She is clad in little more than a loosely draped robe. It is a rich brown colour, which sets off the fiery undertones of the youthful skin on her back and arms, the side of one of her breasts and the abdomen softly curving into a deep navel. Hints of embossed gold on her wrist and long spidery fingers, the nape of her neck, and the lobe of her partially exposed ear. The bun of her hair has come undone, her jet black locks cascading helplessly down her cheek and shoulders.
Zoom in on that face, a glowing image of the fullness of youth. Her eyes are shut; yet in her reflection she continues to gaze at herself, steeped profoundly as she is in her own being. Note the sharp dry overgrowths superimposed on the composition, a painful reminder of the bitter aftertase of asmita.