Page 228 of Claimed By the Maharaja
“My family is thrilled that my photo is in magazines,” said Meena. “Thank you so much, Maharani!”
“You are welcome.”
Meena held the magazine like a precious thing and walked away happily to show it to the others.
Yamini was glad that the steelworkers featured in the exhibition got the coverage, and some of them were even sought by agencies that wanted more pictures of them.
But the most important thing that had happened was that the protests outside the Jogra steel factories had stopped.
Outside the factory gates, the protest barricades were gone. There was no more shouting, or placards or camera crews chasing outrage.
Yamini knew it wasn’t just because of her PR photographs. It was a combination of several things. But the media reported that the PR photographs dramatically changed the narrative.
Her PR photographs filled the news feeds, showing workers laughing beside roaring machinery, women in safety gear raising thumbs, and Bharat captured from an angle where he didn’t appear distant but was listening and present. All of it was captured by her lens.
There were a few negative articles too.
A couple of environmental groups were furious that the protests stopped so efficiently. They claimed image control and manipulation. And the fact that the PR photographer was the Jogra maharani caused an even bigger uproar.
She had thought about that one. It was a fair point. She was his wife. The photographs were never neutral.
But neither were the protests that had proven international funding.
Yamini’s phone rang, pulling her away from her thoughts.
It was Pooja.
She stepped outside to take Pooja's call, standing near the far end of the facility where the noise faded.
“Your husband is trending,” Pooja said, skipping hello entirely.
Yamini recalled the headlines in the media.
“The Human Face of Jogra Steel.”
“The Steel King’s Vision.”
The headlines were accompanied by the photograph she had taken.
It was of Bharat in profile, the furnace glow catching the edge of his jaw, his expression unreadable and somehow completely present.
She choked back a laugh.
“I am not exaggerating,” Pooja said. “All of my clients and the guests over the past month are fawning over your husband. They wouldn’t stop talking about the Jogra maharaja. The picture you took of him standing near the furnace has gone viral, with 4 lakh likes. You should read some of the shameless comments made by grown women.”
Yamini’s lips curved in amusement.
“His golden-brown eyes,” Pooja added. “Broad shoulders. And even his cheekbone is generating significant public interest.”
Yamini laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Pooja scolded. “Now you’ll have to fight off a gazillion female admirers wherever you go! Good thing he has security.”
Yamini imagined Bharat staring down at eager women admiring his eyes and cheekbones.
It made her smile.
“I’m at the steel plant today,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow at the studio.”
