Photo Shoot

“No one’s ever had me, not like you.” So High School

“I have a very busy schedule.” Rukaiya frowned at her calendar as her secretary stood in front of her with files. “I have a meeting here. Then I have to go inspect…” Rukaiya shook her head as she leaned back in her chair. “ Can you not postpone the photo shoot?” She narrowed her eyes at the secretary. She was relatively new, unaware of her moods, and aware of her short time at the job. The scared secretary cleared her throat.

“But the note says it cannot be rescheduled. Sir gave us the date after three months.” She shook her head. “The prospectus should have been ready by now.” Rukaiya’s hand stopped at the keyboard while she opened her mail. She had forgotten that this annual photo OP, the company did for its prospectus and meetings, was supposed to be done by Jalal this year. Humayun insisted on it despite Jalal telling him that he did not do corporate photos himself. She was the one who made him understand that it was Humayun’s own little way to involve Jalal in the business, and he should not resist. 

“I will see what I can do.” Rukaiya stared at the secretary. “Tell the others to go on. I will be running a little late.” The secretary left as she joined a meeting online with the branches at Agra and Delhi and sent a quick text to Jalal informing him that she would be late and would prefer it if her pictures were taken at his studio rather than there.

Even after all these years of running the business, whenever it came to bigger decisions, she somehow felt liable to let Humayun know. She dialled his number, to be greeted by his cheerful voice informing her that he was at the golf course with some friends.

“It can wait.” She bit her lip as he disagreed.

“Tell me.” He insisted.

“I was thinking of dissolving the Agra branch.” Rukaiya waited with bated breath as Humayun was quiet. “Baba? Are you there?”

“Is it to curb losses?” Humayun asked worriedly.

“It seems like the Delhi branch can handle the deals in the area adequately if they are merged. If we do expand, I was thinking somewhere down south, maybe Hyderabad?” Rukaiya suggested.

“Have you talked to the team?” Humayun enquired. Rukaiya nodded. “Yes, the factory cost and everything are being considered.”

“ My child, you have expanded Jahan Marbles beyond what I thought of and my father dreamt of.” Humayun made her pause as he cleared his throat. “I think it's time you do what you want to do rather than ask me for approval for everything. I entrusted you with the business in its entirety, and I am glad it's you, not Jalal, doing it. I somehow doubt he would have done this well.” Humayun’s words made Rukaiya smile.

“That’s not… he built whatever he is today alone. The studio, the projects, without any aid…” Rukaiya tried to make Humayun speak proudly of his son once in vain. She knew how much Jalal craved that appreciation. He sometimes lamented how he would have been applauded more as a son and prodigy if he put the same effort into the family business rather than his own ambitions. 

“He wouldn’t have been so visionary with the business. All I’m saying is this is your empire; you rule it. You don’t have to ask me. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Rukaiya nodded.

“I heard about the Sisodiyas. Pratap, being in Udaipur… the community is making all kinds of stories,” he sounded worried.

“What stories?” Rukaiya asked curiously.

“About why he broke the engagement, what’s happening in Udaipur. I am afraid once they know Ajabdeh is there… and about Amar…” Humayun stopped. Rukaiya inhaled.

“How did they come to know about what happened at Sarangpura?” Rukaiya was upset. 

“Probably the Rathore PR is whispering in the ears of people,” Humayun suggested. “I’m not sure of this, as last I heard their business alliance was very much happening, adding fuel to the rumours. Why would Maldeo agree to go ahead with a business deal that was tied to the broken engagement?” Even Humayun sounded doubtful.

“ I have no idea about them, Baba. But I will let Ajabdeh know of this.” She gathered, “In case something comes up in the tabloids.”

“Are you coming to visit, now that… they know?” Humayun asked hopefully. Since their marriage, they had carefully avoided Delhi and home. Rukaiya visited a few times for work, stayed in hotels and came back home, and often Humayun and the mothers visited her in Udaipur instead, especially after Salim was born. But she knew the elders expected Salim to visit their childhood home, the home Jalal grew up in. Jalal avoided Delhi like the plague. It was a sensitive topic to bring up for Rukaiya, but now things were different.

“I will talk to him,” she reassured Humayun.

As she disconnected the call, Rukaiya dialled Ajabdeh immediately. It was two minutes to her next meeting.

“Baba said he is worried about the rumours in the Delhi circle.” 

“What rumours?” Ajabdeh asked, cluelessly. 

“About Pratap moving here. He is sceptical of what will happen if they come to know of Amar.” Rukaiya bit her lip. She was guilty of putting this on Ajabdeh’s overwhelming plate of problems. “I wanted to give you a heads up in case…”

“Yeah, thanks.” The conversation was short and brief.

Jaivanta dialled Ajabdeh immediately as she received the message “I need to talk to you.”

Ajabdeh picked up the phone as Jaivanta asked how she was. She seemed to be in a hurry to avoid small talk.

“I refused his financial help,” Ajabdeh said after repeating the conversation that bothered her. “If this was your idea, I am perfectly fine with my job and…”

“It wasn’t my idea.” Jaivanta interrupted. “Is that why you called?”

“I… no.” Ajabdeh bit her lip. “It’s something I heard.” She was pacing the balcony of her bedroom. The door shut from the outside as she eyed the bedroom door. She could hear Amar play with his cars, making a bhrooming sound in the living room.

“I have a solution to that,” Jaivanta said as soon as she spoke of her fears. “We control the narrative.”

“Pardon?” Ajabdeh looked confused.

“We put out the story before they find out.” Jaivanta cleared her throat. “By a subtle interview with Pratap in one of the leading papers. He could talk about the business expansion in Udaipur. And then speak of Amar in some context without letting them know much about your whereabouts?”

“You want to expose Amar to the tabloids?” Ajabdeh was suddenly alarmed. She knew how the tabloids always treated her since she was a teen prodigy of the company. She was mocked for her lack of style, her repeated dresses at events, her stance on environmental awareness while belonging to an industrial family and later on, about her personal life rather than her successes. All they cared about was what a woman wears and who she dates. Her personal stances were drowned out in the name of the family. No amount of success or intelligence was enough news for them unless they smelled scandals.  She never cared as much as her parents or Heer did about tabloid image. The Paps were forever her foes. When she finally left, she had come across an exposé in the news speaking of a broken engagement and her chosen exile, probably to some country abroad, because she had cold feet. They decoded her disabled social media, claiming she was not sane and was seeking rehab. She was glad that the people around her at Udaipur either did not know her, like the elites of Delhi did, or that the life she chose was a perfect disguise for people to even imagine her to be the same person. The people of the working class, the middle-class households in a city that thrived on the past and heritage, did not care for a privileged elite sob story from the circles of Delhi’s kitty parties, and she was glad. The only time she was asked what she was doing there was when she went for a job interview, but Humayun intervened. Exposing Amar to tabloid stories and scrutiny at this age was scary. He was not born into the culture; he was not used to such attention, and worse, they lived in a place where they had lived a fairly normal life happily. Now every aspect of her life would again be scrutinised. Could Amar cope with the questions they would pose? Ajabdeh could just close her eyes and envision page three and trolls questioning Amar’s legitimacy. She breathed in, unsurely. She could not go down the rabbit hole she chose to leave. Jaivanta could read her silences.

“I know you are worried.” She said, “I will talk to our public relations manager once about this, but in my experience, it's worse if you don’t control the narrative. They will harass you if they get a bite.” Ajabdeh asked for some time to think about it. In between job hunting, protecting Amar, and struggling with allowing people into her son’s life, it never crossed her mind that the Delhi circle was different and they had a public life, no matter how locally famous they were. The first impulse Ajabdeh had was to ask Pratap what he thought of Jaivanta’s idea. But remembering their last disagreement, she shook her head and let it be. Amar calling her from the living room made her drop her phone on the bed and walk back to attend to him.

Rukaiya was satisfied with the two meetings she had to attend about the dissolution of the Agra Branch. Once that was done smoothly, she could pitch the Hyderabad expansion to the board and investors. She eyed the watch, and it was almost eight. She called the secretary asking for the car to be brought.

“Ma’am, should you not… retouch your makeup?” Her odd question made Rukaiya realise she was supposed to go to the photoshoot she had forgotten about.

“Have the other board members and top administration been photographed already?”

She waited for the secretary to brief her on how it went. Jalal’s assistant photographers were working all day on it. Rukaiya smiled faintly at her husband’s stubbornness. He would not do what he did not like doing. So even when Humayun insisted his studio did the shoot, he let his assistants step in. Rukaiya nodded at the secretary, who asked if she was ready to go to the studio.

Jalal’s Studio stood in a large property near the Urban Square Mall, with its neon retro board blinking JM’s over it. Many aspiring photographers were hired there, and developers worked in the office, making sure their elite clientele across the country got the best services. They did fashion shows, portraits, fashion house events, social events for elites and occasional videos for brands and tourism. Corporate events were done on request. Jalal only did the projects he thought were interesting and new or could help him explore his art. When he started off with the vision of his studio, the idea was simple. He wanted to help out photographers who were amateurs and did not have a privileged background to start their careers. Slowly, the vision grew into the studio that was now famous. Although Rukaiya applauded his persistence and hard work and called him self-made, he knew better. He knew he could never have achieved his dreams had it not been for her constant support and belief. This studio would not have been built without her financial aid. Rukaiya called it their money, but he knew better. He was relieved that it worked out after the investment Rukaiya put in, happily making her a dormant partner of his studio. He was happy to have proved his worth to everyone who called his career move dumb.

When Rukaiya’s car entered the premises and Jalal’s assistant came by to take her to the floor, she noticed that the office was relatively empty and felt a little guilty about not keeping her appointment time. 

“I was running late…”

“Yes, Ma’am. Sir informed us. You can go in there.” She pointed at the closed door and left as Rukaiya sighed. It was getting late. Salim would go to bed, and that would mean she would not be able to interact with him that day. The sudden guilt that hit her was greater than the feeling of empowerment she felt as the boss for the entire day. She pushed open the door, and the flood of light blinded her momentarily. She could see the white background and the floor lights in the darkness as she navigated through the wires and cables on the floor to the couch in front of the screens. She expected employees here, but nobody was around. She wondered if it would take long as she dropped the bag and held her shoulder as it hurt.

“There she is.” The studio door opened behind her as she turned, and she was surprised to see Jalal and Salim. Salim took some time to spot his mother over the blinding light and let out a happy shriek.

“Hey, baby.” Rukaiya stretched out her hand as he happily jumped into her arms, holding on to her and babbling, “Maamaa.”

“Yes, I missed you too.” She cuddled him as Jalal walked past her and checked the lights before he picked up the camera to change the lens.

“I thought you did not do corporate shoots.” Rukaiya narrowed her brows slightly as she eyed her husband at work.

“I don’t. I was not here. I had a job at Moti Magri.”

“Then?” She raised her brows. 

“Then I got your message, picked up Salim because I thought Maham could do with a little break, and we planned to surprise you.” he smiled as Rukaiya felt a sudden sense of overwhelm. She never talked about how busy her day was or how guilty she felt about not seeing Salim, but somehow Jalal knew.

She set Salim down on the couch, his attention immediately drawn to her bag as she hugged a surprised Jalal.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” His hands were occupied by the camera as he looked surprised.

“Everything.” Rukaiya’s eyes glistened in the floor light. Their attention was drawn by Salim’s attempt to get down from the couch and stumble to the white floor as Rukaiya tried to stop him, alarmed that he would trip on the cables. Salim wobbled for two steps, then crawled faster than Rukaiya could anticipate towards the floor lights. She was about to pick him up when Jalal stopped her with a hand gesture as he picked up the camera.

“Someone’s a poser.” Rukaiya watched him click candid shots of Salim as she watched them on the monitor.

“He can be a model.” Rukaiya smiled as Jalal looked amused.

“He is not even one.” He reminded her. 

“So? Look at his confidence.” Salim stared back at his parents, confused as he found himself sitting on the white floor, staring at the light from where his mother’s voice came. 

“Here.” Jalal lowered the camera slightly from his face to smile at Salim. “Look here.” Salim’s confusion gave way to a warm smile at his father as Jalal clicked his pictures.

“Don’t use the flash.” Rukaiya reminded him as he nodded. “I know. I have done this before, haven’t I?”

Rukaiya watched Jalal trying to make Salim pose by throwing him his favourite ball, and he responded, nibbling at it, with his two teeth out. Rukaiya smiled as she eyed the watch.

“Are you really going to do my photo shoot, or did you ask someone to stay back?” She reminded Jalal gently. Jalal nodded as he stared at the pictures he had clicked.

“I will, Mohtarma, just like old times.” He looked up at Rukaiya’s tired smile as their eyes met. “I asked Maham Anga to come by and pick him up so that he doesn’t interrupt work. She will be here in five minutes.” He said as she went to pick Salim up in her arms. Jalal stared at the mother and son, Rukaiya stretching her arms to Salim, who looked reluctant at first, then crawled to her. Rukaiya kissed Salim as he hugged his mother. Salim’s sudden attraction to his mother’s pendant. Jalal captured the moments discreetly before Maham arrived.

Waving Salim goodbye, Rukaiya shrugged. “Let’s do whatever I need to do fast. I am tired. I have an early morning tomorrow.” She stared at her husband’s longing gaze and lowered her gaze, blushing slightly as she looked away.

“First.” He walked up behind her and undid her perfectly done hair. “You need to touch up.”

“That’s what my secretary kept saying.” She looked annoyed. Jalal proceeded to open her handbag and take out some touch-up powder and lipstick. “Close your eyes.” He used the liquid lipstick to add some colour to her eyes and cheeks as Rukaiya smiled, amused, her eyes closed.

“Do you do this as part of your client service, Jalal?” Rukaiya chuckled. “Should I be worried?” Jalal stopped rubbing her cheek as she opened her eyes, and before adding some colour to her lips, he kissed her. “Only for this client.” Rukaiya put her arms around Jalal’s neck as she smiled. “At this rate, the shoot will take all night.”

“I don’t mind that, do I?” Jalal raised his brows, making her shake her head and blush. “I have an early morning.” She pushed him back gently. “How do you want me to pose?”

“Stop being rigid.” Jalal shook his head as he lowered the camera. It had been a month since their marriage and move to Udaipur, and Humayun emphasised that Rukaiya needed a professional photoshoot for the prospectus and an interview he had arranged with a leading business paper as the face of the Company. Jalal could not refuse his mother’s request. He knew she had attempted to make sure they spent some time together. Since the wedding and the move, they have been busy. Jalal was trying to understand the clientele in the new demography, exploring studios and work opportunities at fashion houses that paid comfortably. Rukaiya was busy setting up the new office and business expansion. In between their career and taking turns spending time with Ajabdeh, taking her to her doctor’s appointments, they barely found any time to talk to each other. Rukaiya expressed her worry for Ajabdeh’s sudden quietness and change of demeanour as he suggested seeing a therapist, knowing Ajabdeh would resist. To their surprise, Ajabdeh did not resist, making Rukaiya more worried for her. The little time they had to themselves was spent with her despite her resistance. Rukaiya strongly opposed her idea of moving to her rented place so soon. She was staying in their guest room until Rukaiya was sure she could manage alone. Ajabdeh helped set up the place, buying little things that would make the house a home. She cooked most days when they were busy and made sure they returned to a warm meal and a clean home. They spent weekends exploring places nearby, hoping it would make Ajabdeh feel better. In between worrying for her and awkwardly sharing a bedroom, Jalal and Rukaiya were slowly finding their foot in their new relationship. 

Rukaiya looked rather awkward at the camera as she breathed in.

“Why are you conscious?” Jalal almost scolded. “Forget the camera exists.”

Rukaiya frowned. “It’s right there.” She pointed. Jalal looked a little amused as he shook his head. “You know what, look at me.” He lowered the camera, making sure it was not obvious to her that he was still taking pictures. Rukaiya stared beyond the floor lights at him, looking at her, and a smile curved her lips.

“Stop smiling,” he scolded.

“I am not smiling.” She shook her head slightly in denial.

“You are.” He suddenly made her conscious as she lowered her gaze from his. Jalal realised her awkwardness as he cleared his throat.

“Okay, let’s try looking to your left slightly.” He tried to use his professional voice as she nodded.

Rukaiya stared at the screen as he showed her the final pictures.

“They are good.” She gasped. “Give me one for the wall back home.” That made him narrow his brows.

“You want your professional headshot hanging on the wall at home?” He asked, without looking up from the screen.

“The walls don’t have any pictures.” She shrugged.

Two days later, Rukaiya came home to a wall full of framed pictures. Of the family, of her, Shakti and Ajabdeh as teenagers, of Jalal and her at his graduation party and of the engagement and wedding. As she inspected those, a little surprised, Jalal walked out of the bedroom behind her. She glanced over her shoulder with questioning eyes as he shrugged. “You complained, I listened.” She nodded at him with a smile. “This looks beautiful.” He had walked up closer to her, staring at her tired face observantly, making her ears warm as she looked away at the frames again. 

“Are you happy, Rukaiya?” he asked, making her narrow her eyes at him as he looked away. “I know this is not exactly how you planned life.” There was a sudden hint of guilt in his voice as Rukaiya held his hand, making him look up at her.

“Are you okay?” Worry reflected in her voice as he nodded. “I… I don’t often tell you that I… I do think of you… your happiness.” Rukaiya tightened her grip on his hand as she stopped him. “I know that.” She eyed Ajabdeh’s closed door and then back at her husband. “You don’t have to explain this to me. We have both decided that our priority should be to build our careers and her health.” Rukaiya was firm. “Right?”

“Once that is done…” he heaved a sigh, holding both her hands in his, eyeing the ring on her finger.

“We have all our lives to prioritise each other.” Rukaiya’s secure affirmation overwhelmed Jalal. She never doubted him, even for a second, despite the pictures and Pratap’s harsh words. She never asked him even once if the accusations were at all true, even from his side. She had enough reasons to doubt him, knowing his past feelings and actions, but she had this faith. The faith that made him want to give her all the happiness in the world and be a better person. Jalal had not planned it, but that night he gave in to the strong desire to kiss her. Rukaiya was taken aback by the gesture. Was it supposed to be like this? Her first time? He had stopped at her lack of response, worried that she might be upset with his sudden advances. Rukaiya smiled coyly against his lips as she reciprocated, melting away all his doubts.

“You have gotten better.” Rukaiya complimented him as she gasped at the watch. “It’s past midnight. We should go home.” She turned to pick up her bag in a hurry as Jalal stopped her. He took out a small jewellery box, surprising her with a hug. “Happy anniversary.” Rukaiya gasped. She had totally forgotten about it in her workload.

“I’m so sorry I…” She stopped as he smiled. “Did you plan the shoot because you knew I would be late, and we could spend some time?”

“What should I do?” Jalal shrugged. “In between being a boss and a mom, my wife is barely there anywhere.” Rukaiya’s smile faded.

“I’m sorry I…” Rukaiya stopped as he shrugged. “I was joking. I love you, Mohtarma.”

“Happy Anniversary, Jalal.” Rukaiya smiled, hugging him.