Shreya's company

Surya wasn't the only one who was doing like this, Shreya was also the same but her approach was different.

However, She wasn't one to follow the traditional roles prescribed to women in her time. The grief of her father's death, Shreya threw herself into the world of industry—steel and construction—two sectors that she believed were pivotal to India's growth and independence.

Before 1946 rolled around, Shreya had founded two companies: Surya Steel Ltd and Surya Construction Ltd. Both bore the name of the man who had become not just a mentor, but an integral part of her life.

Surya Steel Ltd started modestly, with a single factory in the outskirts of Bombay. Initially, it produced steel mainly for small construction projects and railway lines, but she had bigger ambitions. She wanted her company to be at the heart of India's industrial revolution.

Surya Construction Ltd, on the other hand, was her foray into the world of infrastructure. She had witnessed firsthand how British companies had dominated India's landscape, erecting grand buildings that served only the colonizers' interests. Shreya's company would change that. She sought to create homes, schools, hospitals, and roads that would serve her fellow countrymen. Her construction company aimed to rebuild India, not in the British image, but in a way that served its people.

One day, as she sat in her office in Bombay, pouring over the latest blueprints for a housing project, Surya arrived. He had a habit of doing that—showing up when she least expected it, but when she needed him most.

"You've been busy," Surya said, scanning the room. Blueprints were across the large wooden desk.

Shreya looked up from her work, a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Busy is an understatement. But it's worth it. We're getting there."

Surya picked up one of the blueprints, his brow furrowing in thought. "A hospital?"

"Not just any hospital. It'll be the first in the region to offer free medical services to those who can't afford it. I've been working with a group of doctors who are willing to volunteer their time."

Surya's expression softened, but before the moment could become too sentimental, he shifted the conversation. "I've been working on something myself. It's time we talk about the steel for our military projects."

Shreya leaned back in her chair, her interest piqued. "Go on."

Surya had long been working on various secret projects for India's defense. Light-armored vehicles, new weapon prototypes—things that would give India an edge in the post-colonial world. For these projects, he needed the highest quality steel, and though Shreya's fledgling company was making strides, it wasn't yet equipped to handle the scale or precision required for military-grade materials.

That's when the name Tata had come up in their conversations.

Jamshedji Tata, the pioneer of Indian industry, had laid the foundation for India's steel production years ago. Tata Steel had become a symbol of Indian self-reliance, and its quality was unmatched. If Surya was going to build vehicles and weapons that could stand the test of battle, he needed Tata's steel.

"I've talked with sir Jamshedji," Surya began. "He's agreed to a contract for supplying us with the steel we need for the vehicles and weapons."

Shreya's eyes widened slightly. "Tata Steel? That's… huge. How did you manage that?"

A sly smile spread across his face. "Let's just say, I was persuasive."

Shreya raised an eyebrow. "And how much did that persuasion cost?"

Surya chuckled. "He didn't do it for the money. Jamshedji Tata is a patriot at heart. He knows that not just about business—it's about the future of India."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Still, it's a big commitment. Tata Steel is largest steel producers in the Asia. With that kind of quality backing us, we can really take these projects to the next level.

With the Tata contract in place, the scale of Surya's defense projects began to grow exponentially. The light-armored vehicles, which had once been little more than sketches and prototypes, were now becoming a reality. Shreya's construction company was enlisted to help build the manufacturing facilities needed to produce these vehicles, and before long, Surya Steel Ltd found itself providing materials for both civilian and military projects.

Surya's defense projects were covered in secrecy, known only to a select few. But Shreya knew enough to understand the pressure of what they were working on. The vehicles they were developing weren't just for show—they were meant to protect the nation once the British left and the real work of independence began.

In the early 1946, Shreya started the new company.

In a land as vast and diverse as India, textiles were more than just fabric; they were culture, identity, and livelihood. The British had exploited this sector around 200 years, flooding the market with their machine-made textiles while India's traditional handloom industry languished. She saw an opportunity not just to revive an ancient craft but to turn it into a modern industrial powerhouse that would uplift the people and further the cause of freedom.

And so, Yadav's Industries was born, a parent company that brought together all her—Surya Steel Ltd, Surya Construction Ltd, and Yadav's Textile Industry.

Yadav's Textile Industries was more than just a business move; it was a statement. She had always admired the way Surya operated—his unwavering commitment to India's self-reliance, his vision of a strong, independent nation. While steel and construction were pivotal to that dream, textiles held a special place in her heart.

India's growing demand for both modern and traditional attire, she saw an opportunity to create something truly transformative. The Yadav's Textile Industry became the crown jewel of her conglomerate, a textile mill unlike any other in the country. With her newfound resources and influence, she set up mills across several regions, employing thousands of local men and women. It was a calculated move, aimed at empowering the very people who had been left behind in the race for independence and industrialization.

The mills weren't just about machines and fabric. They were about reclaiming India's cultural heritage. The intricate patterns of silk sarees from Banaras, the fine cottons of Bengal, and the rich, colorful woolens of Kashmir—all found their way into the production lines. But this wasn't just about tradition. She wanted the mills to produce textiles that could compete with the best in the world, ensuring that Indian craftsmanship was recognized on the global stage.

Nearly 60% of her workforce were local women who had been deprived of opportunities under colonial rule. Many of them were the wives and daughters of laborers, people who had never imagined they would be able to contribute economically to their families in such a substantial way. The mills provided them with a stable income, a sense of independence, and a newfound pride.

The training programs she implemented were rigorous but fair. Experienced weavers and craftspeople were brought in to teach the traditional methods, while modern techniques were introduced to ensure the textiles could compete on a global scale. And it wasn't just about production—She herself was insistent that the workers were treated fairly, with proper wages, safe working conditions, and opportunities for growth.

As the textile mills grew, so did their reputation. The quality of Yadav Textile Industry's products was unmatched, and soon. Nearly 30% of the textiles produced in Shreya's mills were being exported to foreign countries, especially to Europe and Southeast Asia.

The traditional Indian designs were a hit abroad. Wealthy Europeans and Asians, intrigued by the rich history and craftsmanship of Indian fabrics, eagerly bought up the handloom saris, shawls, and other garments produced by Yadav's Industries. The export market became a major revenue stream, bringing in much-needed foreign currency.

And this is where Shreya's business acumen truly shone. Rather than keeping the profits for herself or reinvesting them solely in her companies, she had a bigger plan in mind.

From the very beginning, Shreya had been aligned with Surya Yadav's mission of building a strong, independent India—not just politically but economically and militarily. The profits from the textile exports were significant, and Shreya knew exactly where they needed to go.

A portion of the profits—30% to be exact—was funneled directly to Surya's secret defense projects. The development of weapons, vehicles, and military infrastructure required vast sums of money, and while the steel contracts with Tata had provided materials, they still needed funding for production and research.

Shreya saw her role not just as an industrialist, but as a key player in the fight for independence. The money from Yadav's Textile Industry was quietly handed over to Surya, who used it to finance the development of light-armored vehicles, new firearms, and other military equipment.

Late one evening, after the last of the factory workers had gone home, Shreya sat in her office, a cup of tea steaming in front of her. The day had been long, but productive. The latest shipment of textiles had just been sent off to France, and the mill was running at full capacity. There was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called, already knowing who it would be.

Surya stepped into the room, his usual composed demeanor softened slightly by the late hour. "I hear the export numbers are even better than last quarter."

Shreya smiled. "They are. The European market is opening up to us more and more. Our fabrics are becoming quite popular, it seems."

Surya took a seat across from her, his expression thoughtful. "Nice work."

She shrugged, though there was pride in her eyes. "I'm just doing my part. You know that."

He leaned forward slightly. "And the funds?"

"They've been transferred. You'll have what you need for the next phase of production."

Surya nodded. "The weapons and vehicles we're building—when the time comes, they'll be ready. And it's thanks to you."

Shreya shook her head. "It's not just me. We're all playing our parts. The workers in the mills, the men and women in the factories—they're the ones making this possible."

Surya smiled faintly. "True. But none of this would exist without your vision."

The conversation drifted to other topics—politics, the growing tension with the Indian National Congress, the ongoing efforts to build a post-colonial India.

As Yadav's Industries expanded and Surya's defense projects moved forward, the influence of the Bharatiya Swatantra Sangh continued to grow. The Indian National Congress, which had long been the face of the independence movement, was starting to feel the pressure.

While Gandhi and Nehru spoke of political freedom, Surya and Shreya were working on the practicalities—building the infrastructure, the industries, and the military that would support a free India. The Congress leaders had noticed the rise of Yadav's Industries and the Bharatiya Swatantra Sangh's growing influence, and they weren't entirely pleased.

Shreya had heard the whispers, the rumors that Nehru was wary of Surya's ambitions. He saw the Bharatiya Swatantra Sangh as a potential rival for power once independence was achieved. But Shreya and Surya weren't concerned with power—they were concerned with building a nation.

[A/N : Are you fine?]

[Did you enjoyed the chapter?]

[Well, dear reader, please support author. When I saw the statistics graph, it shows that progress not good. Please add it into your library and support with ps.]

(As for the company name, i simply can't think. So I used their name directly.)