I am a master in India

Chapter 244 Unusual
"You want to learn to drive?" Dorje looked at Muna with amusement.

“I can pay the tuition.”

"Your last name is Harvey, and you make sugar, so how can you learn to drive?"

"There is no law that says someone with the surname Harvey can't drive."

“How can that be?” Dorje spat out the betel nut residue in his mouth. “That’s like making ice with a charcoal stove. Driving is like taming a wild horse; only a brave soul can do it. You need to be even braver. Only Sindhists and Sikhs have the blood of warriors; only they are qualified to be drivers. Do you think a candy maker would dare to drive around in fourth gear?”

Dorjee gestured with his hands as if shifting gears, his expression extremely smug.

He was the second driver for the Sue family, and when Ishan was away, he became the successor.

For example, right now, Ishan is far away in Varanasi, and Ratan needs to go out, so Dogi comes to drive him.

He was incredibly proud when he heard that Muna also wanted to learn to drive.

Weren't you quite the big shot the other day? You were showing off in front of the young masters.

And now? A country rat is still a country rat.

Dorjee was ready to give Muna a good beating, but at six o'clock the next morning, the stove started making ice.

Muna paid double the tuition, six hundred rupees, plus a month of foot-touching rituals.

The amount offered was far too much, and Dorje couldn't refuse.

They practiced using trucks that were readily available at the mine. Whenever Muna shifted into the wrong gear, Dorji would slap him on the head: "Why don't you go home and make sugar?"

Muna would practice driving for an hour, then stop and work for three hours. He was responsible for training the workers, explaining the rules of the place, and also learning car repair on the side.

He works until late every night, and then he crawls out from under the car like a pig in a stinking ditch, his face covered in black grease and his hands covered in shiny engine oil.

In less than a week, he was able to drive the truck quite well and even make two trips to the mine to pick up goods.

“Listen,” Dorji said, walking over after Muna had grasped the basics. “Just knowing how to drive isn’t enough; you have to become a real driver. You need to have the right attitude, understand?”

"what?"

“If someone tries to overtake you on the road, do this,” Dorje said, clenching his fist and shaking it, “and curse them a few times. The law of the jungle applies to the highway too, you know? A competent driver has to keep yelling and cursing all the way.”

No one overtakes in the mine.

"Idiot! I was talking about when I'm on the road, driving for my master."

“I can’t drive my master’s car,” Muna said, looking troubled.

"You really are a sugar maker, completely clueless," Dorje snapped. "Cars are all the same, trucks are just a bit bigger. You make brittle and palm sugar, does that mean they're not sweet just because the names are different?"

"I see."

"Sigh, for the sake of tuition fees, you country bumpkin, I'll give you a little treat today!"

Dorjee pulled him along, heading towards the town.

"Where are we going?"

"Let me broaden your horizons."

"But what about the master?"

"The young masters have already returned to the manor to rest, and now is the perfect time."

Dorje walked ahead, with Muna following behind. By the time they reached town, it was already late, and they walked through the dimly lit streets and the gloomy market.

After walking for about half an hour, the surroundings were pitch black. However, a sudden burst of light appeared in front of them, as if they had entered a place where fireworks were in full bloom.

The doors and windows on both sides of the street were brightly colored, and behind each door and window, a beautiful young woman was smiling and looking at them.

Red paper ribbons and silver foil glittered and danced on the rooftops, while teapots at roadside stalls sang merrily.

At that moment, four people suddenly rushed over and blocked their way. Dorje told them to move aside, because this was Muna's first time.

"Let him broaden his horizons and take a good look at these beauties; that's the most important thing!"

“Of course, of course,” the group said as they walked back, “we just wanted to give him a good look.”

Muna followed Dorji forward, staring at the alluring and beautiful women, his mouth agape, completely forgetting how to close it.

They laughed mockingly at Muna from behind the window, loudly teasing him, each one begging him to patronize their business!

Dorji explained the ins and outs of this line of work to Muna in detail: the woman sitting on the windowsill in that house, whose legs were completely visible to both of them, was called an "American-style lady."

They wore short skirts, platform shoes, carried pink handbags, and had their English names written on name tags on their chests.

These girls are slim and fit, making them suitable for men who prefer Western tastes.

In this corner, with the door wide open, the person sitting inside the threshold is the "traditional type".

They are plump and robust, draped in saris, and are more suitable for men who seek value for money.

There were several male prostitutes sitting in one shop window, while several young girls sat in the shop window next door.

Muna turned her head and saw only a boy's face flash across a woman's waist before disappearing.

A blue door opened, and dazzling light shone from within. Four light-skinned Nepalese girls, dressed in pretty red dresses, looked them over.

Muna suddenly stopped in her tracks, momentarily forgetting to follow Dorji ahead.

“Okay,” Dorji turned his head, “I like these girls too, I just like foreign girls.”

With a mix of reluctance and agreement, Muna was pushed inside. Dorje picked one first, and the other automatically led Muna into the house.

Half an hour later, Dorje and Muna, looking like they were drunk, staggered out of the street, but were also full of enthusiasm.

"How are you feeling now? I've taught you how to be a driver, and I've also taught you how to be a man. Wasn't that tuition fee worthwhile?" Dorje sighed contentedly.

Muna didn't answer; he stared straight at the other end of the street.

"Hey! Did the girl scare you crazy?" Dorje nudged him. "That guy up ahead," Muna pointed into the distance.

"Hmm?" Dorje craned his neck, only to see a single figure. It was too dark to see clearly.

“They seem to be from our mine,” Muna muttered.

"You're not mistaken? What's he doing here so late? Could it be...?" Dorje grinned mischievously.

“He went to the other side.” Muna pointed along the street, then suddenly stopped.

"Never mind, maybe he's out on a date with his sweetheart." Dorje yawned.

Muna hesitated for a moment, but in the blink of an eye, the figure had vanished.

It was late at night, and nothing could be seen clearly. With no other option, he and Dorje began to walk back.

The next day, Muna got up early to study, and after finishing, she immediately climbed onto the truck to make two trips to the mine.

No one told him to do this; Ron's job for him was simply to train workers.

Yes, in short, brainwashing.

But Muna remained diligent every day, never allowing himself a moment's rest.

The Suer cement plant is operating at full capacity, and workers are working hard to prepare goods.

I heard that the owner has secured a large order for the factory, enough to keep everyone busy for a year.

Everyone was highly motivated; as long as there was work to do, there would be wages to be earned.

However, Muna had just returned from a delivery and hadn't even had time to unload the truck when a group of people stormed into the factory gate.

They were in uniform, carrying batons, and ordered everyone to stop working.

The leader, who identified himself as a boiler pressure inspector, said that the factory's equipment did not meet safety regulations and that production should be suspended for rectification.

Muna didn't understand boiler pressure, but he knew who to contact at this point.

After quickly dialing the phone at the manor, he immediately explained the situation.

In less than ten minutes, Ron arrived in his car.

"what happened?"

"You cannot start work before you receive safety permission," the inspector said in a businesslike manner.

"Sir, is there some misunderstanding? Our factory has just been completed, and all the equipment is new."

"We'll have to investigate to find out." The inspector walked straight towards the factory. "Where's the rotary kiln?"

“I think some information may have been overlooked; the minister was here just a few days ago for the groundbreaking ceremony,” Ron hinted.

"If an accident happens, will the minister take responsibility for you?" The inspector remained unmoved.

Ron had no choice but to have someone take him to inspect the factory.

These inspectors are extremely difficult to deal with; they are law enforcement officers from the industrial sector. They may seem to have little power, but in reality, they are a major nuisance to factories.

If they find any non-compliance, even a minor administrative issue, they have the right to shut down the entire factory.

Giant corporations like Tata suffered greatly from them 91 years ago.

After the economic policies were relaxed, most factories abolished the inspector system.

However, in sectors with strong state-owned characteristics, such as energy and infrastructure, these positions have been retained.

They are employed by the government and can disregard the reputation and status of companies, issuing fines at will.

So, just like in most public sectors in India, the abuse of power breeds corruption.

If the necessary favors aren't made, the inspectors will keep delaying their work.

Ron just hinted at it, but it didn't work.

This is unusual; Suer Cement Plant is no nobody.

"Has this guy been here before?" Ron, who was slightly behind, asked Muna.

"No, Master, I've been keeping an eye on this place the whole time."

"Then how could he be so adamant that there are safety issues with our equipment?"

The inspector was meticulously examining the pipes near the rotary kiln.

The person in charge, Gao Er, kept explaining something on the side, and the two sides seemed to have some disagreement.

"Sure enough, judging from the records of the past two days, your pipeline pressure is very unstable."

"Sir, that's because it's trial production, and we're testing the equipment."

"No, we must wait until there is a thorough investigation and it is confirmed that there are no problems before we can start work."

Gore wanted to say something, but Ron walked over.

“Let’s talk in private,” he said, pulling the inspector aside and handing him an envelope. “The Chief Minister just inspected the site. If we stop construction now, what will people think of his judgment?”

The inspector hesitated for a moment, but ultimately accepted the envelope. "You should rectify the situation as soon as possible."

Ron frowned as he watched the other person leave.

Logically speaking, these inspectors should never come to the door.

They couldn't possibly be unaware that the Chief Minister was endorsing the Suer Cement Plant.

Unless Yadav condoned it, but that's not right. They just finalized a deal, there's no reason for them to turn around and cause trouble.

(End of this chapter)