I am a master in India

Chapter 246 Black Soil and White Bones
"Black soil! Black soil!"

"Hey yo! Hey yo!"

With a snap, the pickaxe slammed into the ground, kicking up a large chunk of soil.

"Bones! Bones!"

"Hey yo! Hey yo!"

The workers chanted slogans as they dug the pit deeper and deeper.

"The black earth is heavy, and the white bones are scattered everywhere!"

"Bones crushed, blood and sweat poured out!"

A struggling sack was carried up, and the workers gathered at the foot of the mountain automatically made way.

Ratan waved his hand, and the sack was thrown into the pit.

"Go down the well, don't look back, there's a way out of the pile of rocks!"

"Black soil, red sweat, white bones, the life of a poor man!"

Shovelfuls of soil fell onto the burlap sacks like rain.

The workers around him watched silently, their faces expressionless.

"Black soil! Black soil! White bones! White bones! This heritage will never perish!"

The land was filled in, and it was just as plain and unremarkable as it had been before the excavation.

"Traitors are unforgivable!" Ratan declared loudly before the crowd.

"The Suer Cement Plant treats every worker kindly. You receive your wages without a single penny being withheld. You have clean, fragrant rice to eat and you won't be whipped. Your families are allowed to live in dormitories and won't be left homeless. This is the kindness of the Suer family, but kindness will not care for traitors!"

"Long live Sur!" Muna shouted, raising his arms.

"Long live Sur!" Dark arms were raised, like rusty pickaxes pointing towards the sky.

"This year, the Suer Cement Plant will also build a clinic specifically for you and your families!" Ratan announced another piece of good news.

"Long live Sur!" A wave of enthusiastic cheers surged forth.

In a barren place like Uttar Pradesh, it's truly remarkable to have a clinic.

If rural people in the countryside get sick, they get sick; their lives remain unchanged.

There were no doctors or medicine, but the patients went to work in the fields as usual.

They themselves don't care, their families don't care, and the government certainly doesn't care.

Without the necessary conditions, the average life expectancy in this region is usually no more than forty years.

He was terminally ill and vomited blood at home. After he died, his body was carried to the Ganges River for cremation, where Shar-Pei dogs were allowed to lick the unburned remains.

As the crowd gradually dispersed, the fresh soil remained untouched, and the earth fell silent.

Ron sighed. The air here was no longer fresh; he could smell the stench of decay, staleness, and decay.

Savagery is the dominant theme of this land. There are some scenes that still make him feel uncomfortable, but the order here has its own operating logic.

Ron didn't intervene; he was trying to adapt to it all.

"Master, are you really planning to build a clinic?" Muna couldn't help but ask on the way back.

"Of course, with the number of workers exceeding one thousand, it is necessary to have a clinic."

"Where will the doctor come from?"

“I will hire someone from outside.”

"Has he been at the clinic all this time?"

"Where is the doctor if he's not at the clinic?" Ron asked curiously.

"Most doctors in rural areas don't work in hospitals; they go out on mobile clinics."

"Mobile clinic?"

"Yes, Master, please come with me."

Muna led Ron to a wasteland near the village of Kana and pointed out some stones to him.

"None of the nearby villages have hospitals, only three foundation stones."

"Foundation stone?"

"Yes, the three foundation stones of the hospital. Because there have been three different governments here, and before each election, politicians promised to build a hospital, so there are three more stones."

Muna recalled her father's illness; he was very ill and began vomiting blood.

He and his brother Raja hurriedly rowed him to the hospital, as there was a proper hospital on the other side of the Ganges.

They kept rinsing their father's mouth with river water, but the water was too dirty, and he vomited blood even more violently.

Across the river, a rickshaw driver recognized Muna's father and took all three of them to the public hospital free of charge.

Three black goats lay on the steps of the faded white hospital building, and the stench of goat droppings wafted in through the open doors.

A single intact pane of glass was a rare sight in the window, and a cat stared intently at them from behind the broken pane.

A sign hung on the gate: Rossiya Puji Free Hospital, with the ribbon-cutting ceremony personally officiated by the great socialist, which is enough to prove that this contemporary sage kept his word.

Muna and Raja carried their father into the hospital, where sheep eggs were scattered all over the ground like black stars in the sky.

They made their way into the hospital, stepping through sheep droppings, but there was no doctor in sight. They gave the young man tending the wards ten rupees, who told them the doctor might come that evening.

All the ward doors were wide open, and the metal springs on the hospital beds were exposed.

As soon as they entered, someone shouted.

"Don't lie on the ground. The cat by the door has tasted blood. It's not safe."

Two herders spread a newspaper on the ground and sat down. One of them had a deep, long wound on his leg. He gestured for Muna and Raja to sit on the newspaper beside him. Muna and Raja moved their father onto the newspaper and then waited there.

A little while later, two little girls with yellow eyes came in and sat behind them.

"Jaundice! She gave it to me."

"No, that's not it! You infected me, we're all going to die!"

Another old man with his eyes covered by gauze walked in and sat behind the little girls.

The herdsman spread out several more newspapers on the ground, and their group grew larger: some had poor eyesight, some had bleeding wounds, and some were vomiting blood.

“Uncle, why is there no doctor at this hospital?” Muna asked. “This is the only hospital on both sides of the river.”

“That’s how it is,” the older herdsman said. “There’s a government medical officer who’s in charge of checking whether doctors come to these rural hospitals for rounds.”

Whenever the position of medical officer becomes vacant, that great socialist will inform all the renowned doctors and then put the position up for public auction. The current market price for filling the vacancy is 400,000 rupees!

"So much money!" Muna exclaimed, her mouth agape in surprise.

"What's so special about that? You can make a lot of money in public service! For example, if I were a doctor, I would borrow money from all over the place and send it to the Socialists with utmost respect, even touching their feet in a gesture of respect."

He arranged a job for me. All I had to do was swear an oath according to the Quran and the Constitution, and I could step into the national hospital, sit in my office, and comfortably prop my legs up on my desk.”

As the herdsman spoke, he lifted his foot and placed it on what he imagined to be a desk. “Then, I summoned the junior doctors under my supervision to my office. I pulled out the official roster and shouted, ‘Dr. Vijay Sharma!’”

The herdsman pointed at Muna, and Muna had no choice but to play the doctor.

“Here, sir!” Muna saluted.

The herdsman spread his hands to Muna. "Now, you, Dr. Vijay Sharma, are to hand over one-third of your salary to me. Good boy, in return, here's this for you."

He ticked a box on his imagined roster, "The rest of the salary is yours. In addition, you can work part-time at a private hospital."

Forget about rural hospitals, because this roster will record that you've been there, that you've healed the old man's injured leg, and that you've cured the little girl's jaundice.

"Ah!" the patients sighed.

Even the young men guarding the wards came over, listening and nodding in agreement.

Stories of corruption and bribery are the most marketable, aren't they?

Raja fed his father some food, but he immediately vomited it up along with blood.

His dark, thin body began to convulse, and then he started vomiting large amounts of blood.

The little girl with yellow eyes was so frightened that she burst into tears, and the other patients quickly stepped back from Muna's father.

"He has tuberculosis, doesn't he?" the herdsman said, patting his injured leg and swatting away the flies that were buzzing around it.

“We don’t know, sir. He’s been coughing for a while, but we don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Muna replied.

"Oh, it's tuberculosis. I've seen rickshaw pullers with this disease before. They worked so hard that it ruined their health. Uh, maybe the doctor will come tonight."

The doctor didn't come, nor did he come the next day.

The Munachai government's roster must have recorded it like this: "At six o'clock in the morning, the tuberculosis patient was completely cured."

The young man guarding the ward said that Muna's father's blood was contagious and insisted that they clean the ward before moving his body.

As Muna and Raja were diligently wiping the bloodstains from the floor, the cat came in, sniffed around, and was then chased away.

A few days later, their father was cremated in the same place as their mother, also because he vomited blood.

"If only Father had met Master sooner," Muna sighed.

"What?" Ron didn't hear clearly.

"Master, you are the best doctor in the world."

"I still have a long way to go."

"It is here, and it always will be."

“Muna.” Ron kicked the stones with his foot.

"Owner?"

"There will be a hospital here someday."

Muna remained silent for a long time before slowly nodding.

"We're leaving, we're going back. Things have only just begun."

According to the information provided by Gudu, the recent frequent shutdowns of the Suer cement plant by inspectors were indeed orchestrated by the Tripatty family.

Gu Du studied science and engineering, so Suer Cement Plant naturally adopted the principle of proximity when recruiting.

He was about to graduate when he was spotted by Gao Er and recruited as an intern.

He is responsible for the daily inspection of the entire production line and knows exactly which parts have defects.

That's why the inspectors were able to get straight to the point and catch the cement plant red-handed every time.

As for why the Tripatty family did it, it was either out of revenge or covetousness.

The two families already had conflicts, and the Tripati family was a local power in Mirzabul, so the other side had every reason to do this.

Ron didn't know whether Yadav knew about this or was involved.

That's not the focus right now; revenge is.

The Suer family has been subjected to constant turmoil and even targeted. They can't afford not to reciprocate.

Ron is very fair; he gives back whatever the other party gives him.

The main theme is "an eye for an eye."

(End of this chapter)