I am a master in India

Chapter 256 Affordable for Everyone

In September, Mumbai's rainy season had just ended. The whole city seemed to have taken a bath, and the air suddenly became fresh and sweet.

Trees, bushes, and grass release their fragrance, and long earthworms peek their heads out from the soft soil.

People in Mumbai opened their windows to let the rain-washed air rush into their homes, ensuring a good night's sleep.

Housewives and children peering out of windows, or men relaxing by smoking on balconies, suddenly discover that the entire city has been given a new look.

Giant posters are erected on every landmark building and in every commercial plaza.

They are affixed to the glass facade of buildings or the top of shopping mall entrances.

The poster's content is simple: a television set, a beautiful and trendy television set.

There was a huge advertising slogan on the side: Suer, a TV that everyone can afford.

The place where the price should have been stated was replaced by three question marks.

Huh? This kind of unconventional advertisement immediately piqued people's curiosity.

A TV that everyone can afford? That's interesting.

In Mumbai, who wouldn't want to own their own television?

Since 92, after the media industry was liberalized, Mumbai has seen the emergence of more than a dozen private television stations of varying sizes.

It covers everything from news and politics to strange and unusual events.

As a private television station, their content is more sensational and daring than that of official stations like All India.

Some really exciting shows are broadcast late at night, and no man can resist that kind of content.

Housewives also enjoy watching television; most of them don't work and can only stay at home.

Cleaning, cooking, and taking care of the children only take up a small portion of the day; for the rest of the time, they have nothing to do.

The only entertainment suitable for home is television.

Unfortunately, televisions are too expensive, often costing tens of thousands of rupees, which is unaffordable for ordinary middle-class families.

Sometimes you can't even buy them if you want to; the fluctuating production of local brands is unpredictable.

Now, Suer Electric's advertisement has arrived, and it has immediately captured people's attention.

If everyone can afford it, how cheap would that be?

It should be at least a little lower than the market price, seven thousand rupees?
It's still a bit expensive; Onida and Videocon are priced around 8,000.

Since Suer Electric dares to say that, its prices must be astonishing.

Six thousand? That price is indeed quite exciting.

The men smoking on their balconies began discussing with their neighbors the possibility of selling the Suhr television for six thousand rupees.

Some people think it's difficult because India's high tariffs are a major obstacle; otherwise, the other two companies wouldn't have refused to lower their prices for several years.

Some people think 6,000 rupees is very possible; if Suer's electric fans are cheaper than other brands, why can't televisions be cheaper?

However, as they talked, they became less confident, especially after seeing the posters outside the window.

Look at that TV, isn't it beautiful?

The black design is deep and captivating, while the silver frame extends to both sides with smooth curves, exuding elegance and luxury.

This looks like a high-end product; how could it possibly sell for six thousand rupees?

It's no wonder people think that way, because the local television sets are terrible.

Can you imagine? A television set bought for 8,000 rupees has a wooden casing!
Yes, that's right, it's all handmade.

To save costs, the two local manufacturers came up with the ingenious idea of ​​using a wooden shell.

The Indian subcontinent has a hot climate, with particularly lush vegetation, so it has no shortage of resources like timber.

They also have no shortage of extremely cheap labor; the wooden casings of the televisions are all handmade by them.

The design doesn't need to be too elaborate, just decent enough. Cut the wood, sand the edges, and paint it, and you're done.

Plastic is several times more expensive than wood. Injection molding machines for processing plastic are even more expensive, starting at two million rupees.

Local manufacturers already spend a lot of money to import parts, so of course they want to save money wherever possible.

This kind of cheap, rough-looking wooden TV can sell for eight thousand rupees.

How much does that black crystal-like TV from Nasu Electric cost?
Six thousand is a bit too aggressive, but the phrase "affordable for everyone" keeps flashing before everyone's eyes.

The price, marked with a question mark, is even more puzzling.

People are so curious that they talk about it even when they're commuting to work on the city train.

As a result, on the train and in the office, the newspapers they received featured advertisements for Suer television sets.

The front-page headline content is similar to the posters outside, but it provides more information.

"The price of a television set that everyone can afford will be revealed in a week."

Almost all of India's major newspapers, including local newspapers in several major cities, carried this advertisement for Suer Electric.

The saturation bombardment immediately made Suer television sets a hot topic of discussion.

No one had ever seen such novel advertising and marketing. Whether it was the promise of "affordable for everyone" or the suspenseful price, it all captivated the public's attention. Traditional Indian advertisements practically plastered the price on the viewer's face, but Suer Electric took the opposite approach.

People's thoughts are always strange; the less you tell them, the more curious they become.

This topic has become a popular subject of conversation, and has unknowingly transformed into a social hotspot.

Ashish admired his boss's shrewdness. As soon as he stepped out in the morning, people surrounded him and asked how much the televisions in the factory cost.

Despite being designated as a slum, the Kama compound is mostly inhabited by workers from Suer Electric Appliances.

Their combined two months' salary is more than enough to afford a high-end product like a television.

The building has water and electricity, and the family has beds to sleep in, so there's no need to sleep on the floor anymore. This kind of life is very close to the legendary middle class.

All you need now is a television set; it's proof that you've joined the middle class.

The Taj Mahal is a stepping stone for the self-reliant, and the Suhr television is a symbol of the middle-class family.

Everyone was eager to participate, but Ashish kept quiet.

This is a trade secret of Suer Electric Appliances; how could it be easily leaked?

According to Ron's strategy, the news should not be released until the last day of the week, by which time word of mouth will have been fully formed.

Ashish gave a few vague words and then hurriedly left the Kama compound.

He's off work today. He's going out to Mila Road, where the houses have been renovated.

The apartment was a bit of a distance from the Kama compound, and he had to take a city train. The station advertisements were aimed at migrant workers desperate to escape Mumbai: "Looking for work overseas? Check out ×× newspaper."

Station advertisements are also for urbanites who yearn for a rural life. They are mostly framed in glass and hung on the wall, next to stray dogs dozing in niches.

"Anko Farmhouse in Tukash Village (farmhouse for sale) has 20 mango trees, 10 cashew trees, and 10 other fruit trees (40 trees in total), and is selling for only 20 rupees per square meter."

People rush in at dawn and rush out at night. They glance at the advertisements in the station, harboring fantasies while silently enduring their bosses' imperious orders, and gritting their teeth to bear the crowded train carriages on their return journey.

They kept telling themselves: there would be a small village, and in that village there would be a small house surrounded by fruit trees, the branches heavy with fruit, waiting to be picked. The orchard would be peaceful and serene, just like the childhood they spent on their grandmother's farm.

Ashish used to have such fantasies, but not anymore, because he has reached a higher level.

Whether you live comfortably or not in this city depends entirely on whether you have money.

If you have money, you don't need to work overseas or enjoy rural life; Mumbai has everything you could want.

Of course, most city residents are ordinary people who want to buy the most cost-effective goods with the least amount of money.

For example, there's that huge poster in the station square, a poster for Suer television.

"Affordable for everyone"—what an endearing phrase.

Three white-collar women were pointing at the poster in English, seemingly commenting on the television's stylish design.

A middle-aged man with thinning hair also tilted his head back, his eyes unblinking.

The child clung to his mother's hand, refusing to leave the area under the poster, crying and insisting on taking the big toy home.

The young man with the earring also looked on with longing. He really liked a program on a certain private channel, but could only squeeze into a roadside shop to watch it.

Ashish smiled; he heard the call of longing, and the whole city was whispering among themselves.

The train carriages were also filled with advertisements for Suer TVs. Passengers, squeezed and unable to move, could only stare at the ads to pass the time.

You might not take it seriously at first, but if it stays in front of you long enough, you'll eventually start to take it seriously.

Ashish let out a satisfied sigh; his emotional value for the day had been maximized.

The new home on Mira Road, like the apartment where Laju lived, is very Western in style.

The nearby developers may have wanted to create a European atmosphere, hence the European-style name, even if it was misspelled.

For example, Tanwo High Pool should actually be called "Tanwo Highlands", and Chandreshmeygan should probably be called "Chandresh Coast".

But they were eventually built, with hundreds of buildings scattered around, while others were left unfinished, waiting for housing prices to soar one day before construction could resume.

The seemingly opulent appearance of the buildings in the residential complex gives residents the illusion of luxury and being abroad; their imagined exoticism must be "luxurious".

Ordinary people in Mumbai may not need continuous electricity, 24-hour running water, or wide, smooth roads. But they cannot lack grandeur or lose face.

Ashish took a good look at the uniquely European-style neighborhood before preparing to enter the gate.

But someone stopped him—a neighbor in the same building who ran a distributor business.

"Dude, everyone's talking about your TVs right now. So what's the price? I'm thinking of getting a batch."

"Aren't you a perfume seller?" Ashish asked curiously.

"What to sell isn't up to me; it depends on market demand. Just tell me if this has potential, and I'm ready to go big."

"I can only say that it is unique and will trigger a major earthquake."

"Really?" The man's eyes lit up.

"Orders will be accepted starting tomorrow, don't say I didn't warn you."

Ashish was full of confidence; the Suhr television was about to go on sale.

They have stocked up for a month, with two production lines running day and night.

(End of this chapter)