I am a master in India

Chapter 282 The Humble Rich Man

Chandani is not only the founder of Onida, but also the president of the Consumer Electronics and Television Manufacturers Association (CETMA).

He had worked in this industry for over a decade and believed he understood Indian consumer habits and had a firm grasp of the market.

Under his leadership, Onida has had a smooth journey, progressing step by step from initial agency sales to assembly and OEM, and then to independent production.

Chandani is very proud that ten years ago India was a technological wasteland, and it was he who brought television to this vast subcontinent.

At that time, Videocon was still in its infancy, and Onida truly made it possible for ordinary people to enjoy the right to watch television.

Even the name "Onida" has a story behind it; Chandani was racking his brains to come up with an impressive name for his newly established company.

He wanted to be original, unlike the typical Indian names that all use surnames, or the random inclusion of gods and Buddhas.

His wife pointed to a tableware brand called Oneida in the magazine and said, "This is nice, I like it."

Chandani also liked it, simply because the name sounded very Japanese.

In this era, Japanese and Korean brands represented advanced technology, especially in the television market.

Even European and American families use televisions made by them. Doesn't that prove something?
Chandani knew that Indians who could afford televisions would look down on domestically made products, and that they had a blind worship of foreign brands.

The name "Oneida" is quite good; most people would first think of Japan.

However, to avoid potential legal disputes, he removed the letter "E" from his name, changing it to "Onida".

This tactic worked; for a considerable period of time, people believed that "Onida" was a Japanese brand.

With this clever naming method, Chandani quickly gained a foothold and successfully weathered the fragile early stages of its business.

But it's still just a rebrand, and most of Onida's profits were taken by Japan's JVC.

Their gross profit margin is less than 10%, and after deducting various costs, they are lucky to get 5%.

Chandani was naturally unwilling to give up, and taking advantage of the momentum of India's economic liberalization, he also began negotiations with JVC on localization of production.

Things are going very smoothly. Last year they finalized all the details, and this year the Antares factory is already building a complete production line.

This was largely thanks to the high-profile publicity surrounding the collaboration between Suer Electric and NEC.

Perhaps feeling the pressure from the market, JVC has also opened the door to in-depth cooperation with Onida.

However, what brought him success also brought him failure.

Suer Electric's newly launched 18-inch color TV is priced at an outrageously low price.

Chandani had it calculated that even if Onida achieved complete self-sufficiency in production, it would be impossible to price it at 15,000 rupees.

Their costs are all higher than this; to make a profit, the minimum price is over 18,000 rupees.

How can this be competitive? His Antares factory has already fallen behind before it has even been localized.

If this continues, death will be the only thing waiting for Onida, and Chandani certainly won't sit idly by and wait for his doom.

As the head of an industry association, he used his position to file an antitrust lawsuit with the Competition Commission of India (CCI) on the grounds of "disruptive market practices through predatory pricing."

He accused Suhr Television of unfair competition and demanded the closure of the factory and a hefty fine of one billion rupees.

To make the accusations seem more convincing, he also submitted a so-called cost analysis report.

Given the current market environment in India, 15000 rupees is simply not enough to produce a decent color TV, let alone make a profit.

Especially the black and white television set at 4,000 rupees, which is only about 70% of the manufacturing cost of its competitors.

This predatory pricing undoubtedly violates India's antitrust rules.

Chandani came on strong, uniting a significant portion of his colleagues in the association, preparing to pressure the Maharashtra government to take action against Suer Electric.

At the same time, some public opinion has also begun to exert its influence, questioning whether Suer Electric Appliances is using cruel methods that harm both itself and others to plunder the market at all costs.

This clearly hinders the development of India's domestic industry and is detrimental to the iteration and upgrading of domestic technology.

In short, all sorts of accusations were leveled against Suer Electric.

Chandani wasn't sure if this would work, but there was nothing he could do; there were many unconventional tactics he couldn't use.

Since the Firefly Project failed and Videocon suffered a great loss, no one has dared to use any means against Suer Electric Appliances again.

If they hadn't been forced to a certain point, Chandani wouldn't have wanted to be enemies with Sur.

If it were an ordinary person, he would have already tried to bribe officials to shut down the other party's factory, or used the pretext of colluding with foreign forces to send his competitor to jail.

No matter how outrageous the reason, it will make sense in India, provided you are willing to spend money.

Unfortunately, this tactic is ineffective against the wealthy and powerful, because they also possess the power of proxy.

Take Suer Electric Appliances for example. They have tens of thousands of workers there. Which politician would dare to offend them?

Leaving aside the various bribes, the votes alone were enough to make them bow down and submit to Sur.

Just kidding, that's Mumbai's largest manufacturing plant and its biggest investor.

No official would be so foolish as to want to cause trouble for Suer.

Chandani had been operating here for many years. He had tried to test the waters, but when his old associates heard that the target was Suer Electric Appliances, they all avoided him or made irrelevant remarks.

This opponent has grown too fast, like a rocket, catching everyone off guard. Ordinary methods are ineffective, so he can only try to find a solution through the legal system.

Chandani gazed silently at the summit of Mount Malabar, where his residence was also located in this renowned area of ​​the wealthy.

Outside the window is the Arabian Sea, and above is a vast blue sky. The room is clean and tidy, with elegant solid wood furniture.

In the afternoon, I stood by the window and looked out into the distance; there was no one in sight. This is India, yet even the affluent areas are deserted!
Whenever outsiders "accidentally" stumble upon this place with a sense of awe, they would gaze at the distant view with a luxurious and greedy air, leisurely staring at the palm trees and the lazy seawater at low tide.

People nearby had hung their towels on clotheslines to dry, and the towels stood straight up evenly in the still air.

Ah! This is the kind of life that so many people dream of.

However, Chandani was not entirely satisfied, as the wealthy community in the Malabar Mountains was also divided into different tiers.

His residence appeared luxurious, but the various facilities were frequently broken. The air conditioner often malfunctioned, and water would occasionally drip onto his head while he was working in his study.

The entire street was shut off from 9:30 a.m. until 8:30 p.m. when water supply was restored.

This is true even in summer, including the rainy season; outside the window, the rain pours down, but inside the luxurious bathroom, not a drop of water comes out.

This is still an affluent area; ordinary families can't even imagine it. They would place a row of brightly colored buckets under the tap, waiting to fill them one by one after the water supply was restored at night, so that they would have water to use when they woke up the next morning, and they could also make arrangements for distribution and storage in advance.

Even more tragically, in Mumbai, even if the taps are working, the water coming out is not safe to drink.

The water in Mumbai is in its most primitive form and requires complex processing.

The rich can order their servants to do the work, while ordinary people have to do it themselves.

First, filter the visible sand with a layer of fine gauze, then put the water into a large white container and insert a candle filter for further filtration.

Then people would boil the water, especially during the rainy season. Finally, the water would be poured into empty whiskey bottles and refrigerated.

Or, like the older generation would do, pour water into a ceramic pot to cool it down, and then drink it with a slightly sweet taste.

It takes at least 24 hours from the time the water is released to when it is available to drink; most people in Mumbai grow up drinking water that has been left overnight.

Mumbai relies entirely on inland water supplies. It is the only city in India that has to import water from a lake hundreds of kilometers away.

Previously, Mumbai had access to well water and reservoirs, but after a cholera outbreak, the city government had to stop drawing water from the contaminated wells and reservoirs.

Currently, Mumbai Municipal Corporation processes and supplies 3 billion liters of water per day, but this can only meet 70% of the city's water needs.

Residents of slums with no access to water are forced to steal water from pipes that supply water to legal users that run through their area.

Nearly a third of the water supply from the water company was stolen, ultimately leading to water shortages in the affluent areas of the Malabar Mountains.

In some middle-class areas such as Bayanda and Milara, riots occasionally break out due to severe water shortages.

Of course, what Chandani found most unbearable was the problem of public toilets in Mumbai. Every morning when he looked out of his study window, he would see people relieving themselves on the rocks by the sea.

Twice a day, with the ebb and flow of the tide, a terrible stench rises from the reef and spreads eastward throughout the entire upscale apartment complex.

It is said that half of Mumbai’s population has no public toilets, so they have to relieve themselves in the open.

If there are five million such people, and each of them produces one pound of excrement per day, then five million pounds of excrement would be piled up in the wild.

Where is the most convenient place for people to go most often? The beach, of course.

As soon as the wave came, it cleaned all the tools used in the crime completely.

However, no matter how boundless the ocean is, it cannot withstand the pollution of millions of kilograms of feces every day.

Even in the affluent neighborhood where Chandani lives, this nightmare cannot be escaped.

The World Bank once sent a group of experts to try to solve Mumbai's sanitation problems.

The bank's solution, suggesting building 100,000 more public toilets in Mumbai, is utterly absurd.

Chandani had seen what public toilets in the slums were like: none of them were usable because the latrines were clogged year after year, forcing people to relieve themselves wherever they could.

Building an additional 100,000 public toilets would amplify this problem a hundredfold.

Indians and people from countries like those in Northern Europe have very different understandings of civic consciousness.

Here, the only place you should keep clean is your own little patch of land, nothing more.

Every household in the building has spotless homes because the servants sweep and mop the floors up to twice a day.

However, public spaces such as corridors, staircases, lobbies, and courtyards are covered with betel nut stains, and the ground is stained with wet garbage, plastic bags, and human and animal saliva, urine, and feces.

This is true throughout Mumbai, even in the homes of the wealthy.

However, there is one exception: the summit of Mount Malabar.

Most of the daily necessities there are specially supplied, and the infrastructure is maintained by dedicated personnel.

Ron lived there, and Chandani planned to visit him.

Without the support of politicians, the antitrust case could drag on for several years.

At that time, it was uncertain whether Onida was even there. If negotiations could resolve the issue, that would be the best outcome.

(End of this chapter)