I am a master in India

Chapter 294 Children
There are wide sidewalks between the seawall and the main road, quiet and clean.

On the other side of the six-lane coastal boulevard, the road curves inland into a crescent shape, and as far as the eye can see, there is a wealthy and prosperous area: upscale residences overlooking the black sea, expensive apartment buildings, consulates, fine restaurants and hotels.

However, if you go just a little further north, the scene is completely different.

The streets there are lined with restaurants, bars, and shops, and even the sidewalks are filled with vendors selling cigarettes and paisley.

Just a few steps apart, it felt like two different worlds.

This isn't because people consciously avoid wealthy areas; it's because police patrol every night.

They would drive jeeps on the main streets, and after 11 a.m., they would force shops to pull down their iron gates and cover their windows, and the market stalls would be covered with white cloth.

Beggars, drug addicts, and prostitutes who had not yet gone home or were hiding were all driven away from the nearby sidewalks.

Quiet and calm descend. The streets, bustling with people and traffic during the day, become unbelievably quiet at night.

The wealthy neighborhood at night resembles a ghost town, and later on, police even conduct search operations.

Under Mumbai law, people are not allowed to sleep on the streets.

But nearly half the city’s population is homeless, and many of them eat, sleep, and live on the streets.

Everywhere you look, people are sleeping on the ground, lying on the sidewalks, using only a thin blanket and a cotton sheet to keep the night dew away.

People who fled to the city due to drought, floods, or famine, whether alone, with their families, or as a whole village, slept huddled together on the stone-paved sidewalks and in front of their houses to avoid being left out.

The police can't arrest all of these people, so they can only ensure the peace and quiet of the wealthy neighborhoods.

They patrolled the empty streets, searching for criminals, suspects, and homeless, unemployed men.

However, sometimes when the police carry out crackdowns, they are just as "pragmatic" as when they crack down on prostitutes on the red-light district.

They might turn a blind eye to some extent, but don't expect much sympathy from them.

Ascetics and other religious practitioners are exempt, while the elderly, amputees, the sick, or the injured are driven away and moved to other streets.

People with mental illness, people with eccentric behavior, musicians, acrobats, snake charmers, and other itinerant performers are occasionally treated roughly.

When encountering a family, especially one with young children, the police usually only issue a stern warning not to linger on the streets for more than a few nights before letting them go.

Any man who can prove he has a job, such as a business card or a handwritten employer's address, will be allowed to leave, no matter how lowly the job may be.

A clean-cut, presentable man who appears to be educated can usually avoid arrest by simply stating his condition verbally.

Of course, the most important thing is that if you can bribe your way out, then there won't be any problems.

In the end, only very poor, homeless, unemployed, poorly educated, and single young men were left, becoming the group most likely to be caught by the police to fill the quota.

Dozens of these young men are arrested every night throughout the city; they are very useful.

Some people's physical characteristics match those of wanted criminals. Okay, then you are one of them.

The police not only solved the case quickly, but also accomplished a major feat. With tens of millions of cases in Mumbai, this provided a good way to balance the accounts.

Some police officers make innocent people take the blame because they get paid.

The real suspects will pay to bribe the police to get away with it, and the poor and young people who are arrested are the best expendable resources.

While Ron and Anand were eating by the roadside, police officers were seen banging on the street with bamboo sticks.

The Mumbai police department doesn't have the money to purchase thousands of metal handcuffs, and even if they did, the police would probably embezzle them.

They used rough, long ropes made of hemp and coconut fiber to tie the right hand of the arrested person to a piece of cloth.

Although the rope was thin, it was enough to bind these people, because most of those who were homeless were malnourished and emaciated.

Dejected and unable to escape, they could only obediently and quietly submit to capture.

After arresting a dozen or twenty men and tying them up in a line, the search team escorted them back to the police station.

The police in Mumbai are not armed; they only have bamboo sticks, not batons, guns, or walkie-talkies.

If they really run into trouble, they won't be able to ask for help, and they'll just have to rely on luck.

Just as Ron was about to discuss what kind of work to do with Anand, a commotion broke out on the street.

There were sounds of a girl crying and shouting.

“It’s Rajiv!” Anand exclaimed.

"Huh?" Ron was stunned for a moment before he realized what was happening. "What's he doing here?"

Rajiv was the boy who did the drug trade with Anand; Ron had brought him out of the leprosy slums.

He is now surrounded by several police officers, with several ragged children following behind him.

“Ron, I’ll go take a look,” Anand said, getting up as he did so.

“No need, just have Anil deliver a message,” Ron winked.

Anil led his men over, and the noise quickly subsided. The policemen bowed and scraped as they approached.

Ron simply nodded and paid no more attention, while Rajiv and the children arrived safely at the roadside shop.

“Ron Baba.” He bowed and touched the feet in a gesture of respect.

"What just happened?"

“The leprosy slums are gone. I’ll go and bring them out.” Rajiv forced a smile.

That small, flimsy slum made of branches disappeared.

Only a few children remained, and they stayed by their parents' side until the very last moment.

They became orphans, just like Rajiv.

The youngest was a girl, only five or six years old. She stared intently at the cup on the table and licked her lips.

"Good girl," Ron smiled and patted her head, "What's your name?"

“Sunita,” she said timidly. “Are you thirsty?”

She nodded without saying anything.

"Here you go." Ron handed her the sweet tea.

She took a sip, smiled, and her cheeks flushed slightly.

"tasty?"

"Sweet." She was very happy and hugged the cup tightly.

She was wearing a red dress with the words "My mischievous smile" printed on the front.

The dress was torn and too tight on her, and her little feet were bare.

After she finished her tea, she skipped and hopped over to bring the cup over, the metal bells on her ankle ring jingling.

“Baba, you’re a good person,” she said with a smile.

"Sunita is a good girl."

She giggled, snuggled up to Rajiv, and gently swayed his arm.

Ron ordered a few more dishes from the restaurant, one for each of the children.

Anand playfully teased them, patting one's head and pinching another's mouth.

They even made faces at the children while they were drinking their sweet tea, causing the children to cough and their noses to swell up with snot bubbles.

"How many do you have left?" Ron asked.

“Eighteen,” Rajiv replied.

"Including those here, there are twenty-three. Are you taking care of them all by yourself?"

"They take care of themselves, and I buy them food."

Children in the slums have to fend for themselves once they're over five years old. The few in front of us are even more special; they come from a leprosy-stricken slum.

Their parents had deformed hands and feet, unable to even hold onto a tree branch. The children played a crucial role in building the hut there.

They can do everything: cook, feed their parents water, and repair the leaky hut.

"The slums are too small, why not find a bigger house?"

“Ron, no matter how much money we make, we will not leave the Kama compound,” Anand replied.

"Why?" He didn't understand.

“There, my children, these children, can knock on their neighbors’ doors at one in the morning and ask them for food.”

If they don't like the food their mother cooked today, they can eat at the neighbor's house. In our area, children who come to visit are always treated as honored guests; they are welcomed wherever they go.

But the place you live in won't do. If your future child knocks on your neighbor's door at one in the morning, you'll definitely slap their hand.

"No!" You'll scold them because you don't want the neighbors to think your kids aren't getting enough to eat.

“That’s good, very humane.” Ron nodded.

“Yes, the Kama compound has complete facilities,” Anand agreed.

"Fully equipped" is a common phrase in real estate advertisements, referring to houses with modern kitchens, indoor plumbing, and elevators.

But the "well-equipped" slums have a deeper meaning, which, in Anand's words, means:

“When you come home from get off work, you meet your neighbor and you stand in the hallway and exchange pleasantries with him. But where we live, if you have an emergency and need to go to the hospital, just say hello and your neighbor will come and watch your house without hesitation.”

The facilities he refers to are more about harmonious neighborly relations, something lacking in modern apartment buildings.

“Children are protected by the gods. Adults are vengeful and thin-skinned, but when faced with the same thing, children can forget it in an instant.” Anand burped as he looked at the children and laughed.

“No wonder you have seven or eight kids,” Ron laughed.

“Children are the joy and comfort of poor families.” Anand shook his head.

"Okay, you're enjoying yourself."

"Yes, I like it this way. By the way, where were we? You mentioned wanting to install cable TV?"

"I set up a new TV station, the kind with cable TV, which requires connecting the lines to the users' bedrooms. Mumbai has too many people; a worker can only visit a dozen or so households a day at most."

Although there are many people in the Kama compound, not many are literate and quick-witted. Installing cable TV is a technical job, and I don't have time to check everyone's qualifications.

"Where is Amor?" Anand asked curiously.

He's the property manager of Kama Compound; no one knows the residents there better than him.

“I transferred him to Suer Electric Appliances, where he can better utilize his strengths.”

“Okay, Ron Baba, I’ll get the manpower organized as soon as I get back.”

“After the personnel are selected, they will be trained first, and then they will be paid 20 rupees for each household they install.”

"Ron Baba, everyone is willing to work for you for free."

"No, people still need to eat."

One thing at a time, there's no need to be stingy about such a small amount of money.

Some of the people in the Kama compound work at his factory, while others help him install cable TV.

As their interests become more intertwined, they will be more inclined to protect Ron's interests in the future.

The arrangements at the TV station are all in place; now it's time to head to South India.

(End of this chapter)