I am a master in India

Chapter 314 The Dark Side of the Slums
Ron is going back to the Northern Command, but he has a lot of things to take care of before he leaves.

First, there's the telecommunications license, which is more complicated than he imagined.

The Indian government is also completely clueless about the business model of mobile communications, and many of its policies seem like child's play.

Firstly, the current pilot program is only being implemented in major cities, and licenses are issued on a city-by-city basis.

Ron called the telecommunications department in New Delhi, and an official told him that only two licenses would be issued per city, and only certain frequency bands would be available.

This is quite different from his imagined model of obtaining a license and being able to build base stations all over the country.

Only two tickets are issued per city? Are they selling snacks?

This petty approach naturally limits the emergence of telecommunications giants.

In addition, communication between operators in different cities is also a problem, and there will likely be a lot of disputes.

The most crucial thing is the telecommunications license, or permit, which the Telecom Department in New Delhi has completely turned into a business.

The price is clearly stated: $600 million per document, payable annually.

The reason for using US dollars is that several international telecommunications companies have shown unusual interest in the Indian market.

After hearing the price, Ron felt it was outrageous; it was blatant robbery.

Does the Telecom Department in New Delhi really have no idea what India's current economic situation is like?
Throughout the entire Indian subcontinent, only tens of thousands of people can afford mobile phones. Their total annual phone bill is estimated to be equivalent to the cost of one or two licenses.

Without a doubt, it's a guaranteed loss. Except for major cities like Mumbai, everyone else will starve.

This business is not profitable for at least the next three to five years, and the adoption of mobile phones in India is not progressing very quickly.

Given New Delhi's track record, they might raise license plate prices again in a couple of years.

Ron studied the Department of Telecommunications' policies thoroughly, but all he came across were the words "pig butchering scam".

Whether we target them or not, it's just a matter of wanting other people's dollars and using foreign capital to build up our own public infrastructure.

Damn, Ron is such a noble businessman, he's not as despicable as the government.

However, he still wanted to obtain the telecommunications license, but was unwilling to pay $600 million.

It seems I'll have to make a side trip to New Delhi on my way back to Uttar Pradesh.

We have to develop a piece of land here in Mumbai, no matter how much it makes money or not, the important thing is to reserve the space first.

Who knows when the Ministry of Telecommunications will completely loosen its policies? Now that we've got the license, future upgrades will be much easier.

After making the call to New Delhi, Ron got busy with the Suer Electric project. The employee dormitories, which had been under construction for nearly two years, were finally beginning to be handed over.

Some employees received family apartments, and the whole family happily began moving in. There were piles of bottles and jars, making it quite a lively scene.

More people are living in single dormitories, but that's still much better than seven or eight people crammed together in the slums.

On the day the dormitories were assigned, Ron also went to the site to participate in the opening ceremony of his new home.

The workers were very enthusiastic, shouting "Long live!" at the top of their lungs.

After the ceremony, he passed by the Kama compound, where Anand was sweating profusely as he maintained order.

“Ron Baba.” He ran over from afar.

Why is it so messy here?

“As people move out, others will move in; there will never be enough houses in Mumbai.” He shook his head.

“Those too?” Ron pointed to the illegal slums surrounding the Karma compound.

Yes, further north of the Kama compound, clusters of shack-like slums have sprung up.

“Sigh,” he sighed, “there are developers planning to build apartments here, and they’ve come all over as soon as they heard about it.”

"It's still early. It might be a year before construction starts." Ron chuckled, of course he knew what was happening around him.

“It’s not just the construction site; the people in these slums serve the residents of the Kama compound. They all know that the workers here are well-paid and can afford servants.”

"Huh?" Ron was stunned.

“You know, Ron Baba, people in Mumbai love to enjoy life. The salary for hiring a laundry worker isn’t even enough to buy a McDonald’s meal. Now that people have money, they’re too lazy to do the old work. Many families in the Kama compound have their clothes and cleaning done by people from the slums outside.”

"So the people in illegal slums are all attracted by the jobs?"

"Right, that is it."

It's not servants hiring servants, it's workers hiring servants; they have already achieved upward social mobility.

The former poor have transformed into masters, and the positions they left vacant will naturally be filled by more people from the lower classes.

India's caste and social hierarchy will likely never disappear.

“People have become bad these days, and the slums aren’t as simple and honest as they used to be,” Anand lamented.

"What's your story?" Ron glanced at him sideways.

“There are so many people who mess around, it’s unbelievable,” Anand said with a mixture of amazement and snickering.

He started telling Ron gossip about the slums, about a guy named Santosh who was a complete slut.

The man claimed to treat his neighbor Raj's wife as a younger sister, and she, in turn, addressed him as an elder brother, obtaining a protective rope from him every year to tie on his wrist. Raj and his wife trusted Santosh and allowed him free access to their home, unaware that they had let a wolf into their house.

One day, Santosh accidentally discovered that Raj's wife was having an affair with a doctor neighbor. He threatened to expose the two in order to force Raj's wife to also have an improper relationship with him.

From then on, Santosh would wander over to Raj's house in the mornings and have sex with the woman he called "Sister".

At 2 PM, I went to the temple with my mother to perform a religious ceremony, where we pretended to chant scriptures for an hour.

Such sexual relations in the slums are anything but gentle; they occur not only in secret but are also utterly bestial.

A woman who suffers humiliation in a slum often has to swallow her pride and endure the pain.

As Anand said, "She always felt that family scandals should not be aired in public."

Therefore, the perpetrators become even more unscrupulous. They specifically target vulnerable groups who will not, cannot, or dare to expose them.

What kind of gossip would others have? How would a man, powerless to protect his wife and daughters, feel, being bullied and ridiculed by others? When they discovered the truth, most of them remained silent.

Ron knew the slums were chaotic, but he didn't expect them to be this chaotic.

"That Santosh has slept with so many women, besides not daring to make a fuss, is he also very handsome?"

“Not at all,” Anand shook his head. “He’s a cripple, didn’t even finish elementary school, and works as a doorman at a shopping mall.”

But he was very good at talking. He would go to a woman's house every day and sit there chatting.

He chatted with the family's husband, his wife, and their daughter.

He would only talk about things they wanted to hear, and gradually became familiar with them, then seized the opportunity to make his move.

“So I was a little nervous when I saw him coming and going from our house,” Anand admitted.

The short, stout man had no idea that he, too, was not good-looking and had also caused trouble for many housewives.

When it comes to womanizing, he's even more outrageous than that Santosh guy.

Sex in the slums is wild, disorderly, and can happen anytime, anywhere.

As Anand was vividly describing the strange and wonderful things happening here, Rajiv ran over and said that a man was beating his wife and he was worried that she would be beaten to death.

"From the Kama compound?" Anand asked.

“No, the ones outside.” Rajiv pointed to the illegal slums.

“Ronbaba, want to go take a look? That area is under our jurisdiction now too.”

“I’ll stay here. You go do your own thing,” Ron waved his hand.

He could already see a group of people gathered not far away; they were close enough to be heard from here.

Anand and Rajiv walked quickly across several ditches and came to a row of small houses. The houses were just a few steps away on the outskirts.

A large crowd gathered outside a small house. As they approached, they heard pitiful screams and sounds of punches and kicks coming from inside.

Anand saw Rajakanu standing by the hut, and without a word, he struggled through the crowd to get to him.

"What happened?" Anand asked in a stern tone.

“Joseph is drunk,” Rajakanu replied angrily, spitting in the direction of the hut. “That bastard beat his wife all morning.”

He despised such people. He had risked injury to move his pregnant wife from the sidewalk into the slums.

It was only after Ron recruited him that his wife was able to have a decent home before giving birth.

"The whole morning? How long has it been?"

"Three hours, maybe longer. I just arrived, and other people told me about it, so I had someone inform you."

Anand's brows furrowed, clearly displeased. He might like housewives, and he might use cable TV for womanizing, but he still considered himself a good man.

He took good care of Freida, the children grew up healthy, and he brought a lot of money home.

He dislikes men who beat their wives; it's a sign of incompetence.

"Joseph has hit his wife more than once or twice, why didn't you stop him?"

Rajakanu was speechless, but felt wronged, and looked down at the stone ground beneath his feet.

He was so angry he was about to cry.

"I'm not afraid of him! I'm not afraid of any of the men here! You know that, but they are... she's his wife."

The shacks in the slums are densely packed and crowded, with residents living side by side. The most private sounds and movements in daily life can be heard by the neighbors at all times.

Like people elsewhere, they are unwilling to get involved in other people's family disputes, even if those disputes escalate into violence.

Women, in particular, should refrain from interjecting, especially if they are not related to the conversation.

Anand didn't care about any of that; he immediately told Rajakanu to open the door.

At this moment, new shouts and sounds of beatings came from inside the house, followed by even more piercing screams.

(End of this chapter)