I am a master in India

Chapter 357 Everyone has their own thoughts

When the doorbell rings for the master's room, the servant must respond immediately.

The ideal time to get upstairs is three minutes; after that, the owner's patience will run out.

Soon after arriving in New Delhi, Barum's first skill was to always be on the lookout for the buzzer.

When he came out of the elevator, Satya was still packing his things.

"Barum, drive to the exit of Building B of the Green Apartments right away." He handed over a black suitcase.

"Yes, Master."

The travel bag was heavy, just like the black bags that sit on the back seats of countless cars in New Delhi.

Those cars had only one destination: either the minister's mansion or that official's residence.

What's inside? Barum lowered his head, trying not to let his mind wander.

He took his things downstairs, followed the instructions to get into the Honda, then drove up a slope and saw the first rays of sunlight of the day.

Satya, impeccably dressed, was already standing at the door, chatting away with a neighbor.

Upon seeing Barum approach, he waved goodbye to his neighbor and got into his car.

“Go to the BJP headquarters, Balram. We just went there a few days ago. I hope you don’t get lost this time.”

"I won't let you down this time, Master."

It was rush hour in Delhi, and the roads were packed with cars, bicycles, motorcycles, tuk-tuks, and black taxis, all vying for lanes.

A hazy blue smoke rose, and people pulled the towels from their chins up to cover their mouths and noses.

The air pollution in New Delhi is alarming; newspapers report that many people have developed asthma and bronchitis as a result.

Of course, people sitting in the car don't need to breathe outside air; the air inside the car is fresh and clean, filtered by the air conditioning.

The rich roll up their tinted windows, and their cars roll around on the streets of Delhi like black eggs.

Every now and then, one or two eggs would crack open, and a woman's arm would emerge from it, wearing a dazzling bracelet on her wrist, and throw a mineral water bottle onto the road.

Then the car window rolled up, and the egg was sealed up again.

The road was full of these round black eggs, blocking the way all the way to Mount Renagara, where the Capitol Building is located.

"Barum, are you lost again?"

"I'm sorry, Master."

Barum was ashamed; he was often mesmerized by the endless roundabouts of New Delhi.

He betrayed his master's trust; just moments ago he had made a solemn promise.

"Turn left ahead, remember that, don't get lost again."

"Yes, Master."

Barum glanced in the rearview mirror as his owner took out that black, mysterious thing.

What was it called again? Oh right, a cell phone!

He didn't know why it had such a strange name; in short, a cell phone was a magical thing.

With it, you can make phone calls anytime, anywhere, even when you need to pee.

No wires are needed; just a few light touches of your finger and the call goes through.

Barum was very curious and couldn't figure out how the call had been made.

Satya sat in the back row making a phone call, and Barum could only hear snippets of what he was saying.

"She's gone mad, trying to meddle in every business. I'm telling you, this is a political issue. We don't need to pay them any attention; we need to deliberately keep our distance. Don't complain about dealing with that scoundrel; in Uttar Pradesh, you have no choice. But don't be afraid, she's going to mess everything up; I have a feeling she will. We don't need to be the first to act; someone else will give in first. Those guys are all veterans in this business. The guy you hired is unreliable; he's a smooth-talking idiot."

Suddenly, someone patted Barum on the shoulder.

"Lost your way again? Do you think you'll get to the BJP headquarters without getting lost seventeen or eighteen times today?"

Satya sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"I shouldn't have brought you here. You're hopeless. You can't read road signs, and you can't even tell left from right."

"I'm sorry, Master, I know how to go now."

Barum quickly adjusted his course, while the phone call in the back seat continued.

He knew his master was on the phone with his subordinates in Uttar Pradesh, a habit he maintained daily.

The current discussion revolves around using a sum of money to buy an apartment in Gurgaon, which will serve as the Socialist Party's office there.

It's a foreign area with embassies from various countries, very international.

It is said that ten years ago, Gurgaon was a barren land with only water buffalo and plump Punjabi farmers.

Today, this area has become Delhi's most modern satellite city, with major companies such as American Express and Microsoft having offices here.

The main road here is lined with large shopping malls, and each mall even has a movie theater!

Placing the Socialist Party office here not only makes it easier to reach foreign journalists, but also benefits its own propaganda efforts.

"Idiot!" Satya slapped Barum from behind, finally losing his temper. "You've gone the wrong way again!"

"Sorry, Master."

“If you go down the wrong path again, you’ll only be able to return to the filthy lands, Balum.”

This time he didn't go the wrong way, and soon the car stopped outside the BJP's lotus-shaped building.

Barum intended to open the door for his master, but this time Satya got out of the car first. He was as quick as a servant rushing to the elevator at the sound of the doorbell, faster than a dog.

“Mr. Sur! Why didn’t you tell me you were back in New Delhi? I could have come over anytime with just one phone call.”

Ah, it's Mr. Sue.

Barum saw his master Satya through the car window and ran to Mr. Sue with great enthusiasm.

He clasped his hands together, his face full of fawning smiles.

Barum was familiar with this smile; the servants in the servant quarters wore the same expression when they saw their masters.

“Mr. Sue, I brought you a few bottles of whiskey, all original imports.”

Satya winked in their direction, and Barum was startled – it was wine!
For some reason, Bloom suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

He felt a sense of relief, but also a lingering fear.
Barum picked up his black travel bag from the back seat and strode forward, his chest pounding.

This time, he wasn't afraid, but excited.

Mr. Sue, the sun of this filthy land!
There are so many legends about him, but they all boil down to one thing: he was a great and good man!

But what excited Barum wasn’t this; he felt that Mr. Sue’s most dazzling aura was that he was a great master!

What master in the world can not only give his servant freedom, but also make him a minister admired by countless people?
No! At least I've never heard of Barum, and there might not even be such a master in Indian history.

If only my master were Mr. Sue.

Barum handed over the travel bag, bent down to touch Mr. Sue's feet, and then slowly backed away.

His body trembled uncontrollably, and he almost cried.

He was certain that Barum would not refuse if Mr. Sue ordered him to do anything now.

“Satya, I didn’t expect you to be in New Delhi.” Ron stretched his neck lazily, while his servants took his travel bag and other belongings.

“Mr. Sur, there are people in Uttar Pradesh who don’t like me.”

"We are all working to make Uttar Pradesh a better place, so we should unite and communicate more."

"Yes, you're right, long live India!"

Satya shouted a slogan in a seemingly professional manner, which is the most common salute used by Indian officials, police officers, and soldiers.

It's roughly similar to raising your arm at a 45-degree angle and shouting "Long live Hydra!"

The two men did not come to the BJP headquarters today to catch up; they had important business to attend to.

Ron is eyeing Bihar and needs to leverage Satya's connections.

To be precise, it is related to the Socialist Party. The Yadav not only have a large population in Uttar Pradesh, but they are also the largest caste group in Bihar.

So naturally, there are also Socialist parties there. However, the Socialist parties in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh are not affiliated.

Bihar completely adopted the model of Uttar Pradesh and established its own Socialist Party.

Their ideologies, party rules, and governing methods are very similar; they could easily be mistaken for twins.

However, the Socialist Party members in Bihar follow an independent and autonomous path, and they have no subordinate relationship with Uttar Pradesh.

To put it bluntly, it's a knock-off.

Since they're all Yadav anyway, I can just copy their homework.

The Uttar Pradesh Socialist Party wasn't angry either, since they were all from the Yadav caste and had no vested interests.

On the contrary, the two parties can usually help and support each other, and they support each other in the upper house of New Delhi.

Far from being anything unpleasant, they are actually good allies.

If Ron wants to expand his business to Bihar, the Socialist Party is the best bridge, which highlights Satya's value.

Given the current political climate in Uttar Pradesh, he would certainly be willing to help.

Not only could he establish a connection with Sur, but he could also greatly solidify his position within the party.

As the saying goes, "the younger brother succeeds the elder brother," and Satya was only temporarily assuming the position of party leader, as his power base was still weak.

By cultivating a good relationship with the Sur family, he could gain more leeway for the Socialist Party's situation, which would significantly increase his influence and voice within the party.

Of course, these alone are not enough to motivate Satya to wholeheartedly cultivate relationships with the Socialist Party members in Bihar.

He also made a small request: that Ron introduce him to key members of the BJP.

It's not Singh from Uttar Pradesh; his influence isn't strong enough. It has to be someone connected to the BJP headquarters.

The rise of the BJP across the country is something that anyone with a keen political sense can see.

The Socialist Party and the BJP had a very unpleasant relationship in Uttar Pradesh in the past, and Satya Nadella is now trying to ease tensions between them.

The female Dalit minister heard that the BJP leadership was very unhappy, and this was his chance.

If the Socialist Party befriends the Indian Party, the popular Socialist Party will naturally be excluded.

Satya was adept at poaching people from his brother's side. His methods were gentler, yet more deadly, than his brother's.

The fortress of the alliance has always crumbled from within.

Satya will surely make that female Dalit desert everyone.

Ron could probably guess something, but he didn't care.

The BJP also holds a strong position in Bihar, and contacting them through the shaman serves as a double insurance.

(End of this chapter)