I am a master in India

Chapter 437 Thugs
Middlemen play a very important role in the Indian working class, especially for people in rural areas of underdeveloped regions.

Whether going to the Persian Gulf, working as a temporary laborer, or buying seeds, you can't do without a middleman.

They are illiterate and don't know the procedures, so they can only rely on middlemen for help.

Most of the thousands of workers at the Suer Steel Plant were migrant workers from other places who were introduced by intermediaries.

When it comes to understanding workers, no one knows them better than the middleman.

Saka was the middleman in the collaboration with the Suer Steel Plant; he was responsible for finding labor for the factory.

Dwaram arranged to meet Saka at a teahouse in the market, and Saka arrived quickly on a motorcycle.

After parking his motorcycle, he walked into the teahouse. He walked with a somewhat swagger, making him seem different from the other workers in the teahouse.

He seemed very intelligent and alert. Dwaram still remembered how the other man had sized him up when they were in the workers' dormitory.

Saka came to where they were sitting and listened carefully as Dwaram introduced himself.

“Yes, I didn’t know who you were before, and I was suspicious when I saw you often at the workers’ quarters,” he said. “But now I know.”

Saka is a Bengalite from a village in the North Bangalore mountains. He is older than Mohan, but shorter and stockier than the latter.

Coupled with his gray beard and humorous personality, he gives off a mature, middle-aged vibe.

Of course, his cold demeanor and cautious attitude toward Dvalam's presence in the factory made Dvalam slightly awkward.

The experienced Dwaram quickly drew parallels to those cold-blooded factory owners, whose condescending gazes towards ordinary workers were strikingly similar.

However, upon learning that Mr. Sue was behind Dwaram, his attitude underwent a complete 180-degree turn.

"Just tell me what you need. I know all the workers in the factory."

“Mohan said you are a big shot among the workers.”

“No, you are,” Saka laughed. “Mohan, would you like to invite us for a cup of tea?”

“Of course.” Mohan stood up and asked the shopkeeper to bring him a few cups of tea.

The tea here is very cheap, only two rupees. Dwaram had originally thought the labor contractor would pay him to show how generous he was to the workers.

But the other party's attitude was exactly the opposite, which suggests that either he is a very stingy person, or he just wants to show off that he is managing Mohan.

Mohan wasn't a permanent employee; he worked for a security company and was introduced to the company through an intermediary.

After taking a few sips of tea, Saka started talking non-stop.

According to Saka himself, he is also a worker, just at a different level than other workers.

He was a middleman, a contractor, responsible for hiring workers for the factory and dealing with the workers.

He himself has worked in steel mills in India, for example in Odisha, Kerala, Maharashtra and Telangana.

“I switched careers to become a middleman in Hyderabad, and I realized I had to make a change.” Then he became a little strange, suddenly staring into Dwaram’s eyes and speaking in Bengali, perhaps so that Mohan wouldn’t understand him.

“I’ve done many bad things in my life, and I won’t tell you, even though I know you’d love to know. What I want to say is that I’ve gone astray over the years, but my life hasn’t improved as a result, and I’m not richer than before, so I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.”

His sudden candor surprised Dwaram, but he refused to explain in detail.

Alright, this is a private matter, and Dwaram doesn't intend to delve into it.

"Who among the workers is the most capable?" he asked.

"sharp?"

"He's a tough guy in the usual sense, or someone with prestige, and everyone's afraid of him."

“Oh, that’s obviously the tinker Pradeep,” Saka replied without hesitation.

"Fire tongs operator?"

"Hey, that's a skilled job, and you can make a lot of money. If you work overtime, you can earn about 10,000 rupees a month."

"So many?" Dvalam was somewhat surprised.

He wasn't unfamiliar with factories; on the contrary, he had talked to many workers. Most of them earned around four thousand rupees a month, even considering the unique nature of working in a steel mill.

Some men doing odd jobs only earn 1200 rupees a month; in the past, factory owners even paid them with food of equal value.

It seems quite extraordinary that a tinker could earn so much.

“These workers are different; they’re treasures, they can work for a lifetime. Mohan, how old is the oldest tongs operator in the factory? Seventy?”

“I don’t know,” Mohan said with a smile.

Dwaram thought Saka was talking nonsense; he hadn't seen any workers over forty years old in the factory.

The jobs in the steel mill are only suitable for young people, so when they get old, they will inevitably be replaced by India's ever-growing workforce.

“Enough of that, I’m going to see that tinker now,” Devalam said.

“No problem, let’s go right now.” Saka eagerly led the way.

Mohan glanced at him, probably inwardly mocking him. Normally, middlemen like Saka wouldn't even give them a second glance.

Now, its tail-wagging, begging manner is exactly like that of the village's lapdogs.

They sped down the highway toward the industrial area of ​​Kussel, and along the way, Dwaram was surprised to find that the social class of the people there was closely related to the means of transportation they used.

The factory owners and managers drove air-conditioned SUVs or Maruti Suzukis. He had seen such vehicles when a group of buyers visited the steel mill. Inside were businessmen wearing sunglasses, leaning back on the white leather seats, reminding Dwaram of the wealthy farmers in Uttar Pradesh.

Middlemen or labor contractors like Saka use motorcycles for transportation. But for tinkers or other workers, they have to walk or ride bicycles.

Mohan and his friends found a dilapidated bicycle in the corner of the garage, which they often rode to the market.

After exiting the highway, the group headed straight for the factory's dormitory area.

The workers' lives were very monotonous; all they did every day, besides going to work and sleeping, was cook and eat.

Life only changes its rhythm slightly when someone returns to their hometown or new workers join.

Most of the time, if workers aren't in the workshop, they're definitely in the dormitory.

Saka stopped his motorcycle and waddled his fat body straight to a house.

He stood at the door and quickly said a few words. The figure on the bed mumbled something and slowly got up to get dressed.

This is Pradeep, from Bihar. He is taciturn, strong, and doesn't look very friendly, unlike the other workers.

He seemed more confident, perhaps because he was in good health.

Pradeep got up from the dark bed and went outside.

Dwaram scrutinized him closely. His well-proportioned figure, strong arms, and tall stature easily reminded one of the warrior class of ancient India.

“Yes, this is exactly the person I’m looking for.”

“Sir, Pradeep is a big shot among the workers, his words carry weight,” Saka winked at him from the side.

“Hello, sir.” Pradeep clasped his hands together in a gesture of greeting.

"What do fire tongs workers do?" Dvalam asked curiously.

“Uh, it’s about pushing steel ingots into the furnace of the rolling mill,” Pradeep said cautiously.

He was puzzled as to why this man would be interested in "fire tongs," but he patiently explained.

That was the final step in the production process, and it was also very dangerous.

Because of the high ambient temperature, the high speed of the production line, the great force required to push the iron ingots, and the dangers posed by heavy machinery and molten steel, etc.

Therefore, managers tend to hire workers who are already accustomed to hard working conditions.

Pradeep says he is 25 years old, but like other workers in the factory, he looks about 10 years older than his actual age.

He came from a farming family in Bihar who made a living by growing sugarcane. Because he had too little land to support his family, he left the land to his older brother and went out to work odd jobs.

He spent most of his working life in western India, initially working as a welder on boats in Surat, a town in Gujarat.

However, he quit the job after six months because spending too much time in the cabin had caused him back pain.

He then worked in steel mills in Mumbai, Hyderabad, and Bangalore for a total of five years.

It was only after meeting Saka that I came to Goa.

After a brief chat, the atmosphere relaxed slightly.

“Do you know the Lambada people in the factory?” Dwaram asked.

“I don’t deal with them often. I’ve only heard that they are very xenophobic and that other people rarely get involved.”

“I need you to deal with them,” Dvalam said bluntly.

"Why?" Pradeep asked, puzzled.

Dwaram told them about their planned strike, and the group cursed and immediately said they would teach them a lesson.

The middleman, Saka, was particularly proactive.

By driving away these locals, he can get more intermediary slots to recruit workers from outside.

Those are all commissions, all money.

"Since the name was changed to Suer Steel Plant, our treatment has improved a lot. Not only are there protective measures at our workstations, but the factory has also opened a new medical clinic where minor ailments can be treated free of charge."

"The security room also has two electric fans." Mohan nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Suer is also planning to build new dormitory buildings, two people a room, with water, electricity and fans. In addition, if you plan to buy some appliances, such as televisions, radios or the like, as long as they are Suer brand, they will all be half price."

Pradeep and Mohan exchanged bewildered glances, while even Saka's eyes lit up.

"Whose shit is that?" Pradeep clenched his fist so tightly it cracked.

Dwaram described the rough-looking workers he had met at the restaurant.

Saka immediately gave their names, and Pradeep and the others nodded in agreement.

"Leave it to me, I know where to find them, and a strike will never happen."

"Mohan, go and tell Kasik to bring a few more security guards tomorrow."

"Yes."

Just as Devalam and his team were discussing how to deal with the Lambadas at the factory, the other side was also preparing to cause trouble.

(End of this chapter)