I am a master in India

Chapter 451 Faith
Hearing the cheers, the oxcart rounded the last sharp bend, entered the wide street, and headed into Sande village.

That was the only decent street in the village, paved and compacted with golden river sand and swept clean.

The houses line both sides of the street and are staggered so that no household faces the other side of the street.

The round house is built of light brown mud and has round windows, curved doors, and a small dome-shaped thatched roof.

News of the city dwellers' impending arrival had spread long ago. In addition to two hundred villagers from Sande Village who came to welcome them, there were also hundreds of residents from neighboring villages.

Kishan drove Ron and the others into the crowd and stopped in front of his house. He grinned broadly, and the people watching him laughed along.

Ron and his men climbed down from the oxcart, placing their luggage at their feet. Six hundred men surrounded them, staring at them and whispering among themselves.

They were so close that Ron could feel their breath.

Six hundred pairs of eyes stared at them with intense curiosity, but no one uttered a word.

Anand stood beside Ron, smiling and pleased with the grand welcome, but he was also too intimidated by the surprised and expectant stares and the wall of people to utter a sound.

Ron, on the other hand, was quite relaxed; he had seen similar scenes up north.

Rather than saying the villagers were curious, it would be more accurate to say they were afraid.

The sudden intrusion of outsiders into the idyllic life of Peach Blossom Spring will naturally disturb the peaceful and contented indigenous people.

Ron rummaged through the luggage at his feet and quickly found the clown hat. It was a free gift that Anand had asked the shopkeeper to give him when he was choosing a present.

He put the clown hat on Anand's round head, and then put a red cotton ball on his nose.

Anand stared blankly at Ron, a sight that startled the people in the front row of the crowd, who all took a step back and gasped in horror.

Ron winked at him and then made a face.

Anand, who seemed to understand him perfectly, immediately smiled, then shook his head from side to side and jingled the bell.

"Hello everyone, fellow villagers, the performance is about to begin!" He made an exaggerated expression.

People burst into laughter; everyone, men, women, young and old, laughed, joked, and shouted together.

Someone reached out and touched Anand's hat, and then casually touched Ron's shoulder.

A few children in the front row reached out and touched his hand, and Ron didn't refuse, patting their heads.

Then, those who could reach him from behind patted him, stroked him, and gently grabbed him to express their friendliness.

Ron noticed Anand's eyes, which held a look of joy and pride, as if he were praying.

Anil, who was following behind, wanted to say something, but Ron stopped him with a look.

Given his status, he will likely never have such an opportunity again to get so close to the villagers.

It's fine as it is now; they don't know him, and he doesn't mind enjoying himself with these isolated tribespeople.

Anand stood by and did nothing, letting Ron suffer this well-intentioned harassment for several minutes.

Only then did he part the crowd to announce that this strange and interesting city dweller was under his jurisdiction.

Finally, he managed to make a way and get Ron to his father's house.

As they entered the dark, round room, the chattering and laughing crowd began to disperse.

Anand's home was simple, with only a few pieces of handmade wooden furniture and a bed made of coconut wood with a mesh mattress made of coconut fiber rope.

He has two younger sisters who are still in their hometown and are currently busy preparing tea and snacks for Ron and the others.

Only after they sat down to drink tea and chat did they squat down and open the suitcase filled with gifts.

The excited chatter made Ron's lips curl into a slight smile.

Through conversation, he gradually learned that the person who truly held the reins in the family was not Anand, nor his father, but his mother, Rukhmabai.

She was a full head taller than her husband, while Kishang only reached her shoulder.

The height difference, coupled with her voluptuous figure, makes her appear like an Amazonian warrior when she stands next to her husband.

Her black hair was never cut, reaching her knees, and was coated with glossy coconut oil.

Her skin was tan, and her eyes were amber, set in rose gold.

Her striking hooked nose gave her an imposing expression that made people afraid to look directly at her; her forehead was high and broad, just like Anand's.

She was literate and highly educated, and quite wise. She was the one who settled the village's civil disputes, and everyone trusted her.

Anand's family land and the small amount of property under her management gave them a certain status in the village, which they maintained through her personal prestige.

She married Kishan when she was sixteen, then had Anand, and gave birth to two younger sisters before her health deteriorated and she could no longer conceive.

She managed her household well, and in just a few years, she became the wealthiest family in the village, owning five plots of land where she grew cash crops.

They also raised three dairy cows, three bulls, two goats, and twelve chickens.

When Anand was a teenager, they sent him to Mumbai to apprentice under his uncle, a taxi driver, and live in a slum.

To be honest, Ron had been curious ever since he entered the village, but he never asked.

As is well known, the tribespeople were almost synonymous with the Dalits, or even of lower status.

But look at Sande Village outside, with its quiet streets, where is the lifelessness and despair of the untouchable ghettos?
It's a beautiful place, the villagers are kind, and the streets are cleaned.

There was absolutely no scene of high-caste people lording it over others and extorting protection money all over the streets.

It was amazing, and it greatly surprised Ron. Although there are differences between rural areas in North India and South India, it's not like the world has changed drastically.

Anand's mother, Rukhmabai, answered his question.

She said that many years ago, Sande village experienced a disaster that endangered the lives and property of the entire village.

A group of armed bandits settled in the area and began demanding protection money.

Some people from higher castes in the surrounding villages resisted, but their entire families were killed, and the women were raped.

The cowardly police didn't dare to meddle; they didn't even have guns, and going up there would just be suicide.

Bandits also came to Sande Village. Kishang and his men resisted, and some were shot dead.

Rukhmabai was very familiar with the murdered man, who was Kishan's cousin and had married a girl from Rukhmabai's village.

Men, women, and children from Sande village all attended his funeral. At the end of the ceremony, Rukhmabai addressed the gathered villagers.

Her hair was disheveled, and her amber eyes burned with anger and determination. She loudly rebuked those who wanted to tolerate the bandits and incited the villagers to rise up in resistance.

It would be best to kill them to save one's own life and land.

The villagers were greatly encouraged. They were surprised by her impassioned speech and by the fact that this woman, who had suffered repeated miscarriages, still had such an indomitable spirit.

The villagers immediately devised a plan of action and resistance, and the news that Sande Village was determined to fight back reached the ears of the bandits.

They made threats, engaged in sporadic harassment, and launched sneak attacks to probe the situation, ultimately escalating the conflict to the point where only World War I could have prevailed.

The bandits gave a vicious warning: the villagers had to pay a huge protection fee on a certain day, or they would suffer a terrible fate.

The villagers used sickles, axes, wooden sticks, and knives as weapons, while women and children were evacuated to neighboring villages.

The men who stayed behind to defend against the enemy were generally filled with fear and regret. Several men argued that the resistance was too reckless, and that paying protection money was better than dying.

The murdered man's brother, along with Kishang, strode confidently among the villagers, encouraging and comforting them while rebuking those who were cowardly and intentionally backed down.

The alarm sounded, and bandits were approaching the village along the path. The villagers hid behind hastily built bunkers between their mud houses, feeling both excited and afraid.

Just as they were about to take action, the villagers realized that the newcomers were their own people.

A week ago, after hearing the news that a war was about to break out with the bandits, Kishan's brother immediately gathered six friends and cousins ​​from his slum and set off to return home to help his family.

Kishan's brother was also short and stocky, and his friends didn't look particularly burly either, but they had all made their way up through the rough and tumble streets of Mumbai.

Among them was a tall young man named Raju, with a handsome face and a fluffy hairstyle reminiscent of a Mumbai movie star.

He brought two pistols and showed them to the villagers, which greatly boosted their confidence.

The bandits were arrogant and overconfident. They swaggered into the village just as the sun was setting.

Before the bandit leader could finish his vicious threats, Raju had already stepped out of his bunker and walked towards the bandits, firing a shot every three steps.

The farmers, risking their lives, threw axes, sickles, knives, sticks, and stones from behind their bunkers, killing many bandits on the spot.

Raju strode forward, and the last bullet struck the bandit leader in the chest at close range, killing him.

The villagers said that the guy fell to the ground after he died.

The other wounded bandits scattered and fled, but several were captured and killed by Kishang and his men, and they never appeared again.

The villagers carried the bodies of the bandit leader and several of his men to the county police station. All the villagers gave the same story: they fought against the bandits, and in the chaos, someone picked up a dropped gun and killed the villains.

They made no mention of the villagers who came back from Mumbai to help, or that loud-mouthed Raju.

To make his argument more convincing, Anand even took Ron to the site of the great battle, near the low wall with bunkers at the village entrance.

The onlookers wanted to reenact the scene for him, and young men vied to play Raju.

While watching the villagers' performance with amusement, Ron asked Anand what happened to Raju afterward.

Anand told him that Raju died the following year in a fight at a Mumbai bar.

Two other young boys who fought bandits at the time also died in similar murders.

Another person committed a crime of passion and is currently in jail.

They were heroes who saved the villagers from crisis in Sand Village, but in Mumbai they were outright criminals.

But for Sander Village, that great battle back then made them proud.

Sande Village's reputation spread throughout the Jamnell region, and the high-caste families in the vicinity dared not cause them any trouble; even the police kept their distance.

Those bandits were extremely vicious and had killed countless people; the police were helpless.

Now that the problem has been solved by Sander Village, the deterrent power of the former is self-evident.

Now Ron finally understood why the villagers in this village were different from others.

They are proud, with their own heroic deeds to be proud of.

This also explains why Anand, that bastard, dared to swindle Ron, a Brahmin, when they first met.

He grew up in such an environment, and that pride and confidence were passed down to him.

Ron was quite satisfied with his trip to the Mabang countryside.

(End of this chapter)