I am a master in India

Chapter 453 World Trade Center
Ron picked Ravi up from school.

Among a large group of children in white school uniforms of various skin colors, he couldn't recognize his son at a glance.

For the first time in his life, he was exactly like everyone else around him.

Ron was overjoyed, his heart overflowing with the pride of being a father.

Ravi attends the preschool at the Mumbai International School, their family's school.

Previously, international schools were a 12-year integrated system, without preschool classes.

But it was available when Ravi was ready to go to school.

Agalon was taken to Chennai by Kavia, where he will spend his kindergarten years.

The elderly people in the south were particularly reluctant to part with him, especially Jayalalita, who kept trying to persuade Kavia to let Agalon receive some Tamil cultural education.

It's not too late to come to Mumbai when he starts primary school, at least then he can learn how to speak Tamil.

Kavia agreed, as Chennai also has very well-known schools.

In addition, she is pregnant again and feels more comfortable staying in her hometown, where her family can take care of her at any time.

Ron also frequently travels to Chennai for business trips and stays there for a period of time, but this does not affect the relationship between their families.

Ron understood their thinking; they simply wanted Agalondo to make an appearance in Chennailu to solidify his status as the heir to the South Indian throne.

There's no problem with that; he had already planned out his future in his mind.

Now that Ravi is the only one in Mumbai, Ron quickly discovers that he is different from others.

As they left the school, a little girl named Como chattered with him in Marathi.

She told Ron that her grandmother was coming to see her soon and asked Ron to help her put the tattoo sticker on the back of her hand.

She took out her treasures from her schoolbag and showed them to Ron one by one: a potato shaped like a porcupine covered with matchsticks, her coloring book, and little crafts cut into strips at one end that could be loosely gathered together to fold into interesting shapes.
Cuomo also solemnly asked Ron to tell Isa that a certain store was the best place to buy shoes for Ravi.

Ravi tried to talk to her and the other children around her, but no one understood English.

“Don’t you speak Marathi?” Ron asked him.

“I can only speak a little bit,” he explained to Ron gently. “Dad, would you send me to an English-speaking school?”

“This is it.” Ron said, both amused and exasperated.

"Then why don't they speak English?"

“They are still young and have just started learning English. They have spoken Marathi since they were little.”

"Why don't they speak Hindi? You and your mother both speak Hindi."

"Because my parents spoke Hindi when they were young, which is in the north, and it's different from Mumbai."

Ron patiently explained to Ravi how complex the language of this country was.

However, English serves as a bridge; once all the students in the school speak English, everyone will be able to understand each other.

For the first time ever, he was able to describe in detail what he did at school. He used chili peppers as paintbrushes, dipping them in paint to draw on paper.

Then he did some crafts, building a small house and a sun. He did a jigsaw puzzle and even ate "square rice cake," which Isha told him was called "donkla," a traditional snack from Mabang.

Ron listened with a smile to Ravi's childish words; before starting school, he had never had the urge to share his experiences.

Even if you are very wealthy and can afford a top-notch private tutor, don't isolate your child from the group.

On Ravi's first night at Mumbai International School, a classmate's mother came to Isha and said that a child in the class was having a birthday party on Saturday, asking if they wanted to attend.

The next day, Isa went to pick up Ravi from school and met another mother. Her family had recently moved back to Mumbai from South Africa and were preparing to take their child to the Chongshan Club for swimming.

The club used to be open only to white people, but now Indian immigrants with foreign passports can enter, including some powerful elites.

Ron's family quickly became sought after and invited by the parents of his classmates.

Before Ravi started school, no one had an excuse to invite them to birthday parties or bring their children over.

To them, the Ron family was too high-end and too international, just like foreign aristocrats.

Birds of a feather flock together, so those who are "international" tend to integrate into high-end social circles.

It belongs to wealthy, English-speaking Mumbai elites or returned Indian expatriates.

After several years of development and refinement, many of the students at Mumbai International School are descendants of businessmen or even royalty.

Ravi's education far surpassed that of Ron in his childhood; at least in India, he received the most elite education.

Mumbai International School, leveraging its financial resources, has overtaken other prestigious schools, proving itself to be in no way inferior to those of "Cathedral" or "Scottish".

Ravi will spend his carefree childhood alongside children from wealthy families, a childhood far more colorful and fulfilling than that of their parents.

In Mumbai, it is certainly difficult for a fish to leap over the dragon gate, but it is equally difficult to humble oneself.

The mothers at Mumbai International School truly possess an iron will; they meticulously plan their children's birthday parties.

Ravi visited one of them, a luxury apartment on Kraft Boulevard.

All the party elements were imported from Dubai, and professional artists were invited to perform basketball shooting with well-trained dogs.

As a guest, Ravi received three sets of imported crayons and watercolor pens, luxuries that Ron called "dip pens" when he was a child.

The party attracted hundreds of children, and the organizers spent no less than a million rupees, or twenty or thirty thousand US dollars. But in the Mumbai Highlands circle, the money was well spent. It was social training for the children and an essential part of their lives.

What these children really need to worry about, no matter how old they get, are these two questions: Who will invite me to their party? And who should I invite to my party?
The poorer the country, the more enthusiastic it seems to be about parties. Parties are constantly happening in Mumbai, and the invitations sent are incredibly creative and dazzling.

Some were stuffed into wool gloves, some were rolled up in spirits glasses, and some were packed in boxes with pasta, dried mushrooms, and spices.

These invitations were for adults, and the guest list largely overlapped with that of a birthday party at an international school in Mumbai.

These adult parties often feature Mumbai women with beautiful faces, hot figures, and revealing clothing.

When Ron returned to Mumbai, he noticed a new phenomenon: single people over forty years old were still living carefree lives.

A libertine, somewhat crude yet pragmatic, explained why he remains unmarried: "If you can drink milk every day, why would you need to buy a cow?"

The "cow" he was referring to was a Mumbai woman in her early thirties, who always claimed to be twenty-eight. Because she was single, she was popular with everyone, but also lonely because she was single.

She is the top choice for married men and wealthy fat men; as long as there is an embrace to spend the long night with, anything is fine.

But from her exquisite makeup and her flirtatious banter in public, one could not see the slightest trace of vulnerability or self-pity.

Married women envied her, but who knew her suffering?

The tide of globalization has finally encroached upon this metropolis, along with the worship of money.

The phrase "compassionate and righteous Indians" is gradually becoming less reliable and credible.

Besides witnessing Ravi's schooling, Ron also had to manage his own business.

The most important brand in Mumbai is, of course, Suer Electric, which is a veritable national brand with a huge influence throughout the Indian subcontinent.

Today, Suer Electric is a behemoth that produces almost every electrical appliance needed in people's lives.

From the kitchen to the living room and then to the bedroom, the Sulp logo can be seen everywhere.

As India's economy continues to improve, large appliances such as air conditioners, refrigerators, and washing machines are becoming increasingly popular in the market.

Even laptops, after several generations of upgrades, are now quite well-known.

However, the most successful product in the past two years is still the mobile phone.

Since securing the chip, Suer Mobile has entered an era of rapid expansion.

As of this year, India has approximately five million mobile phone users. Of these, 83% use Sur mobile phones.

From less than 100,000 five years ago to five million this year, Suer Electric Appliances has made a great contribution.

The second-generation phone is now on the market, with more comprehensive functions and greater reliability than its predecessor.

Previous defects and obvious bugs have been fixed, making daily use smoother.

If all goes as expected, the next generation of Suer phones will be more mature.

The internal R&D team has gradually taken over most of the design work.

After two years of studying with Hua Zi in Suer Electric's talent training program, I'm finally ready to graduate.

As for chips, Ron had no ambition. What could he possibly do when the whole of India couldn't even manage it?

Of course, this doesn't affect Suer Electric's advertising.

With the booming sales of Suer mobile phones, the slogan of the SunGod chip was chanted again and again.

Words like "self-developed" and "technology" have gradually become synonymous with Suer Electric Appliances.

Ron is finally set to make a living off patriotism.

The first mobile phone chip company in all of India—what an honor that was!

New Delhi is all advocating for him, and even the great philanthropist Luo felt a little embarrassed by some of the things he said.

However, in India where Bharatism is prevalent, this is a good thing.

Everyone believed that Suer Electric would achieve great success again and perhaps even gain a foothold in the international market.

Then a piece of news suddenly appeared in the newspaper: India's neighbor, East Asia, seemed to be going to join the WTO.

This news spread throughout the business world in an instant, and Indian companies were filled with fear, worried that cheap Dongda goods would flood the domestic market.

Indian media are filled with reports that East Asia's umbrella, battery, and fireworks companies will overshadow their local counterparts.

There's no way around it; Indians have extremely complex feelings towards this neighbor.

They envy the achievements of others, yet they go to great lengths to belittle them, as if they disdain them.

What India is most powerless to change is that the two countries have similar populations and started on the same footing, with India even having a slight advantage.

But they just can't produce the same high-quality, low-priced products as the University of Tokyo, even though their labor costs are lower.

The executives at Suer Electric were also very nervous about the East after joining the WTO, knowing that many spare parts still rely on exports from there.

If trade barriers are removed, can the two sides still cooperate as happily as before?

Ron was unaware that he was preparing to return to New Delhi, where Sunshine Smart City had already opened.

In this type of real estate and commercial area, there are no outsiders competing.

(End of this chapter)