I am a master in India

Chapter 456 Identity
“Stop trying to sell him women now,” another driver interjected.

He squatted on the ground, shaking a bunch of his owner's car keys in his hand, like a child playing with toys.

“He just came from Uttar Pradesh and hasn’t seen much of the world yet. Let him go bad in the city first.” With that, he snatched the magazine and began to read it aloud.

The drivers who had been chatting suddenly fell silent and gathered around him to listen to him read a story.

The magazine he stole was, of course, Murder Weekly.

"It happened on a rainy night. Vishal was lying in bed, reeking of alcohol, his eyes fixed on the window. The woman next door had already gone home; she was planning to move out."

The driver with vitiligo suddenly exclaimed, "Hey! Something like that happened today too."

The driver, who was holding the magazine, was very annoyed by his disruption, so he read it even more enthusiastically.

However, everyone's attention shifted to the shopping mall, which, like most malls in Delhi, was off-limits to the poor.

A homeless man wearing sandals was stopped; the security guard wouldn't let him through the glass door.

Ordinary people wouldn't dare to go into such a high-end shopping mall, let alone a homeless person.

Under the watchful eye of the gatekeeper's wooden stick, the homeless man turned and left.

"I thought he was going to beat up the security guard," Vitiligo said regretfully.

"He's spineless," the driver, who was watching the commotion, shook his head.

A few minutes later, the drivers gathered in a circle again to listen to the story.

Barum saw that the key was still spinning lightly on the keychain, wisps of smoke rose above the cigarette butt, and red betel nut juice was spat out diagonally onto the ground.

The worst thing about being a driver is that you have too much free time while waiting for your boss.

To kill time, you can chat with others, scratch your crotch, or read magazines filled with murder and rape.

You can also develop a unique habit of drivers, which is really like a certain yoga pose: put a finger in your nose and sit quietly for several hours without any distractions. This is called "the yoga of the dull driver".

You can also sneak into your car and drink some Indian liquor; the boredom and dullness have turned many honest drivers into alcoholics.

However, if a driver enjoys thinking and sees his free time as an opportunity, then the worst drawback of this job immediately becomes its best advantage.

Barum was pondering why homeless people couldn't get into shopping malls, and why he couldn't snag a real blonde bombshell.

identity!

Both that homeless man and I lacked an identity that commanded respect and admiration!

So what is identity? Barum looked down at his stained shirt.

People of status certainly wouldn't wear this kind of clothing.

That evening, as he drove back to his apartment, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that Satya was wearing a T-shirt.

Barum certainly wouldn't buy that kind of T-shirt in a store, because his T-shirt was all white except for a small pattern in the middle.

He wanted to buy something brightly colored with lots of letters or patterns printed on it, because that would be more cost-effective.

So one evening, after Satya and the blonde man went upstairs, Barum went to a nearby market.

The yellow streetlights had no lampshades, and under their glaring light, vendors squatted by the roadside selling all sorts of things. In their baskets were small commodities such as glass bracelets, iron bangles, toys, headscarves, ballpoint pens, and keychains.

Barum found the man selling T-shirts, but he wasn't very satisfied with the T-shirts the man initially offered.

Then he took out an almost pure white T-shirt with an English word printed in the middle.

That's it!

Barum bought it without hesitation and then went to the person who sold the black leather shoes.

That night, he also bought his first tube of toothpaste. He bought it from the betel nut seller, Barum, who was a regular customer of his.

I used to buy betel nuts from him. Barum knew he also sold toothpaste, and the two products had the same effect on teeth.

Goddess Brand Tooth Powder: Contains activated charcoal and clove ingredients, cleans and brightens teeth, only one rupee fifty pais.

While Barum was brushing his teeth with his fingers, he paid special attention to the position of his left hand.

He has a bad habit of using his left hand to reach into his crotch.

How could someone of status do such a thing?

He needs to change this habit and be mindful of it at all times.

Upon closer inspection, his left hand, like a lizard that had quietly climbed up the wall, was already unconsciously placed on his groin, about to scratch an itch.

He waited, and as soon as it moved, he immediately caught it with his right hand.

Barum pinched the thick skin between his thumb and forefinger, because that was the most painful spot. He pinched hard for a full minute, and when he released it, a bloody mark had appeared on the back of his hand.

Look, this is your punishment. Let's see if you dare to grab your crotch again!
The toothpaste in his mouth had been rubbed into milky white foam and was starting to drip from the corner of his mouth.

He quickly spat out the toothpaste.

I brushed my teeth and vomited again, then brushed them again and vomited again.

Why didn't my father tell me before that I shouldn't scratch my crotch? Why didn't he teach me to brush my teeth with this thick, milky-white foam? Why did he raise me only to let me live like an animal? Why do poor people have to live in such dirty, ugly places? I brushed and vomited, brushed and vomited again.

How wonderful it would be if a person could so easily let go of their past!
Leila and Alice lived in a crowded alley in southern New Delhi. Their apartment was at the end of the alley, on the top floor of a building.

Judging from the skin color of the pedestrians, most of them are from Northeast China, gathering together for a sense of security.

The situation here is similar to other parts of New Delhi, where people mostly stick together because they are from the same hometown or caste.

Similarly, because of its proximity to the university, landlords are willing to make exceptions for some wealthy, high-caste Indian tenants.

Leila's apartment was small, accessible by a narrow staircase, and consisted of two rooms arranged side by side like railway tracks, leading to the roof.

At the end of the room, there is a narrow corridor leading to the kitchen and bathroom on one side. Looking down from the roof, the rooms are close together.

The rent for this house is 3500 rupees. The landlady in Punjab is a very nice person, but sometimes it depends on her mood.

Despite the high cost of living in Delhi, Leila's current rent is still higher than the market price.

The extra cost is an informal tax levied by the city's landlords on the poor and minorities.

They know these people are marginalized in the city, so landlords can charge them higher rents while providing rather basic amenities.

The small house was decorated very practically. The inner room was cramped, with only a bed, an old-fashioned television, and a refrigerator.

This is where Leila and her two sisters sleep. They also have an older sister named Mary who lives here.

The outer room was much emptier, with only the bed where their brother slept at night.

Leila's brother is 5 years older than her and is not home most of the time.

She also has an older half-brother who is married and lives in Imphal.

There is also a younger brother who is studying engineering at a private university in Bangalore. The expensive tuition fees have wiped out most of their parents' life savings.

Her brother, who lived with her, earned a master's degree in sociology, but despite applying for numerous positions and taking countless exams, he still couldn't find a suitable job.

Mary and her brother were not in the apartment at the time; only Leila and her sister were there.

The first thing Alice did upon returning to her room was to admire her Bulgari earrings in front of the mirror.

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe I’m wearing such a luxury item one day.” She was overjoyed.

"Yes, it is very pretty, but I suggest you put it away," Leila said, pouring cold water on her enthusiasm.

"Why?" Alice asked unhappily.

"Aren't you going to take a youth course recently? How much was the tuition again?"

“Ah, this… thirty-seven thousand rupees…” Alice glanced at her quietly.

"So where does the money come from?"

"Hehe..." Alice walked over and hugged Leila's arm.

"Don't even think about it, I'm paying for your university tuition. Use these earrings for the registration fee; girls like us shouldn't be buying such expensive things." Leila shut her up with one sentence.

"But I really like it." Alice pouted, then her eyes suddenly lit up.

"What mischief are you up to now?" Leila asked warily.

“Okay, I agree to sell the earrings to raise money for my lessons. But sister, your bracelet…”

“I will also sell it. My dad wants a motorcycle back in our hometown. He has been longing for it for several years.”

"No, no!" Alice exclaimed anxiously. "This is Mr. Sue's reward for you. He'll be furious if he finds out his employee sold it!"

"Really?" Leila hesitated, as if there was indeed some truth to it.

"Of course, you have to wear them when the company has major events; they're badges. But when there aren't any events, could I borrow them?"

"That's what you really wanted to say, isn't it?" Leila rolled her eyes at her.

"You're right, aren't you? How can we sell Mr. Sue's gift so easily?"

"Yes, but you'll have to support yourself from now on. After all these years, I can finally relax a bit."

Leila took off her shoes, sat cross-legged on the bed, and started watching TV.

Alice looked rather distressed. She had already graduated and had no excuse to continue living off her sister.

Today's trip to Sunshine City broadened her horizons. Those luxury boutiques, upscale restaurants, brand-name clothing stores…

She also wanted to be a customer there, able to step into any store without any worries or concerns.

She wanted to walk proudly through the mall, live in a luxury apartment with a monthly rent of 10,000 rupees, and become a member of the Sunshine Smart City.

"I want to go there for an interview!"

"Huh?" Leila was startled by her.

"I've made up my mind. I'll go for an interview at the Sunshine City office building in the next couple of days!" Alice clenched her fist.

(End of this chapter)