I am a master in India

Chapter 471 Paradise
Who are Barum's friends? They're those pot-bellied fat men who walk the streets waving batons, harassing vendors, and extorting protection money.

He was referring, of course, to the police.

The next day, Barum paid a local to act as his translator. North India speaks Hindi, while Bangalore speaks Kannada.

He doesn't speak the local language or English, so he has to find someone to translate for him.

He went to the nearest police station, carrying the red travel bag, and put on an air of importance, constantly shaking the bag so that all the police officers could see it.

He also handed out the newly printed business cards to them and insisted on seeing their leader, the police chief.

They finally got Barum into his office, and the red travel bag worked wonders.

Their leader sat behind a huge desk, his khaki uniform adorned with a gleaming police badge, and a red dot on his forehead representing his religious beliefs.

There were three statues behind him, but none of them were the ones Barum was looking for.

But thank God, there's still a picture of Gandhi there, tucked away in a corner.

Barum, all smiles, clasped his hands together and handed him the red travel bag.

What followed was just as it has happened in countless Indian police stations or official residences: the two sides had a very pleasant conversation.

It's unbelievable that the moment you show your money, everyone can immediately understand the language you're speaking.

Yes, Barum spoke Hindi, and the police chief also spoke to him in Hindi, not the haughty Kannada he had spoken to when he first entered.

The arrest warrant was there while Barum was haggling with the chief, and it even had a small, dark photo of him on it.

Two days later, Barum called the kind lady from the internet company who had rejected him, and heard some astonishing news.

Her taxi service has been suspended after a police raid revealed that most of the drivers did not have licenses.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Barum said. “I express my sympathy to you, and I also introduce my company to you, Truth Taxi Company.”

Do your drivers all have driver's licenses?

"Of course, ma'am. You can call the police to verify."

She must have called the police and then called Barum back.

Barum believed the police must have said something good about him, and as a result, his company, in English terms, "got off the ground."

Oh, by the way, "Satya" in Hindi means "truth, reality".

Barum felt the name was meaningful, representing that he had found the "truth" and "freedom" in life.

Mr. Satya, you are a great host.

Barum was initially one of the drivers, but he stopped driving later. Actually, he didn't like driving; he found chatting with people much more interesting.

In just six months, his taxi business had grown into a large company. He had sixteen drivers and twenty-six vehicles, divided into several shifts.

Yes, that's right: four million rupees from one person, plus hard work, is enough to create miracles in this country.

If you combine his real estate and bank holdings, Barum's net worth is already five or six times the amount he originally borrowed from Satya.

He even created a website for his company, featuring his motto: We advance technology! And it's in English.

Those twenty-six brand-new Toyota Camrys were all equipped with air conditioning, which is essential for summer, and all had contracts with well-known technology companies.

Oh, by the way, Barum has now changed his name to Satya Nissat. He's an entrepreneur from northern India who now resides in Bangalore.

This information was registered on the company's official website, and he bid farewell to his past.

Barum sometimes felt that he would never be caught, and that someone always had to break through those chicken coops.

He paid no heed to the Yadav family's bounty notice; he had switched allegiance and was now one of those who could roam freely in India.

At this moment, he would look up at the chandelier overhead, wanting nothing more than to raise his hands and shout, loud enough to travel all the way to the United States through the customer service center's phone lines:
I did it! I've broken out of the chicken coop!
Sometimes, however, when someone shouts "Barum" on the street, he will turn his head away, thinking to himself that his identity has been exposed.

If you get arrested, that possibility always exists. Even if you give the police all the brown envelopes and red travel bags, they will still continue to blackmail you.

One day, perhaps a guy in uniform will point at him and say, "The time has come, Barum."

However, even if he were imprisoned, even if he had to walk down the wooden stairs toward the noose, Barum had no regrets.

If I could experience what it's like not to be a servant, even for just a day, an hour, or a minute, it would all be worth it.

Dressed in a suit and tie, Barum composed himself, picked up a glass of red wine, and slowly walked toward the person who was the center of attention.

“Mr. Suer, the special economic zone is a brilliant idea. I think Truth Taxi Company should explore more cooperation with you.”

Suer Real Estate's real estate business is growing, and in addition to several commercial districts, it is gradually getting involved in municipal construction.

For example, the greenery along the streets of Mumbai, and the contracting work for train platforms and stations.

The city's population has been growing explosively, and even though Mumbai has dozens of railway lines running through the city, it remains extremely crowded.

During rush hour, the transportation system operates at high speed and is extremely busy. Anyone who has booked a seat on an Indian train should be familiar with this expression: squeeze in.

You and two other passengers are sitting peacefully in the three-seater, but there will always be a fourth and fifth person who will come up to you and say, "Help me squeeze in."

Reservations are useless; three seats for five people. You have no choice but to squeeze in. Crowded Mumbai is used to crowds, whether in train carriages or apartments.

In the West, Indian apartments often house large families, which puzzles and surprises onlookers. Landladys may even withhold part of the deposit, citing reasons such as "two more adults mean more wear and tear."

But in Mumbai, no one questions how many people can live in an apartment. It's perfectly normal for relatives, friends, and friends of friends to live under the same roof. As for how to arrange their living arrangements, that depends on their individual abilities.

An advertisement for Ambassador cars recently published in a magazine perfectly illustrates this style.

The image shows an Ambassador sedan driving in the rain. Its simple design is reminiscent of a 1950s Maurice Oxford, and its wide grille makes its front face seem to always be smiling.

Like an elephant, the Ambassador brand, seemingly clumsy yet actually clever and adorable, doesn't boast a simple exterior design, but rather features leather seats, a digital instrument panel, and electronic fuel injection.
Instead, its advertisements depicted pedestrians hurrying along in the pouring rain with briefcases on their heads, and a conversation between two passengers crammed into the front seat of a car and the driver.

"Look, isn't that Josh?"

"Yes, let's take him along too."

"There's no room left in the car."

"Don't do that, we can always squeeze in."

In most countries, car advertisements focus on promoting the driving experience, luxurious interiors, spacious cabins, and beautiful women accompanying the car to satisfy the owner's vanity.
But the Ambassador sedan is different. Unlike the SUV, which emphasizes ample interior space, the Ambassador makes it clear that drivers and passengers will try their best to make room.

In other words, the collective space it promotes is based on the premise of repeatedly compressing personal space.

In Mumbai, where everyone believes in "squeezing in," this is the only option for people.

This is a common occurrence; taking the Vilar Express during rush hour is perhaps the most suffocating journey on any of the crowded city train lines.

You gripped the door frame above your head with both hands, the front half of your foot braced against the threshold, and most of your body was exposed outside the speeding train carriage.

The passengers were shoulder to shoulder, so crowded that you were worried you'd be pushed out of the car by the throng.

"Don't be afraid," someone will comfort you. "If they accidentally push you out, they'll be there to pull you back in."

Someone else said, "Just imagine you're in a cowshed."

This is Mumbai, a very large city.

In October, Forbes released its full list of the world's richest people this year.

Three Indians made the list: the Ambani family, Premki, and Ron Sur.

The Ambani family’s Reliance Industries, primarily engaged in petrochemicals and energy, has total assets of $34 billion and ranks 124th on the Forbes list.

Premki, the founder of Wipro software, has an estimated net worth of $69 billion, ranking him 42nd on the Forbes list.

Forbes only counted well-known assets of Ron Sue, such as Sue Electric (valued at $33 billion), Sue Properties ($27 billion), and Sue Ports ($18 billion).

Other assets, such as newly established steel mills, low-profile cement plants, and scattered real estate, are valued at a total of $4 million.

With total assets of $82 billion, he ranks 33rd on the Forbes list and is number one in India.

This list can only be considered a reference, and there are actually quite a few discrepancies. For example, the behemoth Tata is very low-key.

Ron's assets are far more than what is on the surface; aside from other things, Suer Properties and the port alone are far underestimated.

Three large commercial districts and one special economic zone have only recently begun to be put into commercial use, and their enormous potential has yet to be fully realized.

Ron is confident that within five years, he can easily increase the value of Sull Properties by six or seven times, exceeding $10 billion.

And then there's the port of Sur, where profits will only increase as trade booms. Combined with shipping, doubling or tripling those profits is entirely possible.

As for the steel mill and cement plant, one was just starting out and the other was mainly developing in North India, so they didn't attract much attention.

But what Forbes might not know is that the Sue family is known as the "Cement Kings" in the North.

Despite being underestimated, Ron still holds the title of India's richest man.

For him, India was more like a paradise than a country.

PS: The story is almost over here. When I started the book, I said I would write about all walks of life in India and the various aspects of human existence. I can barely say that I have achieved my expected goal.

Because of work, serializing for more than half a year is quite exhausting. Now I'm on Sunny Island, making the most of the last bit of summer vacation to relax.

I have to say, the seafood here is incredibly fresh; I'm finding it a bit too much to eat here for several days in a row.

After the holiday ends, I'll go back and consider whether to write some extra chapters or brainstorm ideas for the next book.

The subject matter hasn't been decided yet; it might still be overseas, or something else entirely.

Finally, thank you to all the readers who have supported me all this time. Your recognition is my greatest motivation.

The book has achieved an average score of over 9,000, which is still a few hundred points away from reaching 10,000, but I am already very satisfied. Thank you all again for your support!
(End of this chapter)