I'm a Master in India

India also has labor unions, and they don't just exist, they play a very significant role.

Workers often go on strike, and the reasons for striking are diverse.

It could be low wages, poor working conditions, or even sectarian discrimination; in short, the reasons are varied and numerous.

The major strike in the early 1980s played a significant role in the sudden collapse of Mumbai's textile industry back then.

These large-scale strikes and protests are all organized by labor unions behind the scenes.

However, this is India, and on this magical land, abstract things always seem to happen.

In recent years, with the rise of corruption, labor unions have become tools for many individuals to seek personal gain.

For example, employers collude with union leaders to secure agreements unfavorable to workers.

Conversely, if employers don't bribe union leaders, the latter can also force workers to join strikes to threaten the employers.

What's even more outrageous is that some union leaders even demand workers offer their wives and daughters in exchange for helping them arrange jobs.

The lower class in India is submissive, and such sordid affairs are only more common, not less.

There's also a type of union that becomes a political tool; they are often controlled by a specific political party to rally support at the appropriate time.

The union Thackeray mentioned is precisely this type; the Shiv Sena owns and manages unions, student groups, women's organizations, employment centers, nursing homes, cooperative banks, and newspapers, totaling over 800,000 members.

Without a doubt, this is a massive force; you could even say that the Shiv Sena organization is the parallel government of Mumbai.

After all, the municipal service company is also in the hands of the Shiv Sena, and it is the essential link for the public to access welfare services.

Now Thackeray is inviting Ron to join the Shiv Sena's union and offering him protection.

The benefits are obvious: Ron won't have to worry about strikes in the future, nor will he have to frequently bribe various government officials.

With the backing of the Shiv Sena, various overt and covert troubles will automatically recede.

To be honest, this is exactly what Ron needs.

He is currently very prominent, and Sul Electrical Factory is frequently in the spotlight, so it's inevitable that some people will harbor ill intentions.

If Thackeray, this "tiger," speaks up, it will be enough to allow him to pass through his growth period safely and without worry.

Of course, all of this requires an exchange of interests.

"Your factory must provide four lakh rupees in activity funds for the union every year."

He directly stated the condition.

"Okay."

Ron agreed without hesitation.

"Also, you must hire more Marathi people; they have contributed a lot to Mumbai's prosperity."

"There are at least thirty Marathi people in my factory; they are all my friends, including my most capable assistant."

Thackeray looked at Ron in surprise, then nodded at him, showing goodwill.

Most members of the Shiv Sena are Marathi people, including Thackeray himself.

They are the indigenous residents of Maharashtra and the original masters of Mumbai.

In recent years, with a large influx of migrants to Mumbai, Marathi people only account for 40% of Mumbai's population, which has given Thackeray a sense of crisis.

The predecessor of the Shiv Sena was the Marathi Employment Center founded by Thackeray in the 1960s.

They continuously fought for the employment rights of Marathi people, forcing 80% of the jobs in the Mumbai market to hire Marathi people.

Thackeray achieved this goal, but those 80% of jobs were also the lowest-end in Mumbai: typists, stenographers, salespeople.

"How can this work? Unless you are in power, the social status of Marathi people cannot be improved."

So Thackeray formed the Shiv Sena.

For so many years, he has continuously worked hard for this, but with the closure of many factories, Marathi people who lost their jobs could only leave Mumbai to find other opportunities.

Now, let alone 80% of low-end jobs, the total population of Marathi people in Mumbai is steadily declining.

But Thackeray still hasn't given up; he is still asking his union to hire more Marathi people.

Ron's actions made him feel favorable; he knew that Sul Electrical Factory was not large and had been established for less than half a year.

"These are the business cards of the main members within the union; if you need help, feel free to come find me."

Thackeray had a servant hand Ron a whole large box of business cards.

Inside were famous car dealers, airline owners, jewelers, Bollywood directors, producers; Ron even saw a few acquaintances.

Wow, it turns out everyone who joined Thackeray's union were Mumbai's social elites, the very top tier.

"Thank you, this is very useful to me."

Ron accepted it without formality.

"As long as I make one phone call, they will obediently stand before me."

Thackeray's tone was proud, "Because I can indeed help them solve difficult problems."

"Unexpected things always happen in the city of Mumbai."

"That's right, that's why the Shiv Sena needs to exist."

During the conversation, a young woman brought over two cups of tea; the one for Ron was dark and rich, and its refreshing effect was comparable to Red Bull.

Thackeray drank some kind of grayish-white milky drink from a glass, and he touched the young woman's hand, acting affectionately as if they were husband and wife.

However, from the young woman's address, Ron heard the Marathi word for "father-in-law."

Okay, this charming woman is his daughter-in-law.

Whatever Thackeray said, his daughter-in-law didn't pay attention.

This woman's beautiful eyes frequently lingered on Ron; compared to her father-in-law, Ron's appearance was comparable to a Bollywood movie star.

Hey, I'm not interested in what goes on between you and your father-in-law, and even less interested in joining you, so please stop staring at me.

Ron lowered his head and focused on tasting the tea. Hmm, the green tea taste was very strong.

Thackeray seemed a bit unhappy; he waved his hand to send his daughter-in-law away.

"I heard your water-based air conditioner is good for health?"

"It has remarkable effects on patients with dry throat pain and rhinitis, and it won't give you headaches or air conditioning sickness."

The air conditioning in the room was set high, so Thackeray was naturally comfortable, but Ron was sweating profusely, with beads of sweat on his philtrum.

"Sounds good. I always want to drink water after staying in a room for a long time. So the culprit is the air conditioner."

Ron was a bit speechless. You mean you don't know these common sense facts?

"I'll have someone send a water-based air conditioner over tomorrow; it's easy to install. You can try it."

Despite the internal complaint, Ron was still very perceptive.

"Try it..."

He nodded and repeated softly.

Seeing that he wasn't very interested in talking, Ron immediately got up to leave.

After greeting him, Thackeray got up and left the reception room on his own.

Rafiq saw Ron out. This burly man worshipped Thackeray greatly.

In his words, "As long as the boss gives the word, we are willing to die generously at any time."

Ron found it hard to understand this kind of feeling; this wasn't the bond that should exist in a political party, but rather more like the loyalty in a gang.

Rafiq also told him that the activity fee paid by Sul Electrical was the lowest among union members.

It was all because "Dr. Sul is a good person," which seemed to have become a consensus in Mumbai.

Thackeray saw the report about Ron on TV, and then he had the Shiv Sena-controlled newspaper "Saamana" publish an editorial on this matter.

In short, the reason why this "tiger" summoned Ron was more because of the latter's reputation.

The 400,000 rupees in union activity fees were insignificant to Thackeray; he just wanted to tell the outside world: a good person like Dr. Sul, praised by everyone, also cannot do without the protection of the Shiv Sena.

Mumbai cannot do without the Shiv Sena, nor can it do without him, Thackeray.

This was a political calculation; money was not that important.

Ron had no room to refuse, and of course, he wouldn't reject it either; everyone got what they needed.

Leaving Thackeray's villa, Ron finally breathed a sigh of relief.

No one wanted to offend this person who single-handedly instigated the Mumbai riots.

His subordinates were either desperadoes or fanatical sectarian elements, the kind who play with their lives.

It's actually quite funny, Ron now truly feels a bit like Mumbai's mascot.

Gang boss Had Khan said he would protect him, and the Shiv Sena boss also wanted to protect him.

One is a gang boss and Muslim, the other is a ruling party figure and Hindu.

This situation, well, this situation is about playing both sides.

Mascot is mascot, but at least he has some say.

"Muslims have messed up this city."

Singh looked at the white caps on the street with disgust in his tone.

"I told you so, they brought it upon themselves."

Harry shook his head, indicating agreement.

"It's just a shame about the many innocent people."

Ron sipped his coffee, looking out at the Gateway of India outside the window.

They were having a small gathering at the Taj Mahal Hotel, and Ajay Lal was also present.

Ron happened to run into a few of them; Ajay was investigating the bombing, and Singh from the airport and Harry from customs had all given statements.

Since they were all acquaintances, Ron simply played matchmaker and invited everyone out for some afternoon tea.

"How is your case investigation going?"

Ron asked the troubled-looking Ajay.

"We caught the first suspect; that guy's Suzuki car had detonators for explosives. Speaking of which, the motorcycle you identified back then helped a lot."

"What?"

Ron didn't expect the gossip to involve himself.

Ajay explained that they tracked down the motorcycle and found a small fry named "Black Eye."

Following him, they tracked down a small leader.

They found the Suzuki car near the leader's residence, and even his slippers had "black soap" on them.

This leader was, as expected, from the Dawood gang; using him as a breakthrough, more suspects will soon be brought to justice.

Unfortunately, Ajay knew that the real mastermind, Dawood, was far away in Dubai, and he was destined to get away with it.

After hearing this, Singh and Harry, in unison, cursed the Muslims again; everyone knew that most people in the Dawood gang were Muslims.

Speaking of which, after this bombing, many cultured and educated people have become anti-Muslim and hostile towards Muslims.

Because Hindus mostly only cause trouble for Muslims, but when Muslims are ruthless, they even kill their own people; they carry out indiscriminate attacks.

Whose harm is greater is clear at a glance.

"Oh, right, Ron, I heard you're going to become a real doctor?"

Harry joked.

"Yaar, I heard the Medical Council of India is going to issue you a medical license."

Singh laughed heartily, and Ajay also looked like he was enjoying the spectacle.

"Don't mention it, they didn't allow me to refuse at all."

Ron shrugged, feeling it was outrageous.

Just because he saved someone and happened to be in the newspaper.

And then he could get a medical license that many people struggled through hardships to get, without any examination.

Abstract, it's too damn abstract.

This is a medical license for saving lives and helping the injured, not a veterinary license you can buy with a little money.

Ron even found it a bit funny; this was too childish.

"This is good too; you've gained another skill."

Harry said with a smile, "What about your electrical factory? I heard it's selling well."

"I'm planning to find a Bollywood director to shoot a commercial; I want to promote it in several inland states of India."

"You're looking for a commercial director?"

Suddenly Ajay interrupted.

"Yes, Bollywood is very close to my electrical factory."

Ron looked at him strangely.

"Uh, my father is a Bollywood director; maybe I can introduce you?"

Ajay was a bit hesitant; his father needed this directing job now.

Ron blinked, his mind couldn't quite process it. Ajay's father is actually a Bollywood director?

Interesting. Looking at his embarrassed expression, his old man is probably that kind of failed director.

But it's just a commercial; there aren't that many requirements for the director.

So Ron nodded happily, "No problem, I'll go visit him in a couple of days."

Ah, even a selfless policeman can't escape social etiquette and favors.