I'm a Master in India

Mulayam Yadav had run for election twice, the first time in the late 1980s.

At that time, India's economy was closed, and all industries required licenses; sectors like energy and mining were state-owned.

It was difficult for ordinary businessmen to get involved; most found loopholes to dabble in daily necessities.

This made it difficult for Yadav to raise sufficient election funds, as the businessmen didn't have much money either.

But there was one exception: the liquor business run by Gurdeep Chadha.

In fact, many Indian castes prohibit alcohol, and most people inherently look down on the brewing industry.

Additionally, Indian men tend to cause trouble after drinking, with women particularly suffering, leading many politicians to advocate for prohibition.

The Indian government implemented controls, not only regulating the price and location of alcohol sales but also imposing extremely high tariffs on imported liquor.

Later on, even the basic raw material for brewing rum and whiskey, molasses, was controlled, with its price and transaction volume determined by regulatory bodies.

Finally, taxes on distilleries were heavy, and local governments had hundreds of complex regulations targeting the liquor industry.

It was said that opening a distillery required government departments to approve 200,000 various licenses.

An astronomical number! If you followed the process strictly, you might not be able to get a distillery running in ten years.

Even today, this licensing system has not been abolished.

Yes, the licensing system for most industries was abolished in '91, but it was retained for some key sectors.

For example, industries with state-owned characteristics like liquor, petrochemicals, steel, and mining still require licenses.

To restrict the development of the liquor industry, politicians and the government went to great lengths.

Yet, Indians love to drink, especially whiskey; Indian men cannot refuse whiskey.

The huge demand market forced liquor businessmen to find ways to build connections at the government level.

Chadha and Yadav hit it off immediately; one needed government licenses, the other needed businessmen's money.

After Yadav got the money, he began various unconventional operations with only one goal: election bribery.

Bribe whom? The voters of Uttar Pradesh, of course.

India's election system dictates that a political party that secures a majority of votes in a state can directly nominate the Chief Minister.

To ensure the Socialist Party's victory, Yadav naturally tried everything to get votes.

In some areas, cash was given directly; in others, fake weddings were held, entertaining villagers with good food and drink.

They also gave away things like cannabis, fertilizer, and seeds, among others. The most violent method was to forcibly order villagers to vote, giving them no choice.

In short, the methods were varied, and all required money.

Having served as Chief Minister once, Yadav knew well that if he wanted to continue governing Uttar Pradesh in the future, he had to make a lot of money during his term.

Otherwise, where would the funds for the next election come from? And where would the capital for a comeback after failure come from?

In the first few years, due to lack of experience, Yadav hadn't really made much money. Moreover, the economy wasn't active then, and businessmen didn't have much to offer.

It's different now; the licensing system was only abolished two years ago, and Yadav could already hear the flow of money.

Today, someone from the Dubey family in eastern Uttar Pradesh visited; Yadav knew this caste controlled land resources.

Land is wealth, especially as time progresses, this wealth is appreciating.

So Yadav specially set aside time to meet with them.

The state Chief Minister has a special residence in New Delhi, but Yadav still preferred to stay in his Uttar Pradesh office; here, he could experience the taste of power anytime.

Ron and Aditya followed behind Dubey and walked straight into the Chief Minister's office.

Unexpectedly, the office didn't look luxurious; a poster from Yadav's election campaign hung on the wall.

On the walnut-colored desk was a bicycle-shaped clock, which was the symbol of the Socialist Party in Uttar Pradesh.

Mulayam Yadav had a square face and dark skin.

He looked not only far from imposing but also very amiable.

Dubey greeted him with an Anjali Mudra (folded hands), and Ron and Aditya followed suit.

Yadav spoke directly, but his voice was neither rushed nor slow, sounding like a kind old man.

After the greetings, Dubey explained their purpose, then nodded towards Ron and Aditya and left the office.

For the following occasion, not many people were needed; the fewer, the better.

Ron was also very direct; he placed the travel bag in his hand onto Yadav's desk.

Yadav carefully opened it, his gaze no longer as calm as before.

"Sir, I want to express a little of my gratitude to you," Ron began.

"Thank me for what?" Yadav squinted, looking at the contents of the bag.

"Thank you for the favor you are about to do for me," Ron smiled.

"So your favor is..."

"Mirzapur, the limestone mine."

"Your gratitude needs to be increased a little," he said, counting the money.

"Okay, I can add another third."

"What are you planning to do?" Yadav changed the question.

Agree on the price first, then talk business.

"I plan to open a cement factory; Uttar Pradesh is short of cement everywhere. Mr. Chadha promised to help me build branch factories, but the project stopped right after it started because of the cement shortage."

"Chadha? You have business dealings?"

"Of course, and we will continue to do so in the future; my cement will be supplied to him continuously."

"When can it be built? I don't want it to drag on too long."

"Within two years, I guarantee it, but this might require a little more help from you."

"Tell me."

"I need financial support from the Uttar Pradesh State Bank."

"What is the budget for this project?" Yadav narrowed his eyes.

"100 million rupees, with an annual output of 100,000 tons."

"And the loan?"

"Seventy million, with a 10% budget variance," Ron hinted.

The so-called budget variance was a kickback.

Yadav quickly calculated, his mind instantly filled with rupees.

This was a large sum of money, enough to rank among his top three bribe amounts.

"The Sul family is in the east, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Ron nodded.

"You can handle the crazy east, right?"

"Of course, the Sul family is capable," Aditya answered this time.

The crazy east, this was how outsiders referred to the eastern region of Uttar Pradesh.

It is well known that Uttar Pradesh has the highest crime rate in the country, and the eastern region has the highest crime rate within Uttar Pradesh.

When Bollywood filmed movies about bandits and the mafia, they always used that area as the setting.

The Gotham within Gotham, this was the dark reputation of Ron's hometown.

Without some skills, you really couldn't make it there. Ratan buying firearms wasn't just for fun either.

"I don't want to hear about too many homicide cases," Yadav looked at the two.

"No problem, it will definitely not be reported," Aditya was familiar with this kind of thing!

Yadav pressed the electronic bell on his desk, and an assistant quickly entered.

"Every year, one million young people in Uttar Pradesh enter the market, but job opportunities are pitifully scarce. The construction of the Sul Cement Factory can create thousands of jobs within the state. If reporters ask later, this is how you answer."

"Yes, sir!" The assistant wrote it down word for word.

"I will notify the relevant people below; you should be able to get the license in about two weeks."

"Thank you for your generous help," Ron and Aditya left the office.

This was their first time connecting with this Chief Minister, and they didn't have a deep conversation.

But where there's a first time, there will be a second; there's plenty of time ahead.

Standing outside the corridors of power in Uttar Pradesh, Ron took a deep breath.

"Second Uncle, in the next election, I will definitely get you into the state assembly."

Aditya was startled, then his breathing quickened, "Ron, that will require a lot of money, you know. I haven't even thought about that day."

"Money is not a problem. After you are elected as a state assembly member, we can get even more money back."

"I hate Yadav, but I will join the Socialist Party."

Ron laughed heartily; now *that* was a qualified politician.

Doing business in India is inseparable from dealing with politics; in fact, the boundary between the political and business worlds is inherently blurred.

If Aditya hadn't known Dubey, and Dubey was a state assembly member, they might have found it difficult to be introduced to the Chief Minister.

But once the connection was made, the transaction became simple.

It was nothing but money; Indian politicians only sought wealth, and this point made Ron very satisfied.

Yadav's appetite wasn't large yet; 2 million rupees in cash secured the mining rights for the Mirzapur limestone mine.

Of course, the 7 million bank kickback also counted, but that was money for building the cement factory.

The 100 million rupee budget wasn't just Ron talking off the cuff either.

He was only building a small cement factory; not considering mining and land costs, this money was basically spent on equipment.

Rotary kilns and grinding mills are the core equipment for a cement factory, and they are large-scale machinery.

Fortunately, the technology for this kind of basic industrial equipment is relatively mature in India, and the price is not outrageous.

But tens of millions of rupees were unavoidable; adding mining equipment, 100 million rupees was the baseline.

This was Ron's largest investment to date.

"Ron, that's 100 million rupees. Even if the bank provides most of the funds, what about the remaining thirty million? Can your own factory afford that much?"

"I won't be paying the remaining thirty million either," Ron replied with a smile.

"Huh?" Aditya was a little confused.

"I will find a way to get a loan from another bank."

Small businesses are one thing, but for a project investing hundreds of millions, how could he use his own money?

Ron would take out a loan of thirty million rupees from a Mumbai bank in the name of Sul Electronics, citing factory expansion as the reason.

The Juhu and Kimbol factory areas were both under construction, so the bank would have no reason to doubt.

After getting the thirty million from the Mumbai bank, Ron would return here and show the account deposit to the Uttar Pradesh bank.

The bank would see it and think, "Oh, it really is thirty million in cash."

"Then we can disburse the loan for this project, and we'll share the risk."

It was a very simple trick, and it would definitely work in India.

Because Indian states are highly independent, regional bank information is not interconnected.

Even stepping back, even in the computer age, it wouldn't be strange for this kind of thing to happen in India.

For this 100-million-rupee big business, Ron didn't spend a single penny of his own.

Was it because he had no money? Of course not; his private stash had other uses, and that really *was* his own money.

Ron planned to visit the limestone mine in Mirzapur soon, but before that, there was another matter to attend to.

The movie "In Praise of the Inaccessible Mother" was about to be released.