I'm a Master in India

Perhaps few people know that India has always defined itself as a "socialist" country in its constitution.

Before 1991, it implemented trade protectionism, namely a planned economy.

The government officially advocated full intervention in the labor and financial markets and regulated the commercial activities of various domestic industries.

However, the drastic changes in Eastern Europe, coupled with years of trade deficits, led India to encounter an unprecedented economic crisis in 1991.

At that time, the output value of domestic agriculture and industry was negative growth, and the annual GDP growth rate was 0.9%, which was considered the worst in history.

At the same time, the Indian government's foreign exchange reserves were only about 5 billion US dollars.

For a large country with a population of over 900 million, this amount of foreign exchange reserves was a drop in the bucket.

Therefore, the Indian authorities are now almost going crazy due to the lack of foreign exchange, not only the government but also the people.

Because of the tightening of foreign exchange controls, the people cannot exchange foreign currency at banks at all, but some companies must purchase various equipment and raw materials internationally.

Thus, where there is demand, there is a market.

With the tacit approval of the authorities, exchange shops of all sizes are secretly hidden in inconspicuous alleys in Mumbai.

After a period of development, everyone has agreed on this market, which is the so-called foreign exchange black market.

To reassure Smith, Ron explained the reasons for this high private exchange rate from India's economic environment and national conditions.

"Ron, you are indeed a knowledgeable gentleman."

Smith had never seen a guide who could explain his country's economic environment so thoroughly.

"I have a habit of reading, and I firmly believe that opportunities are hidden in this information."

"Good, then there is one last question left, is such private exchange safe?"

1:36 jumping directly to 1:45 is a 1.25 times relationship.

Even if Smith's wallet is thick, he has to be tempted.

It's just that the space for profit here is too large, so large that Smith feels a little unreal.

"Please don't worry, we have acquaintances.

If you are worried, sir, we will come forward to complete the transaction."

"OK, let's go."

Smith readily sat in the back row.

Ron and Anand in the front passenger seat smiled at each other, they both knew that they had made a big deal today.

Being a foreign currency exchange broker, the benefits here far exceed Smith's imagination.

He thinks the 1.25 times difference is exaggerated, but this is still Ron reporting it low.

Things are valued when they are scarce. More than ten years ago, the foreign exchange black market in Celestial Dynasty was even more exaggerated, with a difference of 5 times or 10 times.

Knowing that a large amount of extra money was about to enter his pocket, Anand stepped on the gas pedal very quickly.

In just a few minutes, they drilled into the nooks and crannies of a certain alley.

Seeing that the place where the car was driving was getting more and more remote, Smith seemed a little uneasy.

"Sir, there is usually a criterion for judging the quality of an exchange shop."

"What?"

Smith looked at Ron in the front row.

"The more exchange shops in prime locations, the less surprises there will be.

Only small shops that no one patronizes are most willing to attract customers with generous conditions."

Squeak!

With the harsh sound of brakes, Anand stopped the car in front of a small building.

From the outside, this looks like a trading company, with a billboard written in Hindi hanging on the wall on the roof.

The general meaning is that foreign exchange exchange business is undertaken here.

Ron looked at the back row, "Mr. Smith, would you like to go with me?"

This small building is too inconspicuous, and the house is also an old house.

From the dark corridor, Smith could even see fierce-looking men patrolling back and forth.

He rolled his throat uncomfortably, and finally moved his hand away from the car door handle.

"Here is 500 pounds, according to what was agreed, you have to bring back 22,500 rupees."

"Of course, please give it to me."

Ron smiled at him calmly.

Perhaps it was that composure that moved Smith, and he handed over the pounds in his hand.

After receiving the money, Ron put it in his pocket and opened the door and got out of the car without any hesitation.

The small building looks old on the outside, but it is well maintained inside.

The spiraling teak staircase is shiny, and there is no garbage on the ground.

When he got to the third floor, his feet softened, and the entire area here was covered with brown carpets.

Ron glanced around casually, the materials and workmanship of the room decoration were very exquisite.

This should be an old Western-style building left over from the British era, and it looks a bit old.

Without him greeting, a dark-skinned strong man came over.

"Anand sent me here."

The strong man raised his eyebrows, "Can you speak Marathi?"

"Of course, I have many friends who are Marathi."

"I like people who speak Marathi!"

The strong man showed a hearty smile, "Come with me."

Marathi is the local dialect of Maharashtra (referred to as Mabang), and less than 10% of the Indian population can speak this language.

But as India's city of fame, Mumbai has been promoting the popularization of Hindi.

Mabang has always resisted this, and there have been demonstrations for this reason.

So after hearing Ron's authentic Marathi, the strong man immediately felt cordial.

Soon he took Ron to a middle-aged man who looked quite imposing.

He looks to be in his fifties, with a thin and determined face, with a long nose and high cheekbones.

His beard and hair are shaved very short, but they are already gray.

While Ron was looking at him, the other party's eyes also carried scrutiny and a bit of coldness.

"Are you Mr. Sur?"

His voice was low, loud, and confident.

"Yes, I'm very glad to meet you, Anand has mentioned this place to me more than once."

The man nodded, "My name is Prakash Khade Khan."

Ron's heart skipped a beat, he always felt that this name was a bit familiar.

The memory may come from the predecessor, but it seems that the two sides have never had any intersection.

"I'm a little curious," Prakash Khade Khan didn't care about Ron's daze, "people named Sur usually don't appear here."

"Oh, something happened to my family, I need to find something to do to support myself."

They are both Indians, and they can judge each other's caste just by a surname, there is nothing to hide.

Most people of high caste have superior family backgrounds and rarely have anything to do with the foreign exchange black market, Ron had to explain this.

"I like self-reliant people, no matter how high or low their status is."

Prakash Khade Khan looked at Ron with a little more appreciation.

"Johnny, give him a good price according to the market conditions."

"Understood, Khade Bhai!"

"Bhai" means big brother in India, it is a kind and respectful word.

Ron gratefully got up and saluted him with his palms together, and the latter also smiled and nodded slowly.

Following Johnny, who was as strong as an ox, to the counter outside, the former explained a few words to the receptionist there, and then turned and left.

Prakash Khade Khan's identity seems to be very unusual, the things he explained were done here at the fastest speed.

After verifying the authenticity of the pounds Ron brought, the other party happily counted the money, then wrapped it in paper and handed it to him.

"Mr. Sur, 27,000 rupees, please count it."

Ron glanced at him in surprise, but the latter always maintained a smiling expression and didn't explain anything.

"Thank you Mr. Khade Khan for me."

He took the paper bag and glanced at it casually, then put it away.

This is almost the highest price in the black market, Ron's original estimate was that he could exchange for 24,000 rupees.

The extra part is considered his and Anand's commission.

After all, it is the black market, and they, as brokers, of course have to eat a part.

Although he was a little confused, Ron would not refuse such a benefit.

When he got to the aisle, he singled out 4,500 rupees and put it in his pocket.

He wrapped the rest in paper and went downstairs.

"Mr. Smith, please count it, here is 22,500 rupees."

"So fast?"

Smith was taken aback by the efficiency of the Indians.

This is a bit inconsistent with the international rumors. Indian efficiency is a well-known word.