I am a master in India

Chapter 74: Falling into a trap
Ron and Kaavia agreed to meet at the Montiga Café, which had a nice environment and was much more spacious than her cramped apartment.

Of course, Ron guessed that Kavya wasn't entirely confident in him. He was an Indian man, the kind of Indian man who wouldn't be surprised to do anything in the same room with a woman.

Allowing Ron upstairs last time was already a bold move on her part. This time, they had more to talk about and would stay longer, so a cafe seemed safer.

There were not many people in the Montiga Café. There were a few Arabs sitting in the corner, two cautious Asians sitting near the door, and the best window seat was occupied by a leisurely European.

When the stylish and beautiful Kavya came in, she unconsciously attracted most of the attention in the cafe. They rarely saw such a confident and beautiful Indian woman, even though this was the most developed and open commercial city in India.

"Hey, Ron." She walked over and hugged him naturally, with a smile on her face.

This is another unexpected move that most Indian women would not do.

Ron liked her and hugged her back warmly. Her thick, dark brown hair was tousled and slanted, her back was straight, and her eyes were clear.

When she hugged Ron, her fingers would touch his neck casually and kindly, softly and intoxicatingly.

"What are you busy with lately? Still writing your criminal record report?" Ron asked.

"Almost. How about you?"

"Busy committing crimes."

“You bad guy, would you do such a thing?” Kavya laughed.

"Nothing is impossible in India." Ron shrugged jokingly, then called the waiter and ordered two cups of coffee.

"That's true," she nodded. "Bribery isn't even a crime in India. Otherwise, I'd never be able to finish my crime stories."

"Well, don't worry about it. Even Indira Gandhi couldn't do anything about it, so what can you do?"

"I'm just heartbroken, Ron. You never know how much bribery goes on behind the scenes every day. Especially after getting to know some of the inside scoop, you really worry that this country will collapse one day."

Indira Gandhi was more of a dictator than her father, and even she was helpless against this phenomenon, let alone those who came after her.

Ron understood Kavya's feelings. She had just returned from studying abroad and aspired to become a journalist.

When you first encounter this kind of thing, you will feel heartbroken, but then you may become numb, and finally you may even get used to it.

Because bribery has become a part of Indian culture and no one is immune.

"Don't worry, India will not collapse. Even though at the beginning of independence, it was a country composed of countless small rebel groups.

But there is something that holds them together, maybe caste, or maybe culture, or affection, or something else. In short, it is not that fragile."

"Oh! Brother, this is a great sentence. I must write it down." Kavya took out the notepad she carried with her and started writing.

“Is this an interview?”

"You're lucky! This reporter's first interview is given to you, yaar."

The two looked at each other and then laughed.

"Honestly, bro, you don't look Indian at all. I've been abroad for a long time, you know, but you look more like someone who just returned home than I do."

"What can I say? Am I gifted? Or maybe I read too many books and was educated better by my parents?"

"You're right, you're the first person I've met who doesn't care about caste and yet comes from a Hindu family. I'm very curious." "I just respect everyone who works hard to make a living. Besides, I myself am more or less enjoying the conveniences brought by my high caste."

"That's what I like about you, brother." Kavya believed that the reason why Ron was liked by Dijan, Viraj, Hela, Mary and others was because he knew how to respect and was real.

"It's nice to hear you say that, but let's talk about today's meeting. I've been waiting for your call these past few days."

"You're such an unromantic bastard," Kavya said, grinning through her teeth. "It's all here, see for yourself."

She sorted out a lot of information, some of which were tofu cubes cut out from newspapers, some were handwritten notes, and some were even photocopied insider information.

Ron gave her a begging smile and then looked down at these things.

The content is very detailed, tracing back to the background of the establishment of Sharma Textile Mills. When India just gained independence, textile mills were the first manufacturing industry to develop in the country.

While the government provided food for hundreds of millions of people, the problem of clothing was left to the business community. Clothing required little technical skill, and the market was huge, attracting a large number of people to the clothing industry.

Just over a decade later, not only did garment factories proliferate, but upstream textile factories also began to proliferate. By the 1970s and 1980s, there were more than 200 textile factories in Mumbai alone.

Sharma's factory was probably born in that tide. After reaping the benefits for a few years, his factory developed rapidly and the workshop was expanded almost every year.

But the good times did not last long. With social changes, industrial adjustments in Mumbai, and increasingly fierce competition, the textile factories fell into a period of weakness after entering the 1980s.

But what really dealt a fatal blow to Mumbai's textile industry was the major strike in 82. The workers were dissatisfied with their meager wages, dirty working conditions, and bonuses that could be cancelled at any time, so they decided to join forces with the trade union to launch a protest.

They brought in the famous Samant, who had successfully organized a strike among auto industry workers, resulting in a significant wage increase.

That time they contacted nearly 65 workers in 25 textile factories in Mumbai and went on strike, hoping to increase bonuses and wages.

However, unlike the automobile industry, the textile factories in Mumbai at that time were already a sunset industry, and the upper-caste business owners were naturally unwilling to succumb to the demands of the lower-caste workers.

Therefore, even though the strike has caused severe economic losses to the economy and the industry, the factory owners and Samant are refusing to give in to each other.

Ultimately, the strike failed to achieve any results for the workers, plunging most into poverty and leaving over 15 workers unemployed.

The situation was even worse for textile factories. In just one year, more than 50 textile factories in Mumbai closed permanently, and the owners of those factories that did not go bankrupt also began to move their factories out of Mumbai.

Over the next decade, the situation continued to deteriorate, and Sharma Textile Mills, which was once among the top textile mills, finally collapsed this year.

By now, Ron knew he was in debt. Indian factories didn't have a legal entity anymore, so they couldn't just declare bankruptcy and walk away.

The bank will come to you to collect the debt, and the workers will also block you to collect the unpaid wages. According to Kavya's information, Sharma owes the bank at least 20 million rupees.

There's also half a year's salary for hundreds of workers, which is no small sum. This guy knows he's in big trouble, with the bank in front and the mafia behind him, so he's simply disappeared.

But he is still hiding in Bombay, and he will not leave here until he has completely squeezed the textile factories dry.

To Ron's surprise, from the information provided by Kavya, Sharma was in South Mumbai, even very close to them.

"Ron, you didn't expect this guy to come to our newspaper. He wants to place an advertisement in the newspaper and sell the land."

At this point, Kaavia couldn't help laughing, and then Ron started laughing too.

Man, you're making both of us look stupid by doing this.

(End of this chapter)