I'm a Master in India

Ron Sull, CEO of Mumbai Tourist Information Company.

The customs officer sized him up, a tall man with fair skin and gray eyes, his light blue shirt clean and neat, his dress pants and leather shoes also meticulously groomed.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" He took the business card and habitually stretched his neck.

"Actually, I'd like to learn about the airport's investment promotion policies."

"What?"

"See those restaurants and handicraft shops over there? I want to open a tourist reception company here, just like I did at Victoria Terminus."

"Tourist reception company? Victoria Terminus?"

"That's right, this is my second branch, and in the future, it will be all over India!"

Wow, that's quite a tone. The customs officer glanced at the business card in his hand again, the expression on his face somewhat relaxing.

"So, you're looking for me..."

"I'd like to meet the person in charge here, perhaps you could help?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Please."

"Your surname, Sull..."

"It's derived from the sun god, Surya."

"Then there's no problem." A warm smile appeared on the customs officer's face.

"Oh, thank you, but why?" Ron was a little confused.

"I'm from Odisha. The Konark Sun Temple is just north of Puri. When I was a child, my family and I often went there to pray."

"Wow!" Ron's eyes widened. "Look, we're brothers."

"That's right, brothers!" The customs officer affectionately put his arm around his shoulder.

The two were like old friends who had been separated for many years and suddenly reunited, enthusiastically embracing and lightly patting each other's shoulders.

"What do you think about what I just said?"

"Leave it to me. The director of the administrative office here, Singh, is an old friend of mine."

"That's great, brother!" Ron inconspicuously slipped a few American dollars into his pocket.

The green color was pleasing to the eye. The customs officer's neck swiveled even faster.

"Let's have a meal together on the next sunny day."

"No problem, I'll wait for your call."

They shook hands and said goodbye, but after taking only a few steps, Ron turned around again.

"By the way, brother, I still don't know your name?"

"Harry Chopra, just call me Harry."

"Okay, Brother Harry."

The two waved goodbye again, smiled, and then tilted their heads, their synchronization rate surprisingly high.

Damn, religion is a magical thing; things went smoother than Ron imagined.

Just because they were close to the same god, Harry had readily agreed to connect him.

Tsk, how to say it, it's just magical. Ron couldn't guess even a little bit about the thought process of these Indians.

But one thing was certain: the surname Chopra meant warrior, representing the Kshatriya caste, second only to the Brahmins.

Just like the others here, the men wore hard leather shoes and suits, and the women wore expensive silk clothes.

They looked high-spirited and unsmiling, busily running in and out of the office building, their expressions serious.

The post-rain sunshine shone on the airline offices and other businesses' polished glass and brass facades, while outside the separating iron railings were roadside vendors in tattered clothes and covered in sweat.

In Mumbai, it is common for a street to separate two worlds, coexisting peacefully and without intrusion, yet unexpectedly harmonious.

Mumbai's rainy season may last for several more weeks, and the torrential downpours have almost plunged the entire South Mumbai into mud.

News reported that a slum had been flooded again, and the Gateway of India was now directly connected to the Arabian Sea due to rising water levels.

Even though the Fort area where Ron was located had good infrastructure, the cobblestone road in front of the door was no longer beautiful, and it was common for rainwater to be above ankle-deep.

Due to the continuous heavy rain, the business of Mumbai Tourist Information Company also plummeted. Even many trains at Victoria Terminus had stopped operating due to water problems.

Ron, who had nothing to do, was now in the company's office in the Fort area checking accounts. A week ago, he had hired three clerks and an accountant for the company.

"Have the payments from Appy LS Hotel and Asian Star Hotel arrived yet?"

"Yes, but they are a bit dissatisfied with the current commission, because we are bringing them fewer tourists than before," replied the new accountant, Harish.

Ron waved his hand indifferently, "Tell them that the peak tourist season is after the rainy season, and we are already the largest tourist reception company in Mumbai."

This kind of wrangling was not the first time; Ron's business was dismal, and those hotels and restaurants were not doing well either.

Previously, his company's monthly profit easily exceeded 700,000 rupees, but now it had been cut in half. If the heavy rain in September didn't stop, the situation would only get worse.

"How many people are still working at Victoria Terminus?"

"Less than 20. The others have either returned to their hometowns, or the roofs of their houses in the slums are leaking, so they can't come out to work for the time being."

"Pay the wages on a daily basis. If anyone urgently needs money, settle their accounts in advance for them."

"Yes, Mr. Sull." The accountant, Harish, looked at him in surprise, and hesitated to speak.

"What's wrong?" Ron glanced at him.

"You are a good person, boss."

"Tch ~" Ron scoffed.

"Really, I have never seen a boss who proactively pays employees their salaries. You know, no one cares about those Dalits."

"Whoever earns profits for the company, I will pay their salary, it's that simple. Okay, make the recent accounts into a report, I want to see how long we can last."

Was he a good boss? Ron himself didn't know the answer. There was a cruel fact in front of him: the entire Mumbai Tourist Information Company only had himself as a formal employee.

Yes, when busy, dozens of people made a living under him, but the only contract worker actually registered was Ron himself.

Everyone else, including the accountant Harish, as well as the three clerks and Anand and the others, were just outsourced personnel or temporary workers.

The reason Ron did this was because India had what could be called the strictest labor laws in the world.

That is, Indian companies basically cannot dismiss any employee, even if they are frequently absent from work.

No reason, this is the law, and it has the strong support of the government and the general public.

Once, a textile company in Mumbai fired a drunkard who was often absent from work. As a result, the other party filed a lawsuit, and it took the textile company 15 years and a lot of manpower to win that lawsuit.

Such high costs forced most companies in India to adopt outsourcing to avoid the sanctions of labor laws.

Ron was also afraid, those Indians had a lot of crazy operations. Especially the local guides who frequented the streets, if someone was determined to freeload off him, Ron really wouldn't have any good way to deal with it for a while.

So, the safest way was to be like everyone else, all temporary workers, and he himself was just a commander-in-chief.

Strangely, so far, no one had objected, they were already used to this approach.

However, Anand and the others were not interested in becoming formal employees. When they encountered this kind of rainy season, they could leave Ron without any burden to earn other income.

For example, to help wealthy families dredge sewers, or help them clean clogged toilets. These people from the bottom have their own way of survival in any season.

Letting them sit all day at Victoria Terminus, but only earning a dozen rupees, maybe some people wouldn't even be happy.

In short, everyone's ideas were strange, and Ron simply lay flat and let it be.

If they came to work for a day, he would give them the most basic salary, if they didn't come, then there was none.

"Ron, look what I brought you?"

Mary, holding an umbrella, trotted in from outside, with a magazine tightly held in her arms.

"《Lonely Planet》?" Ron's eyes lit up.

The bad luck brought by the rainy season that had lasted for more than a month seemed to be finally leaving.