I'm a Master in India

“Ron, you've been in Mumbai for almost two years, but you don't understand the real Mumbai.”

“The real Mumbai?”

“One hundred percent real!” Anand assured him, “If you haven't been to the slums, you haven't been to Mumbai.”

“But I used to live right next to the slums, you know, I even visited your house.”

“Are you talking about that place? Where you lived is long gone.”

Ron turned his head, the apartment building he once knew was now a pile of rubble. The market downstairs was also gone, only the disposable ceramic milk tea cups piled on the roadside proved that it had once been bustling.

“What happened?” He stared in disbelief at the scene before him.

“It collapsed during the rainy season, didn't your little maid tell you? I ran into her the last time she hurried past here.”

“Wait, who are you talking about as a maid?” Mary, who was following behind, stared intently at Ron.

“Uh, Niya, she's been taking care of my daily life. She's very young, only a teenager.” Ron explained guiltily.

“So you like them young?”

“No, I think you misunderstood, it's not what you think.”

“Lena will be interested in this news.” Mary gave him a knowing look.

“Good heavens, you know my initial performance that night, you even laughed at me for being a greenhorn.” Ron suddenly shut up.

He glanced to the side, Anand was listening with great interest. Seeing Ron's gaze, he immediately walked ahead to lead the way.

“We're here! The Grant Road slums are just ahead.”

This area of land seemed very contradictory, it had two distinctly different sections. To the left of the road were the ruins of Ron's collapsed apartment building and the slums where Anand lived.

To the right were modern, huge, air-conditioned commercial buildings. The first to third floors were lined with shops selling jewelry, silks, carpets, and exquisite handicrafts.

They were only separated by a road, the slums had no electricity, no running water, no sanitary facilities, while on the other side, there were neon lights, colorful fountains, and speeding sports cars.

Extremely awkward, yet everyone was at ease.

“Today's lunch isn't at my house, it's being held somewhere else. So, let's go directly there.”

Ron took a distant look at Anand's old house, which had undergone a great change. Not only had it been renovated, but several new houses had been built next to it.

“Doesn't the city hall care? I mean, they've long claimed to curb the expansion of slums, your house...”

“It's okay, Ron.” Anand waved his head indifferently, “No one cares, at least no one has cared for years.”

He was very certain and very happy that Ron noticed the changes to his house, his tone full of pride.

“Be careful from now on, especially Miss Mary, watch your step.”

This slum stretched for 40,000 square meters, with 7,000 shacks. Near the entrance, there was an open-air latrine, hidden behind tall grass, with reed mats as walls.

The toilet was so stinky that it almost covered up other smells. It was like feces that had been exposed to the sun for a long time, and then suddenly someone peeled back the surface.

Ron felt suffocated, suffocated to the point of wanting to vomit. He forcefully suppressed his nausea and glanced at Mary, whose face was pale.

“You'll get used to it.” Anand's smile dimmed, this was the first time Ron had seen something like pessimism and doubt in his smile.

“Look, you two,” he lowered the corners of his mouth, his smile becoming stiff and embarrassed, “see how people live here.”

After passing those latrines and walking into the first alley between the shacks, a gust of wind blew from the arc-shaped coast on the edge of the slums.

The air was humid and hot, but the sea breeze blew away the nauseating stench of the toilet, replaced by the smell of spices, cooking smoke, and tea.

Taking a closer look at those shacks, they were extremely simple. Plastic sheeting, cardboard, and thin bamboo poles were the building materials, with hanging reed mats as walls, built on bare earth.

Because the rainy season had just passed not long ago, many alleys were still muddy. The edges of the reed mat walls were piled with garbage brought by the rain, and someone was cleaning it up, but it was very slow.

Anand led Ron and Mary through the narrow alleys filled with rags and plastic. The news of foreigners coming had spread in the slums.

A large group of children surrounded Ron and Mary, they were very close, but did not reach out to touch them.

Ron was carrying two bottles of whiskey, and Mary was carrying some small things like candy and pencils.

They had come to attend a feast, and suddenly being surrounded by so many children, both of them were a little at a loss.

The children were mainly curious about Mary, foreign women rarely came to the slums. Many of the children had never seen a foreign woman here in their lives.

Their eyes were wide open, and surprise and excitement almost spilled out of their pupils. When Ron and the others approached, the children suddenly burst into nervous laughter, or jumped up and down in unstructured impromptu dances.

People came out of every shack and stood at the door, first dozens of people, then hundreds of people. The dense faces made Ron and Mary feel tense.

Until a tall and thin old man walked out of the crowd, he waved a short wooden stick with copper ends in his hand, and the crowd gradually dispersed.

“Tajji Ali, our leader.” Anand eagerly introduced the old man in front of him to Ron and Mary.

He had silver-white hair and a beard, and wore a white shirt, white pants, and sandals. He didn't look like a slum dweller at all, his resolute face reminded Ron of another person, Prak Hartehaan.

Yes, they had a similar temperament, calm, wise, and bright eyes.

“Anand said you would come.” There was a hint of surprise in his eyes as he looked at Ron.

“He is my friend, he asked me to come, so I came.”

“Yes! We are friends!” Anand announced loudly and proudly, the bright smile returning to his face again.

“Good, you are our guests, the slums welcome you.” Tajji Ali's wrinkled face showed a warm smile.

This seemed to be some kind of signal, and the people who were still gathered here and hadn't dispersed also showed smiles.

“Anand and the others have prepared lunch for you, not here, but in Sky Village.”

“Sky Village?” Ron asked curiously.

“Yes, go ahead. I'm old, I can't go.”

Tajji Ali seemed to have come over just to say hello, and now he left again.

“Let's go, Ron. And Miss Mary, the banquet is about to begin.” Anand excitedly led the way.

“Ron, they seem very welcoming to you, a specially prepared lunch banquet?” Mary asked softly from behind.

“This will be a very great lunch!” Anand turned his head in front, “I'm waiting with an empty stomach, just waiting to eat a big meal. The food is so delicious, you eat so happily, others will think you are pregnant with a big belly.”

“Okay,” Mary glanced at Ron, “your partner is really persuasive.”

“He's always like this.” Ron shrugged resignedly.

Anand proudly puffed out his chest, happily shaking his head from side to side.

“Speaking of which, where exactly is Sky Village?”

“I want to know too.”

“You would never guess, but I bet you'll definitely like it there.”

In fact, Sky Village was not in the slums. It was outside, close to the other side of the slums.

When they arrived at its feet, Ron and Mary opened their mouths in surprise.