Chapter 274 Thigh
"I haven't been home for a long time." Kavya is looking forward to this trip to the south.
"Actually, I'm more curious, why did you come all the way to Mumbai?"
"I went to university abroad, and Mumbai is the only place in India where I can feel that kind of freedom."
"Are your family members so confident that they let you run away alone?"
“Didn’t you also come to Mumbai alone?” Kavya retorted.
"That's different, I'm a man." Ron waved his hand.
“Hey, you’re discriminating,” Kavya said, patting his arm with a smile.
The two of them came out of the Madras airport chatting and laughing. This time Ron didn't bring too many people with him, and Kavya vowed that everything would be left to her.
Tamil Nadu is the southernmost state of India, with hot weather and close to the sea.
The rainy season is from June to September each year, and the rest of the time is accompanied by dry monsoons.
It is January now. New Delhi in the north is already freezing cold, but Madeira is so hot that people are sweating profusely.
As soon as Ron and Kaavia left the hall, they squinted their eyes because of the scorching sun.
"This is a great place for a winter vacation." Ron smiled and shrugged.
"You can come every year." Kavya glanced at him with a seductive look.
"If this goes well, maybe we can come here every year." Ron pretended not to understand.
"It will definitely go smoothly." Kavya was confident.
"So confident?"
She smiled without saying anything, but just took Ron to the roadside outside the airport.
There was a BMW sedan parked there, with a uniformed driver standing low-key beside it.
"Miss." When Kavya approached, he immediately came over and touched her feet.
"Let's go to my aunt." Kaavia waved her hand and pulled Ron into the car.
The driver clasped his hands together respectfully, then started the car without saying a word and drove towards the center of Madras.
This is a new BMW sedan, very valuable, almost as expensive as Ron's Mercedes-Benz.
He was a little surprised. He knew that Kavya came from a good family, but it seemed that his previous guess was still conservative.
Kaavia didn't care. She pointed out the window and introduced the local customs and culture to Ron.
Madras is the economic center of the South, but its temperament is very different from that of Bombay or Delhi.
This is also a large city with a population of over seven million. The climate is hot and humid, and the air is filled with unpleasant odors.
Well, the Indian subcontinent can never get rid of this taste, as if it was born this way.
However, the pace of Madras is much slower than that of Mumbai. The roads in the city center are not noisy at all, and there are low-rise buildings on both sides instead of the towering glass skyscrapers like those in New Delhi.
The living conditions of the locals are also different from those in other cities. Even the social elites dress ordinary, live frugally, and prefer to pursue spiritual things.
You rarely see people in strange costumes or high-profile sports cars whizzing by here. People prefer to go to concert halls to enjoy classical music.
Incidentally, the literacy rate in Tamil Nadu is higher than that in Gujarat, exceeding 70%.
Illiteracy is a minority here, and most people have received a complete primary or even secondary education.
Because of its education, Tamil Nadu is also the state in India where the caste system has the lowest presence.
People will still live in ethnic groups, and Brahmins will not intermarry with lower castes, but things like the careless killing of people in Uttar Pradesh will never happen.
You can see women chattering in the streets, and the people they talk to are men, men they meet on the street, not their husbands.
This is hard to imagine in North India, where women have to wear veils when going out and keep their eyes on the road when talking.
Ron thought that perhaps only with such an open atmosphere could a female international student like Kavya dare to go to Mumbai alone.
This place is really different from other places in India, and Ron felt a surge of vitality.
They got off the bus on a quiet avenue near the city center, shaded by trees whose leaves rustled in the wind.
The scorching sun left only mottled shadows on the ground, which was not threatening but added a bit of comfort.
"It's just ahead." Kavya pointed to a three-story building not far away.
"What is that place?"
"A place that can ensure that everything goes smoothly on your trip to Tamil."
As he got closer, Ron realized that the building was very exquisite, with many flags he didn't recognize hanging at the entrance.
The Greek-style columns and second-floor balcony reveal the characteristics of the colonial period, with graceful curvaceous fonts hung at the very top.
The All India Annadravida Marchal Khmer Rouge (AIADMK) headquarters.
"Oh!" Ron opened his mouth wide. "If I remember correctly, this is one of the two major political parties in Tamil Nadu."
"It seems you have done some homework." Kavya smiled with satisfaction.
Over the past few decades, the political landscape in southern India's Tamil subcontinent has been dominated by two political parties, one of which is the AIADMK.
The other is called Dravidian Progressive Union (DMK), and their names are very similar.
The fact is that AIADMK split from DMK and its founder Ramachandran was originally a loyal member of DMK.
However, due to differences in governance, he broke away from the DMK and joined the AIADMK, which specifically opposed it.
Ramachandran was the most famous Tamil actor at the time and had a strong appeal among the people, but he died in the 1980s.
When Ron and his friends arrived at the door, they were quickly attracted by the small golden statue in the front yard. It was the founder Ramachandran.
He was wearing a hat and thick glasses, with one hand raised in a V-sign for victory.
However, he has been completely overshadowed by the party's current soul Jayaram Jayalita, who is now the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu.
There are four giant billboards in the forecourt with Jayalita's face looking down solemnly, one of which is almost as tall as the building.
"Wait, could this be the aunt you're talking about?" Ron stared at the poster in a daze.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Kavya winked. “I’m from an Iyengar family in Tamil Nadu.”
"Of course I know your last name, but..." Ron didn't know what to say.
Iyengar is a Brahmin caste, and it is a very ancient Brahmin caste in Tamil Nadu, which is said to have been passed down for more than a dozen centuries.
But he didn't expect that the Kavya family had such a close relationship with the soul figure of the local ruling party.
Ron didn't understand the political situation in Tamil Nadu, but just by looking at the style, he knew that his aunt had extraordinary influence in the local area.
Why? You only need to look slightly away from the building in front of you and out onto the street to see the answer.
There are thousands of her brightly colored posters at intersections, bus stops, and overpasses.
Stalls outside the headquarters are selling all sorts of souvenirs for AIADMK supporters, including gold-framed portraits and postcards of Jayalalithaa, as well as brightly colored rugs and chair covers with her face printed on them.
Kavya said his aunt was a Tamil film star before she entered politics and was very attractive in her youth. There are photos of her from that period on the souvenir shelves.
Either they look at the camera in a charming manner, or they put their hands on their chins and look at the nearby scenery with a smile on their faces.
But most souvenirs depict her in her older self, with a serious expression, wearing a traditional sari, a double chin, a red dot on her forehead, and her long black hair tied in a dignified bun.
Without exception, these posters or souvenirs are printed with the word "Amma", which is the Tamil people's respectful name for her.
Do you think that's all? No, look further afield.
The streets are dotted with aunties' restaurants, where workers can buy breakfast at deep discounts, buying a steamed rice cake or a bowl of rice and lentil porridge for a rupee.
In addition to restaurants, there are also aunt stalls where you can buy low-priced vegetables. The bottled water and cement bags on the shelves are printed with aunt portraits.
This frenzied political propaganda permeates every aspect of life, from discount stores to cinemas to salt shops and tea shops.
At first Ron was wondering who this "Ama" was, but the answer was revealed after he arrived at the AIADMK headquarters.
With such comprehensive and all-encompassing propaganda, even Arab dictators would probably feel inferior.
But this is an old tradition of Indian politicians, who can't wait to post their own pictures everywhere.
A more beautified term for it is political propaganda, and to put it bluntly is personality cult.
The lower class people in India just believe this, basic stuff.
Even in Ron's own cement factory, there are posters of his portrait everywhere, with the main message being "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"My aunt takes this kind of profile picture publicity very seriously. You know, she is a movie star." Kavya took his hand and walked inside.
"A very effective way of spreading information." Ron nodded.
"You think so, right? She was very smart and loved reading since she was little. After entering the entertainment industry, she met many people, including Ramachandra."
Having said this, Kavya quietly shut up. Well, the rest of the content should not be disclosed.
Her aunt later became Ramachandra's lover, or mistress.
In that era, it was shocking for a Brahmin to be someone's lover.
Ramachandra entered politics and she followed his footsteps and entered politics.
After his death, Jayalalithaa and his widow successfully inherited his political legacy after a fierce public battle.
Look, the headquarters before you is proof.
Everyone here seemed to know Kavia. The armed guards at the door and the staff coming and going ignored them and even saluted from a distance.
Although her aunt Jayalalithaa's portrait is posted all over the city, she usually stays at home and rarely appears in public.
Her office is at the top, a very spacious and independent office.
She held the newspaper in her hand and lowered her head to read as Kavya knocked on the door and entered.
Jayalalithaa is indeed not tall, but her skin is very white, which contrasts sharply with the dark-skinned natives of Tamil Nadu.
Ironically, the original intention of the AIADMK party was to oppose the monopoly of power by the upper castes, but now its leader is a female Brahmin.
"Kaviya?" Jayalalithaa looked at the door in surprise.
"Auntie." Kavya, who has always been independent, threw herself into the other's arms like a little girl.
"What's so good about Mumbai? You just won't listen. By the way, is this guy your boyfriend?"
Ah this, Ron smiled awkwardly but politely.
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
