Chapter 333 Servant
The man in the coat shook the papers in his hand.
"We've already taken care of the police, the judges, and even the villagers. As long as your people are safe, we can rest easy."
"My man is fine, don't worry. He's part of the family and he's very obedient."
"That's good, that's good."
The man in the black coat stared at Barum and handed him a piece of paper.
"Can you read, man?"
"No, sir." Barum shook his head.
"Okay, I'll read it and you listen." The man in the coat took the paper back.
The content of the paper is roughly as follows:
statement
To those concerned:
I, Balum Nishad, son of Vikram Nishad, a native of Gapur village in Awadh district, hereby make the following declaration.
This statement is made by me freely and voluntarily. The statement is as follows:
On March 12th of this year, at noon, while maintaining former Chief Minister Yadav's helicopter at the rally site in Unnao, I accidentally damaged internal wiring. In my panic, I failed to carefully assess whether the severed wiring would affect the helicopter. In my panic, I failed to fulfill my obligation to promptly inform the helicopter team of the damage and instead quietly left the scene. Prior to the accident, no one else had touched the helicopter; I was the sole operator of maintenance. Therefore, I accept sole responsibility for the accident.
I hereby swear in the name of Almighty God that I have not been coerced by anyone to make this statement, nor have I been instructed by anyone.
Fingerprint location:
(Barum Nishad)
The following are witnesses to this statement:
Vikram Nishad, a resident of Garh village in Mirzapur district
Chamandas Varma, lawyer at the Lucknow High Court
There was no need for Satya to take action, as his cousin Lamar took the initiative to speak.
He asked Barum in a sincere tone, "I have already told your family about this. What was your father's name?"
“…”
"What was it? I didn't hear it clearly."
“…Hmm.”
"Yes, Vikram. I drove to Garh. It's a tough road, isn't it? I told him everything in person, and he was amazing."
Lamar touched his ears and grinned widely.
This action broke the last bit of luck that Barum had, and he knew that Lamar had not lied to him.
The action of touching the ears is a habitual behavior of his father.
"He said he was proud of you, and he agreed to bear witness to this confession. Look, here's his handprint, Barum, just below where you were to sign."
"If he can't read, he can still give his fingerprints," the man in the black coat said. "That's it." He stretched out his thumb and made a fingerprint gesture in the air.
"He can write his own name. His father told me he was the first in his family to do so. He said you always had sense, Barum."
Barum stared at the paper, pretending to read it again, but his hands began to shake involuntarily.
As a servant of the Yadav family, he knew this day would come, and such things were not uncommon in all of India.
Go to any big city, Lucknow or New Delhi, and ask any respectable, honest, middle-class person whether they have ever let their servants take the blame.
Just stare at that honest, reliable middle-class man, and you will see him shudder, see him swallow hard, see him look out the window, see him immediately change the subject.
The bars of the jails in North India's major cities are filled with servants who have taken the blame for the crimes of their honest and reliable middle-class masters.
Although servants like Barum have left the countryside, their masters still control everything about them, including their bodies, souls, and buttocks.
Yes, that's right, they live as servants in the greatest democracy in the world.
Balum remembered the slogan of the Socialist Party founded by his master, Yadav - "Equal Rights".
What a fucking joke!
Just a few days ago, he even shouted this slogan himself.
But what can he do? Won't his family protest? No, not only that, they will brag about it everywhere.
Look, our Balum took the blame for his master and was imprisoned in Tihar Jail. He is as loyal as a guard dog. What a good servant he is!
Judge? Can't they see that this confession was clearly coerced?
But they were also part of a circle, and they were happy to turn a blind eye to the obvious loopholes in the case after receiving bribes.
Life goes on as usual.
Except for the servant.
"Is there a problem, Barum?" Lamar asked.
"No problem, sir." He squatted there and smiled.
"So your legs are hurting?"
"Sir, I need to go to the bathroom."
Lamar looked up, and Satya didn't say anything, just nodded.
"Go ahead, do it right here, you are our family." Lamar took the initiative to lead the way for him.
Balum got up with difficulty and followed Yadav to the office bathroom.
It was so luxurious here that even the frame of the mirror was covered with gold foil.
He had been in and out of this office countless times, but had never used the bathroom here.
Thank God! He actually has the right to pee here today!
Barum turned on the faucet, his hands shaking. The water rushed to the bottom of the basin, splashing all over his legs.
He glanced down and saw that his legs were shaking so much that they were almost making a creaking sound.
No, that wasn't water, it was a stream of urine running down her thigh.
Dozens of lives, including the death of the Chief Minister, were taken by him alone.
He is dead, his life is over.
Although Barum was terrified, the thought of escaping never flashed through his mind, nor did the thought of "I want to tell the truth to the judge" flash through his mind.
He was trapped and couldn't get out.
What would prison be like? That was all Barum could think about. What strategies could he employ to avoid being bullied by those hairy, grimy, and burly men there?
He recalled a story he had heard before about a man who lied about having AIDS in prison to avoid being sodomized.
If only he had listened more carefully at that time, he could have repeated what the man said and did!
But if he said he had AIDS, would they assume he was a professional sodomite and then sodomize him even more?
Barum hid in the bathroom, feeling terrified that he had no way to escape his doom.
"Barum!"
"Sir!" he answered subconsciously.
"Do you feel sick in your stomach?"
"Yes, I'll be right there."
Barum composed himself and came out two minutes later with a bright smile on his face.
He pressed the hand seal, he had no choice.
The lives of all seventeen members of their family were in the hands of his most beloved master, Yadav.
This is the fate of Indian servants, always ready to sacrifice everything for their masters.
After receiving the statement with fingerprints, Satya also breathed a sigh of relief.
His brother's case was too big to be dealt with in a few words.
Someone must take the blame and cooperate without resistance.
Of course, if the Lucknow police consider it an accident, that’s fine too.
Just treat it as a rainy day preparation, it doesn’t matter whether you use it or not.
Satya decided to keep in touch with Sur after this storm had passed.
He believed that the Dalit woman would mess everything up.
Well, Satya guessed right.
As soon as Mayawati came to power, she started making money impatiently.
She even picked the biggest one as the fat sheep, without considering the friendship between them before.
"I must get half of the profits from this project!"
"What did you say?" Ron thought he had misheard.
"You didn't pay a penny for these mines, and you didn't even have to pay taxes. Shouldn't you give me some of it?" Mayawati argued.
"Madam Chief Minister, I need to remind you that we had discussed this beforehand."
"That's because you deceived me. You didn't tell me that Sonbhadra's mineral reserves are several times greater than Mirzapur's."
"The results of the survey just came out, and I just learned the news myself."
"That's why we should renegotiate. The previous agreement is no longer valid." Mayawati insisted.
"Are you sure you want to insist on this?" Ron looked at her.
"yes!"
Ron smiled.
"You know what? The last person who spoke to me like this was called Yadav."
"Who?" Mayawati paused.
"Yadav. Yes, the Yadav in the helicopter, your mortal enemy."
Mayawati shuddered involuntarily, a hint of fear flashing across her eyes.
"What do you want to say?"
"What can I say? After all, the decision lies with our beloved Madam Chief Minister."
Ron reached for the document on the table, but Mayawati held him back.
"Since you helped me before, I'll let it go this time. From now on, I have to take half of this kind of business!"
Ron tilted his head but said nothing.
Mayawati signed the document quickly, but she was still unwilling to give in.
She had heard about the endless profits of the Sur Cement Plant.
She thought that if she became the Chief Minister, all the businessmen in Uttar Pradesh would obey her.
But that was not the case, he even threatened himself.
"Oh, right," Ron turned around with the documents in his hand, "the government formed by the Popular Socialist Party is a multi-party coalition government, right?"
“I know you are manipulating the Progressive Party.”
"No, no, no," Ron shook his finger. "When necessary, I can also manipulate the BJP and other minority parties."
"You" Mayawati was stunned.
"Do you understand? The Popular Socialist Party can sit here because I didn't object. If you insist on breaking up our cooperation for that little profit, then I don't mind replacing you with someone else."
Ron turned around without paying any attention to Mayawati who was staring at him in amazement.
Of course, what he said was a bit exaggerated. The Socialist Party still has a mass base, especially when it was in power for the first time.
However, as long as the price paid is high enough and the money is spent, it is not impossible to make the BJP switch sides.
Alas, we still have to get our own white gloves, a coalition government or something, but there is too much uncertainty.
Ron needs time, and the Progressive Party also needs to expand slowly.
(End of this chapter)
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