Chapter 434 Planning
The Congress party is already campaigning for the general election in four months by promising voters that it will heed the Sri Krishna inquiry's recommendations to take action against the Shiv Sena.
Sri Krishna's report listed the names of 31 police officers, accusing them of indiscriminate killings or obvious misconduct, such as assisting or directly participating in the Mumbai riots.
Of the 31 people, 17 were formally charged in 1995. However, as of today, none has stood trial, and 10 of them have received salary increases and promotions.
Participants in the riots were prosecuted for violating the Terrorism and Disruptive Activities Act, an act often labeled "draconian" by the media.
Even so, a total of 2,267 cases were filed for appeal over the past seven years, 60% of which were closed by the prosecution due to "insufficient evidence."
The rest were not sentenced, only the accusation record was made.
As of last year, 853 cases were still pending.
42 cases went to trial: 30 were acquitted, 3 were dismissed, and 8 were convicted on charges of disturbing the peace.
It's so ridiculous. Indian laws are very mysterious.
However, when Mumbai was a victim, it deployed its most elite police force and focused on the case, so the mastermind of the "September 3" serial bombings was either arrested or fled the country.
Because the perpetrators of the bombings were herders and the victims were Hindus.
On the other hand, while they were the perpetrators of violence and caused more deaths, Mumbai allowed their masterminds to maintain their seats in the municipal and even parliamentary seats.
"The nearly decade-long impunity enjoyed by the perpetrators of the Mumbai riots sends a deeply disturbing message to the nation and shatters public confidence in the administration of justice," the Congress party concluded.
Bal Thackeray was charged with fourteen charges, of which the Shiv Sena government managed to drop thirteen.
The only accusation that remains is that Thackeray used the editorials of the Anti-government newspaper to incite anti-pastoral sentiment among the people during the riots.
This was the least serious of the fourteen charges and was fortunately retained.
If this happened in the United States, there would probably be human rights fighters who were unaware of the situation and actively defended Thackeray.
The current leader of the Congress in Maharashtra is Bhujbal, who was earlier a Shiv Sena but defected to the Congress camp.
Now, the strong contender for the general election is determined to detain the former leader, even for an hour.
Bhujbal said that if he came to power, he would implement at least one recommendation of the Sri Krishna report: arrest the Shiv Sena leaders.
In order to quell these public opinions, the Shiv Sena has been busy putting out fires everywhere during this period.
Many leaders were even ready to go to war.
The city of Mumbai is indeed full of one crisis after another.
Ron didn't want to get involved in these dirty things, so he went to Goa to inspect his steel plant.
After more than half a year of rectification, the place has been almost completely taken over.
He also brought Devaram along, with the intention of allowing the Progressive Party to take root in Goa.
This state is very small. If managed well, maybe we can turn it into our own backyard.
Devaram attached great importance to the task assigned to him by Ron. He came from a grassroots background and it was easy for him to get along with the masses.
After arriving in Goa, the first place he visited was the village near the steel plant.
If the Progressive Party wants to take root here, it first needs to gain the recognition of local residents. The workers in the steel plant are relatively easy to convince.
After a brief tour, Devaram felt that Kusir Village could neither be called a new village nor an old village.
Where the highway divides the old and new worlds, the market and steel mills are on one side of the highway, while most of the homes and farmland are on the other.
Most of the houses in the village are simple little cement houses. Some of them have been uninhabited for a long time, and the corners of the houses are covered with spider webs and beetles.
But in the morning the village of Kusel is a pleasant, pastoral place.
Looking into the distance, you can see fields and gathering places of the Lambada people.
Lambada women are very independent and have distinctive styles of dress. They always walk ahead of their husbands and like to wear bright shirts and lots of jewelry.
This is interesting, as Devaram believes the Progressive Party should look for breakthroughs from these women.
Unfortunately, this kind of rural life is disappearing and now there are factories everywhere.
Much of the area between the city and the airport has been bought up by real estate developers who hope to profit as the city expands.
Now, it is only a matter of time before the locals are completely evicted from their land.
A small number of workers also live in the village and have to cross the highway to go to work every day.
After crossing the road and walking for another ten minutes, you will reach the market of Kusel Village.
The market runs along a road that was the main thoroughfare until it was replaced by a new highway.
The market, a grimy, dusty place in the heart of the village of Kusel, features stalls selling vegetables, fruit, medicine, and pints of cheap whiskey.
Around the market are a number of concrete buildings scattered haphazardly in the area, housing a poultry farm, a jewelry store that also serves as a shelf space, and three restaurants.
Devaram's breakfast and lunch were eaten at one of these restaurants. They were very cheap and consisted mostly of potatoes and a spicy Indian dish.
The waiters in the restaurant were mostly teenage boys, and the tired-looking workers and farmers were wolfing down their food in the restaurant.
This picture of backwardness and barbarism makes Devaram feel very familiar, as it is very similar to Uttar Pradesh.
When it comes to mobilizing politics among the masses, he is very experienced.
However, Devaram was not in a hurry to implement it immediately. He still needed to learn more about this place.
He likes this way of mingling with the world and living a carefree life.
The place where Devaram went to eat today is called Dhaba, a kind of restaurant located on both sides of the India and Babayang highways.
It offers dishes from both countries and is very popular here.
The shadow of the Kargil War seemed to have had no impact on this quiet suburb. People were indifferent and just focused on their daily lives.
Devaram quickly found the spot, hidden behind a row of trucks parked on the roadside, near a factory that produced steel pipes.
This restaurant is known by different names, either Biwani Dhaba or Vejja Family Dhaba, depending on which sign you pronounce the name on.
There is a row of cement houses on the edge of a grassy patch, with curtains hanging on the doors, as if hinting something to people.
Occasionally, a man would come out with his trousers lifted up, yawning and spitting thick phlegm onto the grass at his feet.
Then they crossed the dilapidated road in groups of three or four and went to the restaurant to have a bite to eat.
There is a foyer at the back of the house with plastic tables and chairs.
There are never many customers in Dehaba Restaurant, but when there are customers, they often choose to sit in the private rooms.
The guests are often a group of rugged-looking local businessmen who sit around drinking whiskey and eating clay-oven roasted chicken.
Devaram sat among the sparse guests, concentrating on savoring his hot and sour potatoes.
Suddenly, I heard a burst of excited whispers.
"That big boss doesn't come here at all, so there's a lot of room for maneuver!"
"But...but that's Mr. Soul. Are you sure there's nothing wrong with us doing this?"
"What's the problem? It's just forming a union. It's legal. We are fighting for the interests of workers!"
"As the previous factory owners, every time we wanted to organize a strike, the police would come to disrupt us. Now that the big boss is gone, there is definitely no one watching us anymore," a voice said with certainty.
"It's really strange that there are bosses who don't come to inspect the factory for several months."
"Those big guys have too much business to handle. But this is just right; it gives us an opportunity."
"That's right. Only by organizing a strike can we demand a wage increase. The union headquarters in New Delhi will support us."
"Is this really okay? The Sur Steel Plant just adjusted its wages not long ago, and Manager Nambiya also promised that we would build new dormitories..." The timid voice sounded again.
"Idiot! Do you think your salary is too high? They owe us this. Think about how ruthlessly that factory owner has exploited us over the years. These bigwigs are all the same.
This guy named Suhr is a stickler for rules, which is great. What reason does he have to stop us from forming a union?
We are just following the rules. We need to keep an eye on the Malda workers and make sure they don't disrupt our strike."
"Right! Only if we go on strike will those big bosses realize how powerful we are and they will surrender!"
Tsk tsk, Devaram beside him shook his head as he listened.
He used to be a restless person and even organized strikes and marches himself.
He never expected that one day, others would discuss a strike in front of him, and the target of the strike would be his own boss.
What a fate, Devaram sipped his whiskey.
He waited until those rough-looking workers left before waving to the distance.
The three or four boy waiters in the restaurant were busy as if they would never stop.
It was only when he saw the ten rupees between Devaram’s fingers that he flew towards her as fast as a swallow.
"What do you need, sir?"
"Where are those guys at that table from?"
"It's from the Lambada tribe."
"Live nearby?"
“Yes, they are locals.”
"Where are the Malda laborers?"
"Oh, they're a bunch of desperate scoundrels."
"Where can I find them?"
"The dirtiest part of town."
Devaram waved and sat in the foyer, watching the raindrops fall on the highway.
The sparse raindrops indicate that the South Asian monsoon is very weak this year. The rain takes away the heat in the air, but also adds to the desolation of the place.
This place is neither a city, nor a town or a village. Every evening by nine or ten o'clock, the entire market is often empty, except for the occasional drunk who wanders here.
But there was a constant stream of vehicles on the nearby highway, and there was an orange sign on the road that read "No Drinking and Driving".
In this world, there are no women and children, only cold and tired men.
They work non-stop, not knowing why they are busy.
Devaram stood up. He had to talk to Mr. Sur.
(End of this chapter)
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