Batra Express

In an Indian town of the 1970s the streets are crowded, always crowded, with bicycle bells ringing and vendors shouting and old buses groaning their way forward while the air itself is thick with the mingled scents of petrol and chai. Cows stand unmoved in the middle of it all and sometimes, just sometimes, an elephant passes through as though to remind the town of another age.

This is where you begin. Your task is to build a delivery firm and to send your couriers scurrying with goods of every kind, goods that never end: hens and pigs and sacks of rice and shoes and furniture and even instruments whose music rises above the traffic. You must be quick, you must be clever, you must choose wisely where to invest and when.

The one who moves with greatest skill, who balances speed with cunning investment, will gather the most rupees, and in this city of endless errands that is the measure of victory.