Dongri to Dubai (18 page)

Arun Gulab Ahir was Rama Naik’s senior in school. They went to the same Municipal School in Bakri Adda in Byculla. Rama, however, dropped out of the school in the seventh standard. They maintained their alliance, and what was surprising was that though Gawli was the older boy, Rama Naik was the dominant one of the two and the decision-maker. Gawli looked up in deference to him and held his judgment in high regard.

Arun came from very humble beginnings. If there was a die that cast future dons, it seemed to have missed him. The Gawli family belonged to Khandwa in Madhya Pradesh, and came from the traditional clan of shepherds or
gawlis
, thus lending them their titular surname, Gawli.

He had four brothers and two sisters. His father Gulab worked with Simplex mills and his mother was also a mill hand. His first job was at a mill too. He found employment with the Shakti Mills in Mahalakshmi when he was only a little more than 20 years old. Lacking special skills, he later drifted to the dye-casting department at Godrej and Boyce, Vikhroli. In fact this was where he first tasted blood, by scoring a victory over his first opponent Bala Mapankar, a representative of the Shiv Sena in the union, who was upstaged by Gawli. He then moved on to Crompton Greaves Ltd. in Kanjur Marg. This is where he began to spend time with Rama Naik and Bablya Sawant. This is also the time when he encountered Sadashiv Pavle alias Sada Mama, who later went on to become the second-in-command in Gawli’s gang.

Babu Reshim was the leader of the canteen workers of the Mazgaon docks. He lived in the same region that Rama and Gawli operated from and gravitated towards them. The two continued to be involved in skirmishes regularly with the various factions operating in Byculla, and the turning point in their lives came with the arrival of the Emergency. In 1975, Rama Naik was arrested under MISA. While in jail, he made contact with Varadarajan Mudaliar alias Varda Bhai, and they got along so well that Naik felt bold enough to recommend an alliance to Varda Bhai. He told him, ‘
Kuch kaam ho toh bolo
[let me know if there’s any work that is to be done].’

Varda on the other hand was impressed by this boy. Rama Naik was not exceptional to look at in terms of size, but the conviction with which he spoke convinced an individual of his competency. From the look he had in his eyes, no one would ever doubt that the work assigned to him would be completed with authority and finesse. And as the kings of yore used to honour and shower maestros with their largesse, so did Varda. He began recommending Rama, Arun, and Babu to everyone as competent persons. Thus under the able aegis of Rama Naik, the alliance gained in strength and public opinion.

But where things stood at that point, Rama Naik, Arun Gawli, and Babu Reshim had cemented their position with the murder of Pandey. Closing a number of
matka
businesses, they had broken the back of the
matka
and liquor trade—a task that the police and state had not managed to accomplish.

Following the murder of Pandey, Gawli was detained under the NSA. But surprisingly, he was released within a month of custody. Those were treacherous times. Dissenters languished in jails for months and here a known local criminal had been released within a month. Surely there was something to this, thought the locals of Byculla. Everyone thought it was his clout and his power as a don that got him out of custody early. Gawli, of course, made no bones about exploiting this misconception to his advantage. He strutted around, knowing fully well that his power had nothing to do with his release. As soon as he came back to Dagdi Chawl, he built a minaret in the area and had a board nailed to it that would herald a new time. The board said ‘B.R.A. Company’, ‘B’ for Babu Reshim, ‘R’ for Rama Naik, and ‘A’ for Arun Gawli.

His power and influence increased several fold post his return from jail. He decided it was now time to find his lieutenant and partner, someone who would hold fort in his home and keep his hearth warm. He found such a person in Zubeida Mujawar, who lived in the same area as Gawli. She belonged to Wadgaon in Pune. Zubeida’s marriage had already been arranged with a boy from within the Muslim community but when Arun Gawli asked the family of Zubeida Mujawar, they could not refuse and so there was a match.

Rama Naik and Babu Reshim, however, opposed the alliance on communal grounds. They could not believe that Arun Gawli was marrying a Muslim girl, but he remained adamant and insisted on marrying Zubeida. After the marriage was solemnised, elaborate rituals were conducted to ‘convert’ Zubeida to Hinduism. In an attempt to wipe out her Muslim identity, her name was changed from Zubeida to Asha. He had truly found an ally in her, as she often held the fort while he was in and out of prison.

18

Pathan Menace

K
arim Lala and Jangrez Khan were good friends; Lala came from Peshawar and Jangrez had his roots in Swat village in Afghanistan. Lala had managed to amass a huge fortune and began to have clout in south Mumbai by this time. His friendship with Mastan made him a stronger ganglord in every manner. It was the early seventies.

This alliance and the rise of Lala, a Pathan by origin, had bolstered the arrogance and nonchalance of the Pathan gang. They had heard the stories of the valour of their ancestors, the famous warrior Pathans of old, and how for the sake of honour, they would go to any length and defy even the kings of their time. This mindfulness of ancient legend had made the Pathans totally heedless of the law of the modern land. Street brawls, violence, eviction of tenants, smashing shops, and breaking bones in public had become routine for them. The Pathan menace was growing unabated and the cops seemed to be totally clueless when it came to controlling this multi-headed hydra, which dealt with everything from extortions to hits to helping settle disputes.

One of these disputes was that between Haji Mastan and his long-time partner Yusuf Patel. Finally, Mastan decided to teach him a lesson and declared a contract on him. The
supari
was given to the Pathan mafia.

The term
supari
comes from an old story of kings and warriors. It means ‘betel nut’ in Hindi. According to folklore, the King of Mahim province in Bombay, Bhim, who was also the chieftain of his Mahemi tribe, used an interesting ritual when he was deciding how and who to assign a difficult task. He would call for a general meeting at his Mahim fort and huge pandals were erected. Select warriors and bravemen would be asked to participate in the royal feast. Once the feast was over and the warrior tribesmen were satiated, a huge
thal
(plate) was placed right in the middle of the gathering. The
thal
had betel leaves,
supari
s, and some other herbs.

Then the commander-in-chief announced the king’s predicament and put forth the challenge. According to this ritual, whoever volunteered to accept the task would rise and partake of a betel leaf and betel nut from the thali. This gesture is considered the giving and accepting of
supari
. Afterwards, the commander-in-chief would walk over with a small bottle containing
surma
(eyeliner) in his hands, and applied the eyeliner on the brave man’s eyes, declaring him a
soorma
(a gallant man). Much after the king died and the Mahim fort was reduced to ruins, this idea of
supari
remained in the lingo of the Bombay mafia though for a different reason. S
upari
now refers to a hit job.

The first ever major
supari
in the history of Mumbai mafia was that of Yusuf Patel, announced by Haji Mastan in 1969. It carried a staggering sum of 10,000 rupees and was given to two Pakistanis with Pashtoon origins.

In keeping with the recklessness of Pathani traditions, the two burly Pathans, chose a crowded spot at Minara Masjid, one of the most picturesque and beautiful mosques in the city, which displays a dazzling illumination during the sacred month of Ramzan. Muslims avoid violence, bloodshed, and such unpleasant activities during the holy month. However, these two Pathans disregarded even the sanctity of the Islamic month and decided to take the hit at Yusuf Patel in the crowded area of the masjid.

The old residents of Minara Masjid will still never forget the night of 22 November 1969 and the gruesome incident that took place after midnight and continued into the early hours of 23 November.

Minara Masjid is located in a predominantly Memon locality. The area is milling with happy-looking Muslims gorging on food starting early in the evening. Here, spirituality was not sought in day-long fasting and abstinence, but rather in the few hours of break that allowed them to have meals. The atmosphere is one of festivity. Small gatherings of people cluster in corners, chatting. Around the precincts of the mosque, Patel had occupied one such corner and was holding his
baithak
, thronged by his acolytes and bodyguards.

Two huge Pathans in their characteristic white Pathani suits appeared, surveying the area with a determined gaze. They identified Patel, who was at the helm of the small gathering, and decided to walk on and take their shot upon their return.

However, one of Patel’s bodyguards picked up on their presence, noticing their stealth and atypical manner. They looked as if they did not belong, yet they were not curious while looking at his boss. Something was amiss. The bodyguard whispered in the ears of Patel. Patel nodded and assured his man he would leave after their discussion was concluded. But the man did not have this much time at his disposal. Within moments, the two Pathans came charging up with their British made guns and opened fire. The alert bodyguard flung himself on his boss, while a stunned Patel was thrown on the ground.

The others pounced on the assailants. Pandemonium erupted in the area which only moments ago had borne an air of celebration. The Pakistanis thought their bullets had hit Patel, as they saw him bleeding and began to make their escape. However, the alert Memons, who believed Yusuf Patel was their own, surrounded the assailant duo from all sides. The well-built Pathans put up a fight but the enraged mob overpowered them and handed them over to the police. Patel had sustained two bullet injuries, luckily on his arms, but his plucky bodyguard had died. The Crime Branch subsequently arrested Haji Mastan, Karim Lala, and eleven others.

Even as the Bombay police were racking their brains over how to tackle this Pathan menace, the Pathan branch of the Special Branch (SB-I) got a tip-off that Ayub Khan Lala had been sighted in the city.

Special Branch or SB is the intelligence wing of the Bombay police. It was established in the Victorian era and the British police machinery made better use of the SB than Indian police bosses, many hold; the British believed in prevention more than the cure. For the Indian police, however, the Crime Branch or Crime Investigation Department was more important. The credo was simple: controlling crime was important and most intelligence inputs were hogwash. Thus the SB was neglected and reduced to a mere clerical or administrative wing of the city police, which registers the influx of foreign visitors and keeps tabs on illegal immigrants in Bombay.

Ayub was one of the most influential, notorious, cunning, treacherous, and elusive Pathans the Bombay police had dealt with. He was a person known to lose his temper at the slightest provocation and resort to violence, in fact, once, he had sliced open a man’s torso just because he had called him a ‘pagal Pathan’.He was also so slippery that whenever he surfaced, the cops were sure a violent trail was likely to follow. He had been summoned by Karim Lala, who had decided to put an end to the warring smugglers in the city; Mastan and Patel. The smugglers decided not only to put an end to their enmity but also to rid themselves of someone who had long been their bête noire.

Not many journalists dared to write against the mafia in those days. However, M.P. Iyer, a veteran crime reporter driven by reckless idealism, persistently wrote about the mafia and made their life increasingly uncomfortable. His articles in the Press Trust of India (PTI) exposed all sections of the crime syndicate. Iyer was unsparing of Mastan, Karim Lala, Yusuf Patel, and the other reigning dons of the time. Finally, the henchmen of these dons got together and decided to silence the daring reporter.

The
supari
was given to Ayub Khan Lala. Ayub thought the best way to get rid of Iyer would be to silence him in such a manner that none of the mafia dons would be suspected of putting a hit on his head.

Iyer was fond of driving a white Ambassador and was reluctant to hail a cab even when his car was giving him trouble. Ayub put his henchmen on the job to keep a tab on Iyer’s movements. They reported that Iyer was planning a trip to Pune and was likely to travel by road in his Ambassador. The day Iyer was supposed to begin the journey, Ayub sent a mechanic to ensure his car would lose control after a bit, which would lead to an accident on the treacherous Ghats of the Mumbai-Pune highway.

An unsuspecting Iyer fell prey to Ayub’s Machiavellian machinations. The moment he accelerated, when he got to Panvel, an exurb of Bombay, his car sped out of control. Iyer crashed against a tree, dying on the spot due to head injuries.

In 1970, Iyer became the first ever journalist ‘silenced’ by the mafia. (Forty-one years after his killing, the mafia, this time at the behest of Chhota Rajan, according to the police, shot to death noted crime reporter Jyotirmoy Dey in broad daylight in Powai.) The Bombay police got wind of the incident only after everything was over and they were left with nothing but the paperwork. They realised the Pathans were going berserk.