Authors: S. Hussain Zaidi
A few months after Ayub’s murder, the alcoholic Saeed Baatla headed out to a country liquor bar in Dongri. He had earned the name ‘Baatla’ because of his excessive drinking and his huge pot belly. Baatla was a distorted version of
baatli
, which means bottle in Bombay slang. Saeed Baatla was a crude, frivolous man who engaged in the deep vulgarities of a man with too much fondness for drink. He was known, for example, for molesting women on the street.
Tipped off, Khalid and his men headed out to the little bar to hunt down Baatla. Patience exhausted, this time Dawood accompanied them to witness and be a part of the execution. Cruelty was becoming, increasingly, Dawood’s forte.
Dawood, Khalid, and their men found an almost drunk Baatla at the bar. Caught off guard and thwarted by liquor, Baatla had no time to react as one blow after the other landed on his chubby frame. If he was even capable of thought at that point, Baatla was left with none as the men threw him around the bar, wreaking severe damage to his face and body. As onlookers scattered from the bar, Baatla lay gasping for breath. Desperately, he tried to writhe free. Suddenly, he felt two men grab his arms and drag him to the same table he had been sitting on. As the men laid his hands on the table, he saw a knife flashing in the light of a low-hanging light bulb, out of the corner of his swollen eyes. Khalid approached the table, a strange expression on his face.
As Baatla lifted his beaten head, the only sound he heard was a clean crunch that went all the way through to the table and a screeching pain that ran through his body into his head, from the end of his palm. He had just lost a finger. Khalid proceeded to cut off Baatla’s fingers one by one, savouring each moment before moving on to the next. As the bones crushed under the blade and blood gushed across the table, Khalid never completely severed each digit, instead letting it hang by a piece of skin as Baatla knelt on the floor of the bar, grimacing in agony. This incredulous craft, that of sick pleasure, seemed only to please Dawood and the men around him at the bar.
As tears of pain scored down his shocked face, Baatla somehow managed to slip out and darted towards the door. He bolted out of the bar and towards the Dongri Police Station, which loomed close; as though fate had placed it there for him. Screaming in anguish, Baatla gave himself up to the police, confessing his every crime. Even in his intoxicated state, Baatla knew that he would be safer with the police than out on the streets. Dawood and his men had pursued Baatla for a while but when he entered the police station, they let off their chase, knowing there was no way out for him either way.
Baatla spent fourteen years in jail after this incident. And Dawood asked Khalid Pehelwan to move into Musafirkhana, the headquarters of the D Gang. Dawood had underscored his point—made it loud and bloody clear. He had just begun to arrive into his element and the first stage of his dominance in the Bombay mafia was ushered in with the advent of Khalid Pehelwan.
16
The Emergency
T
he Research and Analysis Wing (RAW), India’s premier spy agency, was constituted in 1962 at the end of the war with China. The idea was to improve India’s intelligence abroad, because during the hostilities against the Chinese there was a total failure of intelligence. Biju Patnaik gave a helping hand in the initial stages because he had earned a reputation of ‘working well behind the enemy line’ when, many years ago, during Dutch rule over Indonesia, he had himself flown a plane to Jakarta to rescue Sukarno, the then head of Indonesia’s national movement.
RAW was directly under the Prime Minister’s secretariat. Indira Gandhi was the first prime minister to use it for political intelligence within the country. Its advantage was its compactness and the personnel, who were chosen either for their brilliant academic record or for their relationship with a dependable top civil or police officer. RAW had built up dossiers on government opponents, on critics within the Congress party, businessmen, bureaucrats, and journalists. Preparing lists of opponents was no problem; RAW had everything ready in its files.
It was during a meeting between the then Maharashtra Chief Minister V.P. Naik and Prime Minister Indira Gandhi that it was concluded that the mafia could not be controlled by intelligence or prohibition; but rather by tougher laws, which showed no leniency. As the mafia had become a big menace in Gujarat and Bombay, two of the most flourishing regions in the country, it became imperative for the Central Government to act.
And thus began promulgation and implementation of tougher laws which until then were unprecedented. The Maintenance of Internal Security Act (MISA) had been amended in 1974 to authorise the government to detain or arrest individuals without producing charges before a court of law. However, when this law was passed, the government had given its assurance to the Opposition in Parliament that MISA would not be used to detain political opponents. The MISA was originally constituted in 1971 and since then had undergone several amendments.
One of the points that Indira Gandhi raked up as a 20-point programme was special legislation for confiscation of smugglers’ properties. Gandhi also said that MISA would be used to catch smugglers. Indeed, their operations were worldwide while their headquarters were in Dubai. Banks and insurance companies had opened their offices there to finance as well as cover the risks involved in smuggling. An elaborate network of transport by sea, land, and air had been built. The long coastline from Gujarat to Kerala was dotted with marked points where smuggled goods were received and then transported to numerous consumer centres in the country.
Madras was a hub for smugglers while Bangalore (present day Bengaluru) provided a safe retreat for them to meet and compare notes. They had their own godowns, markets, and code of conduct. There was a direct link between smugglers and black money operators.
As the government went on overdrive against the smugglers, criminals, and black marketeers on a war footing, it decided to tighten the grip on the country further and declared a state of Emergency on 26 June 1975. One gain of the Emergency was stabilisation of the prices of essential goods. Schools, shops, trains, and buses showed the effects of discipline. And effectively, the mafia was underground for nineteen months during the period of Emergency.
On the political front, the killing of Shaikh Mujibur Rahman, the president of the newly-formed Bangladesh and most of his family in cold blood on 14 August, caused ripples in New Delhi. Neither RAW nor any other intelligence service had had the faintest clue beforehand. They had failed Gandhi once again. In fact, from that day on, Sanjay, her son and confidant, began to call RAW the ‘Relatives of Wives Association’; there were too many ‘relations’ of top RAW officials within the organisation. Gandhi expressed to the RAW chief Ramji Kao her unhappiness over the lack of prior intelligence reports on Bangladesh. What worried her was that if the intelligence could fail her in Bangladesh, it could fail her in India as well. Emergency, though imposed for political reasons and with the ambition to sustain supremacy in Parliament, had crippled the Indian media and deprived a common man his basic rights. To the Bombay mafia, it in fact dealt a death blow.
For the first time, on the floors of Parliament, the names of Bombay smugglers Haji Mastan, Yusuf Patel, and Sukur Bakhia were mentioned. And this was enough for the government machinery to swing into action.
Mastan, who was already under detention under MISA for ninety days since 17 September to 19 December 1974, could not even rally round to plan his next move as the government slapped on him charges under yet another law: Conservation of Foreign Exchange and Prevention of Smuggling Act (COFEPOSA). Mastan, despite hiring the best criminal lawyers like Ram Jethmalani, had to spend the entire period of the Emergency in jail.
An ordinance was issued on 1 July 1975 under which persons detained under the COFEPOSA need no longer be given grounds for detention. Whatever Indira Gandhi’s political compulsions might have been for imposing Emergency, it became an era of ruthless enforcement against the smugglers. A good deal of black money was unearthed and a number of traders were held under MISA for ‘economic offences’.
Arthur Road Jail in Bombay, Thane Central Prison, the Yeravada Jail in Pune, Harsul Jail in Kolhapur were all packed to their capacity, with most of the criminals, smugglers, economic offenders, goondas
,
and black marketers rounded up and thrown behind bars.
If Mastan was detained under MISA and COFEPOSA, others like Varadarajan, Karim Lala, Dawood Ibrahim, the Pathans, Rama Naik, and Arun Gawli were picked up under the National Security Act (NSA) and imprisoned. In a way this brought all those gangsters together, men who had had no formal introduction or interaction earlier. For instance, Naik and Varda struck a rapport and became so thick that they began discussing how to handle the Vasai and Virar jetties for smuggling, a plan they eventually managed to execute after their release.
The then Police Commissioner S.V. Tankiwala, appointed police chief barely weeks after the Emergency was imposed, in one of his reports to the Union Home Ministry wrote: ‘The anti-smuggling drive made the business of smuggling goods not only hazardous but also expensive. As many as 288 smugglers, including their top men like Haji Mastan and Yusuf Patel, were detained and the property of 177 smugglers was attached.’
However, people like Haji Mastan and Karim Lala, who ended up spending almost two years behind bars realised that they had reached a dead end. They felt that they were fighting a losing battle against the government and it seemed that they might end up in jail for a lifetime unless they assured the government that they would not indulge in any illegal activities anymore.
After the Emergency was lifted and the Janata Party came to power in 1977, Mastan and Karim Lala both implored Jaiprakash Narayan to intervene with the then Prime Minister Morarji Desai to show compassion towards them.Both of them had filed affidavits and under oath gave promises to the government that they would not get involved in any illegal activity again. The Desai dispensation accepted their plea and finally they were released from detention.
Subsequently, other gangsters like Dawood, his brother Sabir, Gawli, Naik, and other criminals filed bail applications in court, and as the charges against them were not as serious and not backed by substantial evidence, they managed to procure bail from a court of law.
17
Mill Worker-Turned-Don
I
t was twilight one winter night in 1977, just after the Emergency. A huge crowd had gathered outside the shop. Angry voices of outraged people could be heard from within. The crowd outside spoke in muted tones, hushed voices, and staged whispers, not sure whether to believe the rumour that was spreading. People were saying Parasnath Pandey was dead, not killed! In his own den at that. This could not be. Who could possibly have mustered the nerve to commit such an act?
On walking into the small dingy shop, you could see the broken, bloodied body of Pandey. All over the room were strewn the remains of all the trappings of his earthly power. Blood and gore were the only leftovers of his arrogance. Who could be responsible for this outrageous act?
Pandey’s
matka
table was broken in two pieces. The last vestige of Pandey’s power had been destroyed. The same table that plotted and predicted the downfall of many families, killed so many futures, was now destroyed. Everyone knew of Pandey’s clout and the fact that someone murdered him would mean that the killers were either rookies or the big guns. The question was, which one of them would prove more dangerous?
The history of the mafia in Bombay is dotted with challenges and fraught with stories of boys who grew to become giants. It was common practice to see young upstarts challenging the old brigade and eventually replacing them. Pandey was no different. Just a few months before his death, the Lambi Cement chawl in Byculla where he propagated his trade had witnessed the emergence of some new heroes.
A trio, an informal association of Kundan Dubey, Parasnath Pandey, and Mohan Sarmalkar that came to be called the Byculla Company grew together in the bylanes of Byculla. Any extortion, killing, or operating gambling dens were carried out by these three, the notorious Byculla Company. While this was not uncommon in the streets of Byculla, it was how they were going to use their relationship that ultimately made them different.
Soon, a man from Maharashtra called Rama Naik dared to dream. Amidst the predominantly north Indian majority monopolising the
matka
business, he opened his own
matka
and liquor den. It was his first open challenge to the Byculla Company. The swords were drawn. While Dubey and Pandey owned
matka
dens, Sarmalkar was involved in the liquor business and collected
haftas
(protection money paid to dons) from the locals—in fact, he was rumoured to be associated with murders that happened on the ‘S’ Bridge in Byculla. Naik sought to show his own power in this field.
With Dubey, Naik had another axe to grind. Kundan Dubey had killed Umakant Naik because one of his brothers, Arvind, had been in love with Pushpa, Dubey’s sister. With Pandey, the uncrowned king of the
matka
business, it was pure business. A fiefdom can never have two kings and one must topple the other to reign supreme and thus it had become necessary to kill Pandey. But Naik was not going solo in all his work. There were two others—Babu Reshim and Arun Gulab Ahir alias Arun Gawli. The latter would go on to become Dawood’s biggest detractor of the time.