Authors: S. Hussain Zaidi
Dawood moved into a villa at Clifton Beach. He also acquired properties in Khayabaane Shamsheer, which is like Mumbai’s Malabar Hill and Shah Rahe Faisal, which is the arterial road in the heart of the city. Shah Rahe Faisal is a little similar to Mahim’s Cadell Road in northwest Mumbai.
Once ensconced in Karachi, Dawood also trained his sights on other Pakistani cities like Lahore. He acquired properties in Madina Market in Lahore, which is similar to Mumbai’s Manish Market, and in the Blue area in Islamabad, which is regarded as one of the prime locations in the Pakistani capital.
The ISI was very accommodating, and Dawood decided Pakistan would be his home until he could return to India. They were his best ally, in these times. In the meantime, he was making efforts to get adjusted to this new city, which was not proving to be too difficult. Karachi, in a lot of ways, was like the Mumbai Dawood had to leave, and was more accepting and familiar than Dubai; also, though he moved there out of compulsion rather than whim, he knew he would be safer there from the Indian authorities. However, he was aware of a seething distrust and ill feeling from the local mafia, who were predominantly Jats and Mohajirs.
Dawood’s Clifton Beach villa was in the vicinity of the shrine of Sufi saint Shah Abdullah Ghazi. The shrine has an uncanny resemblance to Mahim’s Makhdoom Shah dargah as the façade and the portico of the shrine looked exactly the same; Dawood felt at home. Especially as his father Ibrahim had been a devout Muslim and was a regular at the shrines of the Sufi saints; Dawood had inherited this trait from his father. Incidentally, most of the underworld dons had some kind of special affinity with Makhdoom Shah of Mahim. In fact, Makhdoom Shah Baba is also popular not just with the mafia but also with the Mumbai police; the Mahim Police Station led the annual convention or ‘urs’ of the saint and every year the senior police inspector is given the responsibility of leading the procession with the customary
thaal
on his head, which is why the shrine of Abdullah Ghazi made this feel like a homecoming.
Among the mafia, the Baba Bahauddin dargah in south Mumbai abutting Bombay Hospital also has a loyal fan following. The Baba is fondly referred to as the finance minister by the Muslim mafia. The Memons, Muslims from Gujarat considered a trader community, revere the Baba and most of them attribute their riches to him. Most Muslims in Mumbai genuflect before the Bahauddin Shah Baba near the Metro cinema in Mumbai ‘to ask for money’. They still talk about the rags-to-riches story of Mustafa Dossa alias Majnun, a don from Mumbai whose father unfailingly sang praises of the Baba every Friday. Mustafa Majnun’s brother, Haroon, a budding Sufi himself, still visits the dargah every day. It is said that if you ask the Bahauddin Shah Baba for money, he will shower it on you. ‘
Sab log yahan paise ke liye mannat mangte hain
[every devotee comes here wishing for money] and the Baba never disappoints. Hence he is known as the finance minister,’ he says.
Dawood disposed of most of his properties in Dubai and wound up all his business interests in the Emirates so that the Indian agencies could never trace them back to him. By the end of 1994, Chhota Rajan had firmly ensconced himself in Kuala Lumpur, while Dawood and his tribesmen had found a safe haven in Karachi. The map had been rearranged, but the gangsters remained at large. After Chhota Rajan’s exit from the scene, Chhota Shakeel had officially donned the mantle of Dawood’s aide de camp and begun to handle the business of the D gang. Even though the gang’s headquarters had been relocated from Dubai, Shakeel and his men outwardly maintained that they were still stationed in Dubai. In order to complete the deception that they were still working out of the emirate, Shakeel even used a Dubai SIM card, all the while safe in Pakistan.
New to this seat of power, Shakeel began to flex his muscles, asserting his might. Unlike Rajan, who believed in centralised command and checked even on the lowest rung operator in Mumbai, Shakeel followed the principles of decentralised management. Sharad Shetty was assigned the fiefdoms of horse racing, cricket betting, and dealing with hoteliers and builders in Mumbai. Sautya was responsible for weapon handling, mediation in disputes and looking after imprisoned men, Shakeel himself had begun to coordinate film funding and hawala. Apart from this, Shakeel also poked his nose into other business interests like real estate. In spite of this over-reaching, he managed to keep everyone happy and remained in the good books of Dawood and his old friends—something which Rajan, known to be a very blunt person, had failed to pull off and rubbed everyone wrongly.
Shakeel had learnt one thing from Dawood’s friends in the Turkish mafia and their operations in Cyprus though he claimed it as his own brainchild. He had begun cultivating young Muslim boys barely in their teens to use guns and shoot to kill. These school dropouts were from predominantly Muslim localities like Dongri, Pydhonie, Bhendi Bazaar, and Antop Hill areas. These teenagers, disillusioned with society, shouldered the burden of supporting a family prematurely and were frustrated at the prejudices against their community in the job sector. They were quickly drawn towards the lure of easy money.
For them, 5, 000 rupees for one careful pulling of the trigger at point blank range was a lucrative offer. Of course this was risky but for a ruffian who had been loafing around the whole day and had to listen to a volley of abuses at home for not making a decent living, any risk that could boost his self-esteem was worth it.
Becoming a hitman for Shakeel Bhai not only gave these boys quick money but earned the appreciation and trust of the great Shakeel Bhai, who was a right-hand man of the legendary Dawood Bhai, and all this gave the young gangsters an aura of power.
Shakeel had started hiring and Arif Khan, Asif Shaikh, and Feroz Sarguroh became some of his boys, barely 17 or 18 years old when Shakeel hired them and gave them guns. The biggest surprise came in the form of Feroz Sarguroh, who became a dreaded sharpshooter in the underworld and was soon known as Feroz Konkani.
Hailing from a conservative Muslim family, the good-looking Konkani lad had begun his career at the age of 16. He had caught Shakeel’s attention with his first crime: slitting the throats of two Mathadi workers at Masjid Bunder in January 1993. The gruesome killing of two Hindu labourers triggered the second round of rioting in Mumbai, which was also much more violent then the first wave of bloodshed soon after the demolition of Babri Masjid in December 1992.
Feroz joined the Shakeel gang and became the most daring and fearsome sharpshooter it had. After Feroz, other teenage Muslim shooters like Shakir Durbar and Ibrahim Shaikh joined the gang but Feroz’s track record remained unsurpassed. Shakeel managed to wield terror and fear in the hearts of Mumbai’s business community. And Feroz had earned the nickname of the ‘youngest killing machine’: here was the new generation of Mumbai gangsters.
The killing of BJP leader Ramdas Nayak, flanked by his security men, in broad daylight at a Bandra junction was one of the most gruesome murders recorded by the Mumbai police.
It was just another day on the busy Hill Road in Bandra on the morning of 25 August 1994. MLA Nayak left home in his Ambassador at 10 am, accompanied by police constable B.M. Tadvi, who had been supplied to him as protection by the Bombay police. As the car pulled into the main road and turned towards Bandra’s SV Road, nobody noticed the two men walking towards them. At least, not until the shooting began. It was only then that people noticed that the two, later identified as Feroz Konkani and Javed Sayed alias Soni, had AK-47 rifles in their hands which were spewing bullets at Nayak’s car. Even as the car’s windshield shattered and people began screaming, Tadvi came rolling out of the car, armed and ready with a sten-gun, and returned fire. However, his gun was no match for the assault rifles used by militant organisations around the world, and he too was riddled with bullets.
‘Gurnam, John,
bhaago
!’ Feroz shouted to other accomplices who were standing across the street from Nayak’s house. One of them escaped in a waiting Fiat, while another escaped on a motorcycle. He and Soni then hijacked a passing autorickshaw and fled the scene.
Investigations later revealed that gangster Chhota Shakeel had given the contract to kill Nayak to one Sajid Batliwala who, in turn, had given the assignment to Fero, the dreaded contract killer. Batliwala was also instrumental in supplying firearms to Konkani and his hit squad. Nayak was an elected councillor
of the BMC and Shakeel felt that his activities were causing harm to the Muslim community.
Feroz had humiliated the police; they now had to get him to retrieve their lost prestige.
With a string of murders to his name, Feroz was finally tracked down and arrested at the Blue Diamond hotel in Bangalore in October 1995. However, in 1998, he escaped in a daring jailbreak, in broad daylight. His men opened fire at the police while Feroz was being brought out of the JJ Hospital to be taken back to the Thane Central Jail after a CT Scan. Police constable P.D. Kardile lost his life in the firing.
Until his arrest, Feroz was involved in eighteen killings, of which sixteen were at the behest of Shakeel.
By then Shakeel had understood the success of finding young boys with no police records and training them to kill. As there was no dearth of unemployed Muslim boys willing to emulate Konkani, the business of bloodshed continued unabated and Shakeel seemed to have benefited by it the most.
Shakeel had managed to establish himself and consolidate his position in the gang. Within months of Rajan’s exit, Shakeel had established an all-pervasive presence in the D Syndicate. Dawood, who initially doubted how capable Shakeel would be as second-in-command, was relieved that his business would not take a beating.
However, there was one man who did not like Shakeel’s success and his being considered Dawood’s alter ego. This was Dawood’s brother Anees. Anees had often made snide remarks about Shakeel and tried to ridicule him, but Shakeel could not retaliate, as he knew that Dawood would not tolerate any action against his brother.
Anees liked Dawood’s style of functioning—to take a back seat and delegate authority and choose someone as the CEO. You get your job done smoothly, without dirtying your hands. And if a particular job gets botched, it can easily be disowned; you blame it on some incompetent men in the gang hierarchy and placate the affected party, who readily buy the explanation, knowing the gang and the sub gangs within the gang.
Shakeel had several detractors and rivals within the gang. While Shakeel could stand up to his other competitors, he could not do much against Dawood’s sibling, who himself nursed ambitions of heading the D Syndicate. He liked the idea of delegating to get the job done, sitting back while the dirty work was done, and Shakeel was only in his way, as far as this was concerned. Also, Anees never liked Shakeel and had had a good equation with Rajan. In fact, he was the only sibling or D gang member who kept in touch with Rajan for a couple of years after his escape from Dubai.
However, Anees also wanted a Man Friday, who could be his ace manager, keep his coffers flowing with cash and promote his name in India. He looked around amongst the members of the gang and did not find anyone who would fit the bill.
Meanwhile, Abu Salem Ansari, who had been on the run since the serial blasts in Mumbai, had landed in Dubai. Salem had been accused of delivering AK-47s and grenades to film star Sanjay Dutt at his residence at Ajanta in Pali Hill, Bandra, in what was to become an infamous takedown of the popular Bollywood star.
When the Mumbai police launched a crackdown on all the Dawood men, Salem too appeared on the police radar. He sped off from Mumbai and reached his village Sarai Mir in Azamgarh. After having spent some time in Lucknow, from where he kept calling Anees Bhai, he was called to Dubai. Once in Dubai he realised that he was on his own and needed someone powerful close to him. Perhaps it was Abu Salem’s good fortune that Anees was trying to find a confidante. Since he had no godfather in Mumbai or Dubai, Salem thought he would adhere to Anees Bhai’s diktats and make him his godfather, growing in the mafia hierarchy. Salem began kow-towing to Anees and bragging about his own exploits in Mumbai to impress him.
As Anees had no other option and Salem seemed sincere and loyal, he decided to give him a chance. Thus is many a collaboration born.
12
Rise of the Minions
S
alem stood before a life-sized mirror. It was as if he was inexorably drawn to his reflection. He could not take his eyes off his face.
Salem had recently shaved off his moustache and beard and now sported a clean-shaven look. While in Mumbai, he had sported long tresses and a Muslim beard and moustache, a legacy from his Azamgarh days. His devout Muslim look was complete with a fez cap, giving him the aura of a highly religious Muslim youth.
But when he made an escape from Mumbai, on the run to Hyderabad, Lucknow, and Delhi before eventually landing up in Dubai, he kept changing his appearances. Once he shaved, he was transformed—and he had fallen in love with his new look.
Salem thought that his handsome face was now befitting that of a Bollywood hero. Thus was born Mumbai’s most narcissistic, self-worshipping gangster, who loved his looks so much that he decided to earn the epithet of ‘the handsome’ ganglord.
Salem had seen lot of balding dons—Chhota Shakeel, Anees Bhai, Noora, Tiger Memon—and shuddered at how ugly and repulsive they were. He was not going to let himself go like that. Salem began to pay attention to the clothes he wore, colognes he used, and the branded leather belts and shoes completed the picture. Witnesses who lived with him for years say that he was obsessed with his looks to such an extent that he used to brush his hair every hour He was also extremely particular about his manicure and pedicure sessions—something perhaps no other mafia don had ever paid any attention to.