Dawood's Mentor

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Dawood's Mentor Page 6

by S. Hussain Zaidi


  Khalid was under pressure to start earning but his new-found glory as a wrestler was an impediment. In the meantime, enrolment for the Bharat Kumar Trophy in Delhi had begun. The title for Bharat Kumar and Hind Kesari is meant for heavyweight wrestlers and for college students in the lightweight category, respectively. The winner was christened Bharat Kumar.

  Khalid had decided to participate in the Bharat Kumar championship and then give up wrestling to look for a more lucrative career.

  In those days, Maharashtrian youths were diehard fans of wrestling and there were a couple of local vyayamshalas (gym schools) in most Mumbai streets, several of them established by the Shiv Sena. Some of the boys worked hard to display their strength in bodybuilding competitions while others trained to become successful wrestlers.

  Though the Shiv Sena was fast gaining popularity with the Konkan Maharashtrians initially, there was nobody to sponsor the Maharashtrian boys for wrestling competitions outside Mumbai. Ironically, it was Mumbai’s notorious don Ahmed Khan, alias Bashu Dada, himself a fitness enthusiast and a man with a barrel chest and rippling biceps, who became a sponsor for wrestling sports in Mumbai.

  Bashu Dada believed that he was no less than the Mughal conqueror Babar, who had brought pehelwani (wrestling) to India. Pehelwani is a derivative of the Persian word pehelavi, meaning ‘the front ranker’, ‘the proficient ones’. Babar himself had been a wrestler known for his brute physical strength. He could run a considerable distance carrying two men on either side of his shoulders! He had also been a patron of wrestling.

  Even other kings and rulers in the earlier centuries enjoyed wrestling, Shivaji included. Among the saints, the Sikh guru Hargobind Singh was also known for his interest in wrestling. Among the women, Rani Lakshmibai was a reputed wrestler. There were varying styles in wrestling like kushti and malla yudh (physical combat).

  In modern Maharashtra there were not many takers for physical sports. Bashu Dada loved soccer matches and freestyle wrestling. He also patronized the sports and since there were no Muslim boys who were interested in wrestling, he began sponsoring Maharashtrian youths to compete in championships. One of Bashu Dada’s favourite wrestlers was a Maharashtrian college-going youth called Varun Mane. Mane turned out to be really a strong contender for the Bharat Kumar title and managed to defeat several wrestlers, seeming to be on the verge of bagging the trophy until he was face to face with Khalid Khan.

  The young men continued with their throws, pins and takedowns. However, in less than two minutes, Khalid had understood that he would have to try something different with Mane, who would not give him enough time to be airlifted. Unlike north Indian contenders, Mumbai men are quick thinkers.

  But Khalid figured that Mane could be confused. He decided to mislead Mane into thinking he was doing a certain move but in actuality would do something else, for which Mane would be totally unprepared. Khalid’s reputation had preceded him and Mane had, of course, heard about Khalid’s penchant for lifting his opponents high up in the air and flinging them to the ground. Mane had decided he would not allow Khalid to lift him up.

  Khalid knew he would have to stoop this time to conquer. Suddenly, things happened in a blur. Khalid held Mane by his elbow and lunged to sit down with his knees. Mane thought this was the moment that he should be wary of, as Khalid was bracing to lift him. But Khalid was not, he was merely being deceptive. Mane tried to step back and get away from Khalid’s grip. But Khalid wanted to just put his arm on Mane’s thighs and hold his hamstrings tight. Mane felt gripped and immobile and was forced to capitulate. Khalid immediately lifted him on his shoulder and turned him over to the floor. Before Mane could move, Khalid dived and straddled his chest with all his weight and might. Mane was lying totally flat on the ground with a look of total disbelief in his eyes. He never expected Khalid to defeat him so easily. In wrestling this particular move is called ‘kalajung dao’—the black battle assault. Confusion, chaos and conquer.

  The whole stadium rose in a standing ovation, the air reverberating with applause and whistles.

  Bashu Dada was sprawled on a sofa in the front row. He was so dumbfounded at this stunning upset that he froze. He neither stood up nor joined the audience in the applause. His eyes had reddened with rage and his nostrils were flaring. He felt Khalid had been too cocky. He had no right to defeat his player in such a manner.

  Bashu had taken Mane’s defeat to heart. He decided to tame Khalid and subjugate him into submission.

  8

  The Protégé

  When Khalid Khan Pacha defeated Ram Dayal Pehelwan in Bhopal and claimed the title of ‘Boss of Bhopal’, 777 km away, at the Ahmed Sailor High School in Nagpada, Bombay, a young boy was getting a dressing-down from his teacher. This was a regular occurrence, of course. This time, the boy had consistently failed in all the unit tests in the first semester. He was accompanied by another errant sibling, who joined him uneasily in attention as he was also the target of the teacher’s ire. She finished her diatribe by summoning the boys’ father to school the following day.

  Police Head Constable Ibrahim Kaskar was one of the most well-respected cops in the city, working for the elite crime branch. In the 1970s, he was the most resourceful and indispensable tools in the arsenal of Mumbai Police, who commanded a lot of respect. His seniors, including the deputy commissioner of police (DCP), who were from the Indian Police Service (IPS) cadre, held him in high esteem. Kaskar and his colleagues were not treated like inferiors because they were constables, much lower down in the hierarchy. Instead, Havildar Ibrahim Kaskar solved several cases by sleuthing around and keeping his ears to the ground. He was one of the most popular in the constabulary of his time.

  According to Bombay legend, he was part of the constable triumvirate, which included Pandu Havildar and Havildar 303, which was his billa (batch) number. Head Constable Kaskar was, however, referred to as ‘Ibrahim Havildar’. He was known in police circles as an honest, devoted and extremely dedicated professional.

  Among the Ibrahim Havildar stories that did the rounds, one was about how he induced fear in criminals’ mind with an innocuous gesture. When Ibrahim Havildar would casually touch the brass buckle of his black leather belt, the criminals in the room would begin peeing their pants. They would often misconstrue his action because it seemed like he was about to unbuckle his belt to give them a proper thrashing until they fell unconscious. Ibrahim Havildar’s seniors often tapped into this fear factor and there would be special requests for his brass-buckle trick in the interrogation room.

  But Ibrahim Havildar had his own low moments. Whenever he was summoned to Ahmed Sailor High School he would break into a cold sweat. He was no longer a policeman who could terrify criminals. Instead, he felt shamed, drawn and quartered. He felt defeated and helpless, and he often asked Allah why he was being tested again and again.

  Whenever his sons were up to some mischief at school, he was politely summoned by the principal. He hated to stand there before the school authorities and listen to the litany of complaints against his boys. Most of all, he wished his sons would grow up to be responsible and studious and spare him the ignominy of standing like an offender in front of the school principal. And because it was happening quite regularly, he was beginning to feel the actual pain of this whole exercise. Fortunately, thanks to his solid police credentials, he was spared the tongue-lashing the other parents were subjected to in earfuls.

  The boys would have turned out better but for an unfortunate turn of events in Ibrahim Havildar’s life. Just when the children were starting out in school, he was suspended along with a batch of policemen who had investigated the death of actress Suraiya’s father, Aziz Jamal Sheikh. Sheikh was found dead at his daughter’s Krishna Mahal apartment in Marine Lines in 1963.

  Suraiya was not just the reigning queen of the Hindi film industry but a huge sensation too. In the 1940s and 1950s, Suraiya was a top singing star and commanded a price of Rs 2 lakh per movie, at a time when other stars were being paid
only in thousands. Much before the celluloid-crazy fans from south India established temples for their movie icons, Suraiya was being worshipped by fanatical fans. Her house in Marine Lines drew huge crowds and it is said that even after all these decades, her fan following and the crowds outside her house are much larger than for any of the lead actors who came in the years after her. At the zenith of her fame, on the promenade outside Marine Lines, fans would come with a baraat (wedding procession) and dowry, while other fans declared their eternal love and waited for a glimpse. Neither Amitabh Bachchan’s home, Pratiksha, nor Rajesh Khanna’s Ashirwad, nor even Shah Rukh Khan’s Mannat, which receive thousands of visitors every day, witnessed such fan frenzy.

  In the 1950s, Kanti Desai, the son of the then chief minister of Bombay Presidency, Morarji Desai, had once asked her to come to a private party where some political bigwigs were in attendance. Suraiya politely declined, and it is said that Kanti Desai threatened her. It’s a different story that Suraiya was totally smitten with Dev Anand, to the exclusion of everybody else, and that is why her attention was elsewhere. And, then, one day, on Holi, Aziz Jamal suddenly died. Suraiya did not want her father’s death to be investigated as a homicide.

  It was widely alleged that Suraiya bribed the entire team of crime branch investigators to term the death a natural one. It could never be established whether the investigators obliged her for pecuniary gains, or gave in because of her cult status, as most of them were in awe of her, or whether Aziz Jamal did indeed die of natural causes.

  Subsequently, the issue was raised in the state legislature. The state of Maharashtra had been newly formed and there was quite an anti-Gujarati wave being witnessed because Morarji Desai had declared that ‘Maharashtra would not get Bombay in the next 5000 years.’ The Samyukta Maharashtra Movement had lost over a hundred people before it won its case and Bombay finally became a part of Maharashtra. The Suraiya–Kanti Desai face-off was by then well known and the newly minted Maharashtrian politicians thought that Suraiya’s father’s death might reap them some windfalls. But it is well known that the moment politicians take interest in something, they look for fall guys. The entire police team probing Suraiya’s father’s death was suspended from service. Head Constable Ibrahim Kaskar was part of the team and was also apparently close to Suraiya’s family, in a personal capacity.

  Suraiya also bid adieu to a sterling movie career and signed off in 1963 with her last movie, Rustom Sohrab. But old-timers in the know claim that she left the movie business due to her bereavement and the subsequent controversy that forced her to retreat into a shell.

  There is a proverb that says a giant tree falls to its end with a massive thud but it is the weeds and other life forms below the tree that become the collateral damage. Ibrahim Kaskar and his family were one of the biggest casualties in the wake of Suraiya’s father’s death. Following his three-year suspension, he was sacked from the police force in 1966. This sudden loss of his job put his large family in a precarious situation. Ibrahim Havildar had seven sons and four daughters.

  Kaskar had enrolled his sons Sabir and Dawood at the English-medium Ahmed Sailor High School in Nagpada. The other children were sent to Urdu-medium municipal schools as Kaskar was suspended and could not pay the school fees regularly.

  Ibrahim Havildar’s best friend and cousin, Rahim Chacha, recalled how Ibrahim was nervous before every visit to the school, which was walking distance from his house in Temkar Mohalla. When the principal listed the barrage of complaints against Sabir and Dawood, including their absenteeism, consistent failure in exams and, above all, Dawood’s incorrigible behaviour with his teachers and his propensity towards violence, Ibrahim could be often seen stuttering and stammering before the principal, unable to muster up a decent response.

  There exist hazy apocryphal stories of how some of the victims of Ibrahim Havildar’s belt treatment had threatened teachers at his sons’ school to embarrass him with accounts of their misdeeds. It was said the conspirators of such complaints would stand at a distance and look at a squirming Ibrahim Havildar as he was lambasted by the teachers.

  Ibrahim Havildar would return home and unleash his frustration on the boys. He beat them black and blue but they were up to their old tricks in no time. Among the two brothers, Sabir was more into roughing up his classmates, while Dawood was more into playing pranks. Their continuous mischief and physical violence had made them quite an unpopular duo in the entire school.

  With an increasing number of complaints and humiliation faced at the school, Ibrahim Havildar was fast becoming disillusioned with his sons. And one fine day, when Sabir was in class eight, the inevitable happened. His worst fears came true. He was summoned to the school and told in no uncertain terms that Sabir was being rusticated as he had got into a brawl with another classmate and banged the boy’s head against a bench, resulting in a serious injury that required several stitches.

  Ibrahim Havildar was deeply saddened and humiliated, and brought Sabir home. Ibrahim and his wife, Amina, both now pinned their hopes on Dawood and asked him to pay attention to his studies. Dawood was in class seven and hurt by his brother’s expulsion from school.

  Dawood showed plenty of enthusiasm and tried to focus on his studies, knowing he was the only hope for his poor parents and starving siblings. Ibrahim’s senior at the police station, Inspector Burhan Malgi used to support Ibrahim and would encourage him to let Dawood study so that eventually at least the son could join the police force as a sub-inspector. Ibrahim was grateful for Malgi’s intervention and support.

  Malgi prevailed on the school management to give another chance to Dawood and also promised to pay his school fees. This interest and enthusiasm shown by him facilitated Dawood’s continuation of his studies and he was also inducted into the Road Safety Patrol (RSP). The initiative for including school students into the RSP, an honorary traffic-training programme for secondary-class students, was very popular. Unlike in the present times, where the RSP is totally neglected, in the 1970s it was a matter of prestige for a parent and his ward to be included in the programme.

  The RSP is a programme in which schoolchildren, under the tutelage of a traffic constable, were assigned to regulate traffic in the area near their school. This would train the kids in road safety and eventually prepare them to follow law and order in the society.

  Since Dawood’s father had been in the traffic department for several years, Dawood was also fascinated with the police force. Subsequently, he also began visiting his father in the high-security precincts of the crime branch headquarters in Crawford Market. Right through his childhood Dawood had grown up with an abundance of uniforms around him. This had automatically resulted in two things: first, his enormous respect for and comfort with the uniform, which exuded power; and second, despite the huge respect he had for the uniform, he was not intimidated by authority. The latter helped him immensely in his criminal career.

  However, his guardian angel Malgi ensured that Dawood got his RSP uniform comprising a white shirt, tie, blue shorts and a red beret cap. This immediately cheered up Dawood and his depressed father, Ibrahim Kaskar. When Dawood donned the RSP uniform, it was discussed in the family that the uniform augured well for the boy, that this was a stepping stone to other uniforms later in life and that he would not stop until he became a police officer more famous than his father. Dawood began attending the RSP training sessions regularly and also tried to improve his academic performance. The next few months were uneventful. With Sabir out of the school, Dawood was more focused. The family’s expectations from him were also very high, Sabir having been written off by them. The general mood was that Dawood would turn out to be a worthy son in the Kaskar clan and change the family’s fortunes through education.

  But fate had other plans for Head Constable Dawood Hasan Kaskar—the khaki of the police uniform or the salute of the constables was not destined for him.

  The retired assistant commissioner of police (ACP) Burhan Malgi recalled that despite h
is best efforts, things went beyond control after a point of time. One December morning, when Dawood was manning the Nagpada Junction, opposite Sarvi restaurant, he suddenly got distracted at the sight of a few boys assembling outside the garden at the end of the Clare Road intersection that merges at Nagpada Junction.

  Dawood was standing in the middle of the intersection and trying to whistle and navigate the huge inflow of traffic, but he kept looking at the boys who had now formed a group and had some sticks and rods in their hands. Dawood could not understand the strange behaviour of the boys. Soon they disappeared from his sight.

  Ahmed Sailor High School had a full-fledged basketball team that practised regularly. Sabir was good at basketball and used to participate regularly when he was in school. Even after his suspension, he would go and just watch the matches, sitting on the school wall. His detractors never liked his presence around the school.

  One particular day, there happened to be one player short on the court. Sabir’s friend asked him to substitute for an injured player. Sabir gladly joined the team. In a span of a few minutes, he had managed to score a couple of baskets. The opposing team did not like this and shoved him a couple of times. Initially, Sabir shrugged it off, but when he saw a pattern, he kicked one of the boys in the groin. This immediately escalated matters.

  A secret message was circulated by the opposing team and a few boys were summoned as reinforcements to rein in Sabir. It was this group of boys that Dawood had earlier seen from his spot at Nagpada Junction. In less than half an hour, Dawood had received word that a group of boys had cornered Sabir and assaulted him. Dawood abandoned his post and rushed to his brother’s aid. The school was barely 500 metres away and Dawood made it to the ground in no time.

  Dawood reached the playground and was taken aback to see his worst fears coming true. One of the boys had hit Sabir on his head with a stick from behind. This sudden assault had startled Sabir and he had fallen down. As he plummeted to the ground, other boys who had been hiding appeared and began showering him with kicks and punches. Sabir screamed helplessly, desperately trying to protect himself.

 

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