Black Friday

by S. Hussain Zaidi

  Thackeray entered in his usual saffron silk kurta-lungi with a rudraksha necklace around his neck. The beginning was cordial but slightly awkward.

  ‘I have come to you, not as a representative of a party, but as a helpless father ...’ Dutt began.

  Thackeray heard him out patiently. It took a while, and the Sena leaders waiting in the conference room got restive. At the end, Thackeray assured him that he and his party would do everything they could to help. Dutt could detect a note of sincerity in his voice.

  When he left, it was with a strange feeling of reassurance that good things would happen soon.

  Bal Thackeray began by calling up the prime minister and asking him to help the Dutt family. He issued an edict to the Shiv Sena that they were not to hold dharnas or criticize Sanjay any more and threw the support of the Shiv Sena mounthpiece Saamna, of which he was the editor, behind Sanjay. Saamna, though not taken as a serious paper, was read by everyone in Bombay to keep abreast of Sena activities. Hitherto, the paper had portrayed Sanjay Dutt as a villain. Now in a rapid volte face, they turned their venom onto another favourite, Sharad Pawar, while Sanjay was portrayed as a helpless victim.

  Jolted by the turn of events, some Congress leaders, who sympathized with Sunil Dutt but had kept silent, began advocating leniency for Sanjay. Cutting across the party lines, the stalwarts from within the film industry began rallying to Sanjay’s support once again. Dilip Kumar, Raj Babbar and Shatrughan Sinha had made several trips to Delhi and met the prime minister and President S.D. Sharma to reiterate that Sanjay’s punishment exceeded his crime. Sanjay acquired an unlikely supporter in Maneka Gandhi, a former schoolmate who was now actively involved in politics. She launched a Sanjay Bacchao Manch to demand the immediate release of Sanjay and other TADA detainees who were ‘unjustly’ languishing in jail. She met leaders in Bombay to rally support to the forum at both state and national levels in early 1995.

  After the Maharashtra assembly elections in February 1995, for the first time a stridently fundamentalist alliance—the BJP and Shiv Sena—came to power. The Congress defeat was humiliating. In the 1990 elections, out of the total 288 seats, Congress had secured 141 whereas the Shiv Sena won fifty-two. In the 1995 elections, the Congress won only eighty, while the Shiv Sena won seventy-two. Once in power, the Shiv Sena clamoured for Sanjay’s release.

  ‘It is because of that adamant judge that poor Sanjay Dutt is still languishing in the prison,’ Bal Thackeray thundered to the resounding applause of thousands of his supporters who had gathered for the inauguration of the Bandra flyover on 8 July 1995, named after his father, the late Prabhodhan Thackeray. During his one-hour diatribe, he referred to Judge Patel as ‘halkat’ (bullheaded) and biased, and claimed credit for all the moves to get Sanjay out of jail. Conspicuous at the opening was Sunil Dutt, whose name on the plaque on the new flyover was also prominent.

  During Sanjay’s second period of incarceration, a constant source of support was Rhea Pillai. They had known each other since September 1994. Like other wives and lovers, she would wait for hours outside the Arthur Road jail to ensure Sanjay’s meals reached him. When he was hospitalized at JJ Hospital in early 1995 for depression and blood pressure problems, she visited him regularly, along with his immediate family. Their relationship became the talk of the town. Despite the tension of the trial and the pains of imprisonment, Sanjay was happy again.

  However in July 1995 Rhea herself was hospitalized. Sanjay was beside himself with desolation and wanted to go and see her. He asked his lawyer Kajal Anand, who tried to dissuade him. However, Sanjay put in an application and the judge J.N. Patel, to everyone’s astonishment, granted it.

  On 22 July 1995, Sanjay went to visit Rhea at home after she had returned from hospital. He was mobbed by photographers as he left in a police van, with a police escort blaring sirens. There were consequently traffic jams in the morning rush-hour traffic, but for once no one minded. At the Mayfair building, Churchgate, there was another group of photographers. Sanjay looked clearly delighted at the prospect of spending a day with his girlfriend, family and friends.

  After this, Sanjay’s recovery from his various health problems was amazing. He exuded grit and determination to endure courageously. After Dilip Kumar visited him on 29 July, his thirty-sixth birthday, at JJ Hospital, he commented, ‘I adore and admire Sanjay Dutt for courageously standing up against all odds.’

  A state review committee instituted by the Pawar government in 1994 had recommended that the conspiracy charges against five of the defendants—Sanjay Dutt and the four who had helped him to destroy the guns: Ajay Marwah, Russi Mulla, Kersi Adajenia and Yusuf Nulwala—be dropped.

  In August 1995, the CBI filed an application in the TADA court stating that the prosecution had no objection to the release of twelve of the defendants, including Sanjay on bail. It was speculated that the highest authorities had instructed them to facilitate Sanjay’s bail. The advocate general of Maharashtra, C.J. Sawant, submitted in the TADA court in September 1995 that the charges against Sanjay and the others should be changed. They should be charged only under Section 3.5 of TADA (which pertains to unauthorized possession of a weapon in a notified area), and not under Section 3.3 (which pertains to aiding and abetting a terrorist act). This was in direct contravention of the stand taken by the prosecution. The CBI by this time was willing to relent if Sanjay asked for bail on grounds of ill health, but was furious at the volte face by the state government, as sixty other defendants could now ask for similar concessions and weaken their whole case. The date for the hearing was fixed for 11 September.

  On 11 September, there was bedlam outside the TADA court. Milling crowds extended to almost two blocks around the court, making it impossible for vehicles to move. Vandana Hotel, at the corner of the lane, was doing brisk business. There were many persons from the media, though they were prohibited from taking photographs within a fifteen-foot radius of the courtroom. Only one representative from each newspaper had been allowed into the court. Two wireless battalions of the SRP and dozens of policemen from the NM Joshi Marg police station tried to keep the crowds under control. The courtroom was bursting at the seams.

  The babble ceased suddenly when the judge began to speak: ‘Granting bail is the prerogative of the court irrespective of the no objection of the prosecution. The learned public prosecutor has come with reasons and justifications which are contrary to the law. Public prosecutors were supposed to assist the court in dispensing justice and not dispensing with justice. The prosecution’s no objection to the accused persons has been made for extraneous reasons.’ He concluded that there had been no change in fact, situation and circumstances of the applicants which would enable them to seek bail on fresh grounds.

  With the last statement, pandemonium broke out.

  Sunil Dutt instructed his lawyer, Kapil Sibal, to file an appeal in the Supreme Court. This was done within ten days to the three-judge division bench of Justices J.N. Ray, N.P. Singh and B.L. Hansaria. Sibal, a lawyer with impressive credentials, spoke eloquently before the bench on behalf of Sanjay. The judges said they would give their decision on 16 October.

  It was a pleasant morning. The huge grandfather clock at the TADA court showed it was 10.40 a.m., twenty minutes before proceedings usually began. The defendants usually started coming in from 10.30, or even earlier, to confer with their lawyers. Reporters thronged the courtroom and canteen.

  Sanjay Dutt leaving the TADA court (Courtesy Mid-day)

  Sanjay Dutt was visibly tense. He was flanked by his lawyers Satish Maneshinde and Kajal Anand, who carried their cell phones. The three-judge bench in the Supreme Court was supposed to deliver judgement on his case that day.

  Meanwhile in Delhi, Court 7 of the Supreme Court was also packed. Two of the country’s most famous lawyers, Kapil Sibal and Lalit Bhasin, were representing Sanjay. They had presented their arguments at the previous hearing and the verdict was to be delivered today.

  Reading out the unanimous judg
ement, which set aside Judge Patel’s order, Justice Ray observed that judge J.N. Patel had failed to understand the CBI’s no-objection plea in the proper perspective. Sanjay was to be granted bail, on a surety of Rs 5 lakh and on surrendering his passport to the court. He was also not to hamper the investigations or tamper with the evidence.

  Halfway across the country, Maneshinde’s cell phone trilled. It was from Delhi. He yelled in joy.

  The entire courtroom broke out in celebration. Sanjay alone did not react. He seemed shell-shocked as people came forward to congratulate him.

  It was 11 a.m. The court proceedings were about to begin. Maneshinde sought permission from the judge to take Sanjay to the canteen. Overjoyed, Sanjay was in tears. Many reporters wanted his reactions but he was too stunned to speak. The long battle was over.

  The eight-page Supreme Court order did not reach Bombay till the following evening. It was only on 18 October that Sanjay could finally leave.

  He did so in style, in a convoy of cars with friends and family. He bade an effusive farewell to the jail staff. Many well-wishers gathered to see him off.

  The cavalcade left for Prabhadevi, for Sanjay wanted to pray at the Siddhi Vinayak temple before going home. Unable to find words, he did the parikrama. After about an hour, the men in the group left for Thackeray’s house.

  At Matoshree, Thackeray came to the door to welcome them and embraced Sanjay. After that, they finally went home.

  15

  The Case Continues

  Apart from the detention of Yaqub Memon and other members of his family, there were few dramatic developments in the investigation after the CBI took over in November 1993, thought within the first month itself there was a ripple of excitement.

  On 6 December, the first anniversary of the Babri Masjid demolition, five bombs left in bags and briefcases went off in five long-distance trains: on the Bombay-New Delhi Rajdhani Express, which exploded near Kota; the Surat-Bombay Flying Queen Express, which went off near Surat; on the Howrah–New Delhi Rajdhani Express; on the New Delhi–Howrah Rajdhani Express, which exploded near Kanpur; and on the Hyderabad–New Delhi AP Express which went off soon after the train left Hyderabad. A sixth bomb had been placed in the Bangalore–Kurla Express, but an alert passenger had thrown the unclaimed bag out. The bombs were of low-intensity, and killed two people and injured twenty-three.

  There were chilling similarities with the serial blasts, and many suspected that this was a follow-up to that. The CBI was asked to look into the case, and finally the mastermind behind the blasts was identified as Dr Mohammed Jalees Ansari, a doctor practising in Madanpura, south Bombay, who was arrested by the CBI STF on 13 January 1994. Ansari was accused of involvement in the serial blasts, produced in the TADA court and remanded into custody.

  Ansari confessed that he was a member of the fanatical Ahle Hadees sect, and claimed to have organized fifty-four bombings all over the country, including many it was clearly impossible for him to have committed. His modus operandi was like that used in the three hotel bombings on 12 March 1993, where bags filled with explosives were left at key spots. However, the explosives he used were of low-intensity. At least one of his associates had been trained in Pakistan, and Ansari himself trained others in bomb making.

  Ansari remained in the custody of the CBI for over six weeks, after which he was discharged in the blasts case in February 1994. He was subsequently convicted in other cases, and sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment.

  ■

  It was January 1995. In the drab office of the CBI STF, Raman Tyagi was now an integral part of the team investigating the bomb blasts case. When the phone rang, interrupting his work, he picked it up with some annoyance.

  ‘Sahab, Salim Kurla ke bare mein,’ the caller had recognized his voice.

  ‘What about him?’ Tyagi asked.

  ‘He is in Hyderabad, I know his landlord’s telephone number.’

  ‘Give me the number,’ Tyagi ordered. He wrote it down and asked some more questions, which his informant answered.

  Tyagi called the telephone number he had been given and the gentleman at the other end confirmed that he did have a tenant, who called himself Ahmed Pasha, who matched the description that Tyagi gave him. A special team of officers was formed to travel to Hyderabad immediately. Plane tickets were booked, and other preparations made. The team left the same day, a record by CBI standards.

  However, it was not going to be that simple. The caller who had called Tyagi also tipped off Anis Ibrahim, Salim Kurla’s boss, that a police party was on its way. Anis in turn alerted Kurla.

  Kurla had been on the run since May 1993. He had first fled to Bangalore and lived there for a year. Then he had spotted a police team from Bombay and, frightened that they were looking for him, moved to Pune. But he had not felt secure there and had later shifted to Hyderabad, where he lived in a rented flat in Vijayshri Apartments near Chikoti Gardens. He had also married and had a one-year-old son.

  When Salim Kurla heard of the police party’s plans, he immediately shifted to a hotel and moved all his belongings from the flat.

  When the CBI team reached Vijayshri Apartments, Salim Kurla’s first-floor flat was locked and empty. They settled down to wait, not suspecting that he had been warned about their arrival. As the hours passed, they started discussing whether they should break the lock and enter the flat. However, eventually, they decided to continue their vigil.

  They might have waited indefinitely had there not been a flaw in Kurla’s planning: he had left his scooter behind. In the evening, Kurla hired an autorickshaw to come to his old flat and collect the scooter.

  As the rickshaw turned into the narrow lane and came up the building, two things happened at the same time. Kurla saw the waiting officers, who had made no efforts at concealment, and frantically asked the driver to turn back. The next moment, Raman Tyagi noticed that a rickshaw was turning back and dashed towards it. He had been a javelin thrower in college and his coach had commended his broad shoulders, but his athletic days were now firmly in the past. However, undeterred, he ran on.

  As the rickshaw and Tyagi raced, the machine had a clear advantage over the man though it could not move at full speed on the rough gravel. Tyagi was getting out of breath, but carried on resolutely. He noticed that the rickshaw had to take a narrow turn to reach the main road. He realized the rickshaw would slow down to make the turn, and made one last desperate effort.

  The rickshaw beat him to the turn by a split second. Tyagi suddenly remembered his coach’s words and decided to use his shoulders. He gripped the middle rod of the rickshaw and heaved with full force, yelling, ‘Ya Ali madad,’ a traditional Muslim battle cry. To his surprise, the speeding rickshaw crashed on the pavement on its side, Kurla inside screaming in agony and fear. Tyagi too fell but was promptly up to grab Kurla as he struggled to get out of the rickshaw.

  By this time, the other CBI officers had joined Tyagi.

  ■

  In August 1995, the CBI got a lead through Gujarat’s Anti-Terrorist Squad (ATS). Bombay hoodlums traditionally seek refuge in neighbouring Gujarat when their home state becomes too dangerous. The Gujarat police were also involved in the investigation of the landing of RDX, weapons and other contraband on the coast of Porbunder, Gujarat.

  One of the people named as an absconder in the blasts case whom the ATS picked up was Mohammed Salim Mira Moiuddin Sheikh, better known as Salim Kutta as he hailed from Kottanellur, Tamil Nadu. He was arrested from a village in Bijnor, UP. On interrogation, they realized that he was an accused in the blasts case. He was handed over to the CBI STF in Bombay on 20 August 1995.

  Salim Kutta’s confession read like a Bollywood potboiler. His father Mira Moiuddin Sheikh was a special Mukadam at the Bombay Port Trust (BPT). Salim had been educated at St Ignatius School, Bombay, and the Khoja Khan Mohammed Habib High School, Dongri. However, he had abandoned school and joined a bunch of delinquent children. By his teens, he was involved in several cases of riotin
g and was wanted at several police stations—Pydhonie, MRA Marg, Byculla and Colaba. In the late 1980s, he and some friends started the Arjun gang, inspired by the film of the same name where Sunny Deol and other unemployed youths, fundamentally honest and yearning to make sense of their lives, are unwittingly drawn to crime when they fight injustice.

  In 1990, his mother had to be hospitalized and Salim needed money desperately. The police were also after him. At this point he met Mustafa Majnun, Mohammed Dossa’s brother. Mustafa offered him membership of his gang, assured him of protection, and promised to pay his mother’s bills, for which he gave him Rs 5,000 on the spot. Mustafa and Mohammed Dossa had good contacts in the police department. Salim Kutta was released on bail and his mother discharged from the hospital. This act of kindness won Mustafa and Mohammed his complete loyalty, and Salim became their bodyguard. He was third in the hierarchy of their gang, after Tiger Memon and Mechanic Chacha.

  The Arjun gang still remained in existence, but Salim took up additional responsibilities such as delivering gold biscuits and silver ingots on behalf of Dossa. The gold and silver would be landed in Raigad and delivered to Dossa’s office in Nakhuda Mohallah, Pydhonie. Buyers would come there to haggle over prices.

  When Tiger Memon moved to Dubai, Salim Kutta moved into his place in the gang. According to him, what caused the rift was not Tiger’s ambition but a woman whom both Tiger and Dossa were besotted with. In the same year Dossa offered Salim Kutta a partnership in the smuggling ring. The other partners, apart from Dossa and his brother, were Mechanic Chacha and Feroze Abdul Rafiq. These three partners were to get a five per cent share each in the total amount of gold smuggled.

  Salim Kutta had participated in at least eight landings of silver at Mhasla and Dighi. He had also participated in several landings on the Mangalore coast, and was introduced to landing agents there. He also reportedly carried out killings at Mustafa’s behest.