The locals take pride in the fact that Dawood Ibrahim visited Dagdi Chawl on more than one occasion; a huge clash took place on his last visit and he never came after that day. They say the place is more secure then even Dawood Ibrahim’s Musafirkhana, on Pakmodia Street in Dongri.
Further ahead is a small locked area, which was once a dispensary set up by ABS. Then, there is the ABS office in front of the temple. The kalash on top is made of pure gold, a symbol of Gawli’s devotion. Next to the temple is a cowshed with three or four cows. The fascination with cows stems, of course, from the fact that he is a gawli, or milkman. Ironically, the dilapidated structure that has now been made into a cowshed once housed Gawli on the first floor.
Gawli would organize sabhas for people on his terrace. These meetings would go on till very late in the night and he would ensure that everyone was well fed, even if it was late. The sabha system partially continues because his daughter Geeta has taken over his mantle.
Gawli lost in the last assembly polls, leaving even his political career in a shambles, but his daughter Geeta and sister-in-law Vandana have been elected as corporators. Geeta is now trying to wipe out Gawli’s past and hopes to make a new beginning. She projects her father as a Robin Hood and a messiah for the downtrodden and poor. She claims that she joined politics in 2007 to carry forward her father’s legacy.
She thinks that Gawli has tremendous local support. ‘In the first parliamentary election that Dad contested, he won a total of 94,000 votes alone while the Congress plus NCP together managed one lakh votes. Dad was new, yet he managed so many votes. Is this not a yardstick to judge his popularity by?’ Geeta says, in fluent English.
When asked about Gawli’s crimes and about his being a gangster, she quickly retorts, ‘Everyone has a dirty past. We have to move on in life.’
Geeta meets Gawli regularly, whenever he comes to J.J. Hospital for a check-up. When she is asked why she, and not her other siblings, decided to take on the responsibility of the party, she explains, ‘Well, Mahesh has his own restaurant business. Yogesh has finished his twelfth standard. He has also done a course in automobile engineering. Yogita has done her BA in political science and plans to join politics along with me. Asmita, the youngest, is currently in the eighth standard.’
Geeta plans to approach the high court to challenge her father’s conviction. Until then, Arun Gawli will have to bide his time in jail.
EPILOGUE
The End of the Encounter Elite
VIJAY SALASKAR
Mrs Smita Salaskar is proud that her husband has become a hero of sorts. He killed more than seventy dreaded gangsters in his career of twenty-five years. However, on the fateful night of 26 November 2008, when Mumbai faced its biggest terrorist attack ever, her husband left the house abruptly and there was no time for goodbyes.
Salaskar, who was attached to the crime branch, had met Anti-Terrorism Chief Hemant Karkare and Additional Commissioner of Police Ashok Kamte near Victoria Terminus around midnight. Reports suggested that the terrorists – Pakistanis Ajmal Kasab and Abu Ismail – had gone towards Cama and Albless Hospital. Karkare, Kamte and Salaskar immediately decided to head there. Salaskar took the wheel and the others sat behind him.
As they crossed the Special Branch building and drew close to Cama Hospital, Abu Ismail and Ajmal Kasab opened fire on the police officers. Later, they pushed all three of them out of the car. Of the three, Karkare and Kamte were the first to succumb. Salaskar was still alive. One bullet had hurt him on the forearm and another had grazed his abdomen.
Perhaps Salaskar knew that his injuries were not fatal and he could survive if he got timely medical aid. He began screaming for help as he lay on the steps of Cama Hospital. ‘Mala vachwa goli laagli aahe, mala vachwaaaa! Help!’ But no one responded to his call for help.
There were people hiding in the Special Branch building. Salaskar’s cry for help could be heard far and wide. He was bleeding continuously, but no one rushed to his aid for fear of the terrorists, who were still at large. (Unsubstantiated reports say that some of his team members preferred to hide rather than rush to his rescue.) Lying alone, writhing in agony, he screamed for help intermittently as he continued to lose blood.
Meanwhile, the police control room had heard of the ambush and a police party rushed to the spot. To their relief, Salaskar was still alive and breathing. He was rushed to the nearby G.T. Hospital. The doctors and para medics immediately began working on saving him. But forty-five minutes were far too long, even for an extremely fit officer like Salaskar. Eyewitnesses say that Salaskar was still in his senses at the hospital. Though blood had drained from his body, he still communicated with the doctors and others around him. Apparently, he complained of a thick bunch of keys in the pocket of his trousers which were hurting him. He signalled with his eyes for someone to remove the keys.
Despite best efforts, Salaskar died due to the heavy and excessive bleeding. Among all the martyrs of 26/11, he was perhaps the only one who could have survived if he had been rushed to the hospital sooner. The man who had relentlessly trailed and killed seventy people, including big fish like Amar Naik and Sada Pawle, finally died a pitiful death himself.
RAVINDRA ANGRE
Though Manchekar was a big-time don, the cop who finally sent him to his grave had his own reputation besmirched in an even more sensational way. Police Inspector Ravindra Angre was arrested on 22 February 2008 after a Thane businessman, Ganesh Wagh, lodged a complaint of extortion and attempt to usurp his property. Angre was imprisoned for fourteen months but managed to get an acquittal in the case in 2009.
Angre laughed at his misfortune when he was thrown into the Anda Cell, meant for hardened criminals, in Thane Central Prison. His cell mate was Sajid Chikna, who was only too happy to see Angre. ‘Kya saab, pehchaana kya? Didn’t you want to kill me in an encounter?’ Chikna reminded Angre that he was on his hit-list, and that once, he had come very close to getting killed by Angre’s bullets.
Chikna was a well-built gangster and had a dozen cases against him, while Angre was slim and in his late fifties. Chikna’s disclosure so unsettled Angre that he could not sleep for fear of being strangled or smothered to death. The psychological stress of living with the constant fear of getting killed by someone who nursed a deep grudge against him deprived him of sleep and mental peace.
Angre eventually managed to get bail in the case from the Supreme Court on 9 May 2009.
PRADEEP SHARMA
The man who proved to be Chhota Rajan’s nemesis, Police Inspector Pradeep Sharma, was arrested and found himself languishing in prison for three years. A veteran of 111 encounters, Sharma was arrested on 8 January 2010 for the fake encounter of Ram Narayan Gupta alias Lakhan Bhaiyya in November 2006. He was accused of the deed while he was serving at the D.N. Nagar police station. Apart from Sharma, twenty-one others were arrested, including eleven policemen.
After a three-year-long trial, Sharma was acquitted by a sessions court in Mumbai on 5 July 2013.
Acknowledgements
This book is the result of the selfless contributions of several friends and colleagues, who helped without any expectation of reward or remuneration.
I must thank V.K. Karthika, Chief Editor and Publisher of HarperCollins India, for her plate load of patience. She has been a great pillar of support. My thanks also go to Antony Thomas, Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri, Shuka Jain, Jojy Philip and Rajni George.
I should thank Sandra Almeida of Hindustan Times who first edited this book, making it error-proof. She had to forego her Christmas celebrations to meet the deadline.
While I got a lot of information from the Mumbai police dossiers, the gaps were filled by several people who came to my rescue and gave me so much of their valuable time.
The list kicks off with the go-to-man-for-all-seasons, Rakesh Maria, chief of the Anti-Terrorism Squad of the state police. I am grateful to Mr Maria, whose valuable insights from his days as the first deputy commissioner of police, detection, at the cr
ime branch, paved the way for my understanding of the Mumbai underworld.
I am also indebted to Mr Maria’s deputy at the Anti-Terrorism Squad, Pradip Sawant, who was a storehouse of information on the Maharashtrian mobsters.
Pradeep Sharma, veteran of 111 encounters, contributed to this book with his anecdotes and amazing inside stories.
Credit is also due to Sachin Waze, who generously shared several documents, statements and interrogation reports of various gangsters from the Gawli and Naik gangs.
My thanks to the Mumbai police officers would be incomplete if I did not mention the late Vijay Salaskar. Salaskar shared a lot of classified information with me but with a rider that I should withhold the information as long as he was in the service. He was very concerned about my reporting on the mafia and once gifted me a small two-foot-long axe. I laughed off the threat, but he was so insistent that I keep the axe that I agreed. Eventually, I flung it into the sea after his death.
Prem Shukla, currently the editor of Dopahar Ka Saamna, who reported on crime during my time at the Indian Express, analysed for me the political angle vis-à-vis the growth and decline of Maharashtrian mobsters.
The other journalist that I should mention is Vaibhav Purandare, author of The Sena Story. Vaibhav was my colleague at the Indian Express, Mid Day and Mumbai Mirror and helped me understand the Shiv Sena’s follies and foibles.
Many thanks, too, to Sagnik Choudhary and Gautam Mengele at the Indian Express for helping me with clippings.
My appreciation and debt extend to a young team of students from St Xavier’s College, Mumbai. Dedicated work was done by Yesha Kotak, Akash Jain, Foma Ramtekke and Herman Gomes, who pored over newspaper clippings, the state police journal, Dakshata, and interviewed Geeta Gawli, Smita Salaskar and Ashwin Naik. They also made several rounds of Dagdi Chawl in Byculla and 144 Tenements in Chinchpokli. Two of them, Yesha Kotak and Akash Jain, went out of their way to finish their assignments on time. Akash was on his toes even while running a very high temperature. Yesha got me some important pictures and co-ordinated with all the other students and helmed the research work. Yesha and Akash, kudos for your good work.
Bilal Siddiqui and Vaibhav Sorte were two others from St Xavier’s and Raheja College respectively who helped me in compiling and assembling data from various police dossiers. They both spent several sleepless nights to ensure that I got the content in a consolidated lot. It was their tireless attitude and their inspiring dedication that kept me clacking away at the computer.
Kedar Nagrajan and Aashna Gopalkrishnan also chipped in by researching and scouring the Centre for Documentation at Colaba for details.
My grateful thanks to the renowned legal eagle, advocate Ayaz Khan. Khan, who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Mumbai underworld, sat with me for hours to help me understand the conspiracies behind various criminal cases.
My immeasurable thanks to my young friend Vikrant Joshi, who in his endless enthusiasm helped me set up meetings with several functionaries of the Shiv Sena. Vikrant also introduced me to senior journalist Bhau Torsekar, former editor of Marmik, who generously spent hours with me, tracing the early years of the Shiv Sena vis-à-vis the local gangsters.
My thanks also to Nadeem Inamdar of the Pune Mirror, who sent me some research material from Pune.
I would like to thank all the unnamed sources who were part of the events in the book but did not want to be identified.
No thanksgiving of mine can be complete without mentioning my friend, mentor, professor, guru, Vikram the great Chandra. Had it not been for his mentoring and hand holding, I would never have made it so far. Thank you, Vikram, for being my guiding light.
Talking about friends, I shall always remain indebted to my other teacher and mentor, Dr Shabeeb Rizvi, in whom I found a brother. Dr Rizvi showed indescribable courtesy when I visited Dubai for research and his far-reaching influence opened several inaccessible doors to me. He looked upon this book as a common enterprise and his whole family made me a part of them. His father Janab Yusuf Rizvi Sahab and his brother Ozair Rizvi magnanimously threw open their newly acquired house in Deira Dubai, where I was hosted while researching the book. Thank you, Yusuf uncle, for the generosity.
Dr Rizvi’s two magnificent sons, Rayyan and Mohsin, have helped make this a better work. Rayyan Rizvi suspended his studies and office and drove me to various nooks and corners of Dubai, braving the maddening traffic. His younger brother, Mohsin Rizvi, took time off from his work to design a great cover for the book. I will always remain indebted to Shabeeb sir for all kindness and magnanimity. Thank you, Rayyan and Mohsin. I am deeply touched.
The most crucial contribution to this book comes from my better half, Velly Thevar. She painstakingly edited the book and enhanced the narrative. She became my confidante, my sounding board, my coconspirator and my editor-in-chief in the enterprise. I humbly doff my hat to her, for being the marvellous woman and fine journalist that she is.
Narjis, with her many talents, became my assistant and secretary; she was available at all hours and kept me stress free. My profound affection for her.
My superhero sons sacrificed their outings to ensure that I could finish the book on time. Love you both, Ammar and Zain.
Sources
The primary sources for this book were essential government documents which include:
Police dossiers on various gangsters;
‘The Growth of Gangsterism in Mumbai’, a compilation by M. N. Singh, former joint commissioner, crime;
Charge sheets filed by Mumbai police in several courts, including Sessions and MCOCA;
Statements and interrogation reports of Ashwin Naik, Anil Parab, Bandya Mama, O.P. Singh, Arun Gawli and others.
I also culled a lot of information and insights into the lives of gangsters from personal interviews with several members of the Arun Gawli and Chhota Rajan gangs. I knew Ashwin Naik’s wife Neeta Naik personally and she was a great raconteur.
Anti-Terrorism Squad chief Rakesh Maria, who was in the thick of action while he was DCP, Detection, in the crime branch between 1994 and 1998, was as usual very generous with his help.
Field officers like Pradip Sawant, Pradeep Sharma and the late Vijay Salaskar were immensely helpful with their inputs and perspectives.
The early history of Bombaim was sourced from Greater Bombay District Gazetteer, 1960.
My research on the mill lands owes a great deal to Dattaraya Karve or D. K. Karve, as he is known in Bhiwandi. He was the vice-president of the Bhiwandi Textile Manufacturers Association Ltd and still lives in an old wada. In his eighties now, he took time out to speak to Velly Thevar about the evolution of Girangaon in Mumbai.
Daryl D’Monte’s pathbreaking investigative book Ripping the Fabric: The Decline of Mumbai and Its Mills was an amazing source of information on the unholy nexus of mill owners-government-gangsters.
Rajan’s interview is extracted from an exclusive by Harinder Baweja, published in India Today, 31 January 1996.
Insights and perspectives on the politics of the Shiv Sena vis-à-vis gangsters like Arun Gawli and Amar Naik emerged through extensive interviews with Bhau Torsekar, the former editor of Marmik, the Shiv Sena weekly.
The late Bal Thackeray’s decisive stance on Gawli was gathered from opinion columns by Varsha Bhosale, who quoted from a Saamna editorial: http://www.rediff.com/news/sep/12varsha.htm ‘Swimming with the Sharks’, commentary by Varsha Bhosale.
Ashwin Naik’s interview, ‘The Reluctant Gangster’ by Somnath Batabyal, appeared in The Week magazine.
Information on Ashwin Naik and his life in jail was sourced from ‘The Heart of Darkness’, a story on Tihar jail in the Sunday edition of The Telegraph, 17 March 2013. Velly Thevar interviewed him for the story.
Many of the incidents in this book were witnessed and reported by me while I was on the crime beat for the Indian Express and Mid Day
I have also referred to other newspapers including the Times of India, the Hindustan Times, Mu
mbai Mirror, DNA and websites including Rediff.com.
Akhil Bharatiya Sena chief and corporator Geeta Gawli, daughter of Arun Gawli, at Dagdi Chawl, 2013
Arun Gawli after his first arrest in 1977
Chhota Rajan in a hat, dancing to a popular Bollywood hit at a party in Dubai
Arun Gawli’s rally at Flora Fountain, attended by 1.5 lakh people, 18 July 1997
Sunil Sawant alias Sautya
Rama Naik
Bollywood sets with a Film Nagari theme at Tilak Nagar Ganeshotsav, 2013
Arun Gawli, the politician
The main entrance to Dagdi Chawl
Bal Thackeray at the Shiv Sena’s Dussehra rally at Shivaji Park. Also seen are Sena leaders Manohar Joshi and Madhukar Sarpotdar, 2008.
Maruti Infrastructure, the office of Ashwin Naik
Ashwin Naik flanked by researchers Akash Jain and Yesha Kotak
Ashwin Naik, 2011
About the Author
S. HUSSAIN ZAIDI is a veteran of investigative, crime and terror reporting. He has worked for The Asian Age, Mumbai Mirror, MidDay and The Indian Express. His previous books include bestsellers like Black Friday, Mafia Queens of Mumbai and the more recent Dongri to Dubai: Six Decades of the Mumbai Mafia, and Headley and I. Zaidi is also associate producer for the HBO movie, Terror in Mumbai, based on the 26/11 terror strikes. He lives with his family in Mumbai.
First published in 2014 by
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