Mafia Queens of Mumbai

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘I have decided to change my name,’ she said calmly.

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘After yesterday’s encounter with Gawli, I have realised that these Hindu gangsters don’t trust Muslim women easily. I need to have a name that sounds more Hindu,’ she said.

  I pointed out that Gawli himself had married a Muslim woman.

  ‘But even she has a Hindu name now,’ she retorted. ‘I met her. Her name is Asha and she is a Hindu now.’

  ‘So have you thought of a name?’ I asked.

  "No, not yet,’ she said, and then, after a pause, ‘It is my dream to kill Dawood. It is the only thing I think about night and day.’

  ‘How is that related to this?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s my sapna ... I think I’ll call myself Sapna ... dream ... and Sapna, after all, is a name acceptable to both Hindus and Muslims,’ she said.

  ‘Not bad,’ I said, adding, ‘so from today Ashraf is Sapna. To celebrate, we should both eat biryani.’ She laughed. I was happy for her.

  From then on, Ashraf began to be called Sapna. She used this name when dealing with Hindu gangsters and the Mumbai police.

  Even before I realised it, Sapna had made major inroads into the underworld. She would move around the dark streets of Mumbai well past midnight and build on contacts that I initially helped her out with. She collected details about the dance bars and gambling dens in the city, and the moment she realised that they were in some way or the other connected to the underworld or Dawood, she would tip off Crime Branch officers.

  All this while, Sapna refused to reveal her identity to the cops. She preferred anonymity and would only divulge information on the phone, calling them from telephone booths across the city. She even refused to collect her rewards following the crackdown by the police.

  In a few weeks, Sapna managed to close down several dens in the city. During this time, Sapna was still a regular at the training sessions but apart from asking me for information on Dawood’s activities in the city, she rarely discussed how she was going about getting things done. However, my men, who had been keeping watch on her, told me what she was doing. One day, Rafeeq, one of my most trusted aides, told me how, following Sapna’s tip-off, the police had rounded up over forty persons. Tadipaar* orders were served to around twenty of them, and several others were still in trouble. He also told me that two of Dawood’s gambling dens had been sealed by the police.

  In three weeks, Sapna had managed to do what I would have never been able to do. Before she put herself in a more dangerous position, I decided to talk to her as she had unknowingly been gaining enemies.

  We decided to meet for dinner. I had already reserved a table for two at my favourite Iranian restaurant. When I reached the AC room, it was empty except for a family with annoying kids hovering around. As expected, Sapna, who for a change was dressed in a burqa, was already there.

  After we’d said our salaams and ordered our food, I decided to broach the subject. ‘Ashraf, there is something I need to talk to you about.’

  ‘Sapna,’ she corrected.

  ‘Okay, Sapna. I’ve heard of your work as an informer. I also heard that you’ve been doing a good job.’

  ‘Yes, if it all works as I planned, we will be able to get the person we want soon,’ she said.

  "No, Sapna, unfortunately that is not true,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, startled.

  You don’t know the risks involved in your job. You are still fresh in the business; it is beside the point that you have started off very well,’ I explained.

  ‘I know the risks. I have already been attacked twice.’

  ‘What? And you chose not to tell me this?” The spoonful of rice I had just eaten almost choked me.

  ‘It is okay ... with your training I managed to stop them. I kicked the rascals in their manhood. They were at a loss for words.’

  ‘And you escaped?’ I asked, relieved but annoyed.

  ‘How do you think I am having dinner with you?’ she mocked, and continued to eat her food.

  I had to bring her down to earth. She did not know what she was doing, and by the time she realised it, it could be too late. I was too fond of Sapna to lose her to her own stupid actions. And perhaps, I was upset that she didn’t seem to need me much anymore.

  ‘Are you mad? When will you grow up, Sapna? Do you think Dawood is going to feel the pinch if you bust his gambling and dance bars business? He is too big. All he has to do is shoot you in the head and your story will be over,’ I said angrily. ‘Most of his money comes from protection and extortion rackets. Have you managed to trace these rackets?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why are you rejoicing?’ I asked.

  ‘I’il be able to trace them if you stop yelling at me and guide me instead.’

  ‘You think if I knew this, I’d spare him? It is done through hawala and not easy to trace. But I recently got a tip-off on Dawood’s arms consignment and fake currency racket. And from what I know, this involves big money.’

  ‘What about it?’ she asked excitedly,

  "Normally, most of the arms and fake currency comes to Indian from Pakistan but via the Kathmandu border. I know of some people like Ram Singh Bahadur who is well-connected and knows where and when Dawood’s consignment will come in. Are you interested?’

  ‘Do you mean we go to Nepal?’

  Yes. I have a plan. All I want to know is whether you are game for such a huge assignment. Even if we manage to plunder one or two of his consignments in Nepal, we can cause immense losses to Dawood,’ I said. ‘And then he will know we are in the fray.’

  *Removed from the city, ‘tadipaar’ in police lingo.

  Chapter 5

  THE MACABRE EXCURSION

  T

  hat Sapna was willing to travel across the border with a man other than her husband spoke of her determination to achieve her goal,

  I called a friend of mine, Ram Bahadur Singh, and he told me that he had learned about a weaponry consignment being channelled to Kathmandu later that week. This meant that we would have to make our plans and act on them quickly.

  Sapna and I decided to take a route that would enable us to intercept the consignment after it passed Kathmandu, somewhere in the hilly regions of Birganj, where the Border Security Forces would be less concentrated. In order to familiarise ourselves with the place, I decided that we would first go to Kathmandu via Birganj, gather some intelligence and then return to Birganj, where we could intercept Dawood’s consignment.

  But the journey to Birganj was going to be arduous; we would first have to travel to Raxaul, a small town in Bihar, and then take the bus to Birganj. Raxaul is also the hub for cross-border smuggling—be it arms, electronic goods, drugs or fake currency, you could find everything there.

  I cannot forget those few days that I spent with Sapna. The journey was tiring but every second spent with her was worth its weight in gold. Before this, I had never really cared for any woman. With Sapna it was different, because though I always wanted to make love to her, I realised that I wanted more; it went beyond lust.

  During the journey, Sapna spoke to me about a lot of things, like her life after Mehmood, her plans to remarry, have children, etc. It was the first time she opened her heart out to me. She was no longer a grieving widow and I began to see that there was more to her, apart from her determination to avenge the death of her husband.

  Also, unlike before, she was interested in finding out about me as a person, rather than someone who was just there to help her accomplish her goal.

  ‘Why do people call you Hussain Ustara? I mean, when Usmaan bhai first told me about you, I thought that you had a scar on your face or something,’ she said.

  I liked it that she was curious about me.

  ‘The truth is that I was never scarred. Others gave me the name after an incident that dates back to some two decades ago,’ I explained.

  ‘What happe
ned then?’

  ‘I was about fifteen then, and into picking pockets. A gang of us would jump into crowded buses, trains, theatres and do our work—and mind you, I was among the best of the lot. The cops would rarely catch me. Once, I got hold of a lot of cash. Tempted, I only gave part of my day’s collection to my ringleader, who took stock of the money we made on a daily basis. But when he learned how I had duped him through one of my friends, he beat me up. I tried retaliating with the help of a few others and it blew up into a full-fledged skirmish inside the club where we had assembled.’

  ‘Then?’ she prompted.

  ‘Then ... then when I realised that things were going out of control, and I had no means to escape. I removed my razor from inside my pocket and attacked the ringleader. I managed to inflict a wound that began at his neck and ran right to his crotch.’

  ‘Yah Allah. Are you serious?’

  I nodded. ‘He was bleeding a lot and I managed to get away. He was taken to a hospital and the doctor there made a strange remark. He said that the person who had cut him had done so with surgical precision. And soon, before I could realise it, the name Ustara got stuck to my name. From then on people started fearing me, all because of that small weapon ...’

  When we reached Kathmandu, I introduced Sapna to Raamu and Chaamu Singh, my friends from Nepal who often supplied me with weapons. I wanted to check the accuracy of the intelligence about Dawood’s consignment that had been given to me by Ram Bahadur Singh. Bahadur was right. Chaamu Singh told me that Kim Bahadur Thapa, Dawood’s trusted lieutenant who operates from Mumbai’s Matunga area, was supposed to send some consignment to Raxaul via Birganj. And that one of their men would be at the border to collect the consignment, which would reach Birganj in the next three days. This was the right time to hit out at Dawood. I sat down with the three of them and drew a rough chart, planning where we would intercept the arms consignment. We decided that we’d get down a few kilometres before Birganj and walk the rest of the distance, taking the kachcha road through the mountainous terrain. I personally felt that it would be easier to hide near the hillocks and seize the consignment that would be transported to the borders using mules or donkeys. The others agreed. ‘Will this affect Dawood’s business?’ Sapna asked.

  ‘No, not so soon,’ I replied, and explained to Sapna that while the seizure was big, it would take a few more such attacks before Dawood would feel the hole in his pocket and be alarmed.

  After two days, which we spent working out the details of the heist, we headed for Birganj. Raamu Singh drove us in a car to the spot we had decided on. From there on, it was only Sapna and me. We walked on the rough terrain of Birganj for some time and finally managed to find the route taken by smugglers. We chose to hide behind a massive nine-foot rock. All that we had with us were some dry fruits, water-bottles, a torch, a long rope and our automatic pistols. I knew that the wait was going to be long.

  At around 5.30 in the evening, I heard the sound of hooves. I peeped around the rock to see three Nepali men with donkeys that were carrying heavy loads on their backs. One of the gunny sacks was pointed at both ends. There was no doubt that AK-47s had been rolled inside it. This had to be them,

  I shook Sapna by her shoulders; she had drifted off to sleep. When she opened her eyes, I pulled out the German Mausers from my bag, loaded the magazines and handed one to her. Again, I looked around the rock and this time spotted a heavily-built, dark man behind the Nepalis.

  I gestured to Sapna to stand behind me. The noise of the hooves began getting louder; now we could also hear the men whisper in their local language. I held Sapna by her hand and slipped out from our spot to face them. I withdrew my hand from hers and pointed my gun at them. She did the same. The men, as expected, were taken aback. They looked at each other before one of them fearlessly came forward.

  ‘Whoever you are, back off or you will simply get yourselves killed,’ the man said in broken Hindi.

  I took a few steps forward and released my right hand from the grip of the gun to slap him hard across his face. ‘The gun is in my hand, so don’t threaten me with death,’ I said, holding him by the collar. The other men remained still.

  Suddenly, my head exploded with pain: someone had come up from behind and hit me with something. I fell to the ground, face-first, one of my hands reaching for my head. I’d managed to retain my grip on my gun, though.

  When I turned around, a huge man came up and stood astride me, his legs holding my body still. He was the same man I’d seen walking behind the others—I hadn’t realised that he wasn’t around when I had accosted them. He swung at me with the lathi he was holding and then lifted his right foot to kick me hard on the stomach. At that moment, I knew I was staring death in the face.

  The other men came up and started hitting me with their lathis as well. I tried to defend myself against the heavy charge of sticks but to no avail. Though it was impossible to escape, I did not want to die so cheaply. In all this, I had completely forgotten about Sapna. The last time I’d seen her was when I pulled her out to face the men; after that everything had happened so quickly. Sapna’s absence had not occurred to me until just then. If these bastards caught her, God knows what they would do to her.

  Still lying on the ground, I first moved left and then right, trying to locate her amidst the kicks and lashes. I couldn’t see her anywhere. Had they tied her up or had she managed to escape? Slowly, I began to feel like I was sinking; I’d stopped trying to hold off the attacking lathis, a while back. Suddenly, one of the men hit me hard on my knees and my upper body lunged forward. My eyes fell straight across, far beyond all of them, towards the donkeys that had been with them. Sapna was standing there, positioned awkwardly. I had a faint idea of what she was going to do. She must have managed to slink away while they had nabbed me.

  Sapna later told me that she had lifted her right leg and kicked the first donkey hard on his genitals, and had done the same with the other two within the gap of a few seconds. The startled donkeys—in much pain—instantly ran towards us, braying. Confused by the noise and sudden movement, all the four men moved in different directions.

  Taking advantage of the situation, Sapna fired a bullet in the air. I, too, ignoring the pain in my body, lifted myself to pick up my gun. Struggling to get a grip, I fired my gun towards the man who had earlier caught me off-guard. To my luck, the bullet pierced through his forearm. We had the advantage now.

  We asked them to drop their lathis and tied them tight to each other with some rope. I wanted to kill them but Sapna pulled me away. Leaving the men to fend for themselves, we left the place with the donkeys.

  When we reached an isolated region, somewhere in the dense mountains of Birganj, almost 3,000 metres above sea-level, we slit open the gunny sacks to discover four pistols and three AK47s. ‘We can go to Kolkata and sell this to the underworld there. We’ll make huge profits,’ I said.

  ‘I have no intention of making money with this crap.’ ‘Are you crazy? You don’t realise the money we can make,’ I said, my voice still hoarse with pain. She looked at me, and said angrily, ‘I want this stuff destroyed and I want to do it now.’ That’s impossible. Well need to go to the city and destroy the guns with the help of an ironsmith or something.’

  ‘No one is going anywhere.’ Saying this, she put all the weaponry in one sack and threw it over the side of the cliff.

  ‘How much harm have we caused Dawood?’

  ‘Like I told you before, nothing significant,’ I said, irritated. I was upset and angry that she hadn’t listened to me. We could have made lakhs of rupees if we had sold this consignment. She hadn’t even noticed that my clothes were soaked with blood from the wounds those men had inflicted on me. As if she had read my mind, the expression on her face changed. She came up to me, and for the first time, touched my face with her soft hands. ‘Sorry for putting you through all this. I don’t know how to thank you.’

  My anger melted instantaneously. ‘It is okay, Sapna. I am doing thi
s because I care for you.’

  ‘I care for you, too,’ she said. Tears of happiness rolled down her face. Her first major plan to inflict harm to Dawood had been successful.

  Chapter 6

  THE A-TEAM SPLITS

  F

  orty-eight months had gone by since our first trip to Nepal and there had been a lot of changes in both our lives in that time.

  After our first success, Sapna and I—at least for the first few months—visited Nepal often. On some occasions we failed miserably, and at others, we managed to get hold of huge consignments. Eventually—after I convinced her that the money could help in her mission against Dawood— Sapna no longer rebuffed my suggestion of selling the stolen weaponry in the markets of Kolkata and Raxaul. We were thus successful on two levels: in hampering Dawood’s business, and monetarily too.

  Then, one day, we came in direct contact with the Border Security Forces in Nepal. That encounter nearly resulted in our deaths. Fortunately, we somehow managed to escape, and Sapna decided to call off our Nepal trips for good. I was reluctant, since we were getting a lot of money this way but she refused to budge. So, after a lot of arguing, I finally gave in and agreed to keep Mumbai our sole base against Dawood.

  In Mumbai, Sapna was slowly gaining notice as the person responsible for disrupting Dawood’s businesses. She knew the Mumbai underworld like the back of her hand and was creating unprecedented fear in the minds of Dawood’s many henchmen. She had begun to play a big role in busting several gambling dens and dance bars in the city as well.

  The only major setback Sapna suffered was something I had predicted—her only legal route to justice had been quashed by the court. The Crime Branch, on the basis of Sapna’s allegations, did conduct a farcical inquiry against Inspector Amolik. However, the inspector was finally given a clean chit and her case was dismissed for lack of evidence. But Sapna never gave up. She continued to file petition after petition. She was confident that her dream, just as her name suggested, would see the light of day. I loved her too much to discourage her.