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Authors: S. Hussain Zaidi

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In the meanwhile, he was trying to court a girl. The girl was interested in Rajan and thought of him as a hard-working, honest man. But many a girl has the mistaken perception that she must be wooed by a flashy lifestyle. So, Rajan also wanted to lead a luxurious life and throw his weight around, to drown her with gifts and marry her and settle down. But when he realised that his meagre salary would not be enough to woo his girlfriend the way he wanted to, he tried to moonlight in several odd jobs like waiting tables and running errands for offices, but he really could not do much with his limited skills.

One day, with his girlfriend’s birthday approaching, Rajan became desperate. His salary was a long way off and when he asked for an advance, his bosses refused. Hopeless and despondent, Rajan decided he had no option but to steal. He stormed into the office and picked up the only valuable thing in sight—a typewriter. Rajan lifted the typewriter, put it in a gunnysack, and made off with it. He sold the typewriter in Bombay’s Mutton Street, known as Chor Bazaar, and got a good 200 rupees for it; with this he could get a saree for his girlfriend.

Rajan soon realised typewriters were used in all offices in Bombay and that the better or more sophisticated they were, the more the money they fetched. He did not have big dreams. He could have spent a lifetime stealing typewriters and make money off them, in a small-time racket.

But his luck was not to last long. When the police went to Chor Bazaar as part of another case’s investigations, they were told that all their typewriters were sold to them by a South Indian guy who came every week with two typewriters.

The cops kept a watch on this Chor Bazaar vendor for a few days. When Rajan Nair came by with his weekly two typewriters, he was arrested. The Bhoiwada police made a very strong case against him, and he was convicted and sent to prison for three years.

Rajan’s life changed completely after the jail sentence. When he returned to his house in Ghatkopar, he decided to form a gang. Within months, the Golden Gang was created. The gang ran its empire in the north-eastern suburbs of Bombay which consisted of Ghatkopar, Chembur, Vikroli, Mankhurd, Bhandup, and the nearby areas.

They began with extorting money from shopkeepers, restaurant owners, taxi-drivers, rickshaw drivers, and others. Within a couple of years, Rajan became a formidable force and the Golden Gang became an entity. Rajan soon enlisted the services of a good man, Abdul Kunju. Kunju was a brilliant student of Anjum-e-Islam High School but he soon realised that his academic achievements would not be as rewarding as the support of Rajan
anna
(a South Indian term for big brother). He became a trusted aide and a right-hand man for Rajan, who in turn became increasingly dependent on Kunju.

Smarter than Rajan, Kunju soon capitalised on his talent for scheming. He soon developed a subsidiary gang of his own in the Shell Colony near Tilak Nagar and became a force within a force. After a while, he grew so strong that he challenged his own mentor, Rajan Nair. In doing so, he chose the time-honoured way of proving his mettle; he courted, won over, and eventually married Rajan’s girlfriend, the very same woman who had supposedly inspired Rajan into taking up a life of crime.

Rajan was distraught and utterly humiliated. He fumed and fretted and swore a bloody revenge on Abdul Kunju. When Kunju was detained under the National Securities Act (NSA) in 1979, he saw his chance; his gang attacked Kunju’s gang members and beat them up. Rajan also unsuccessfully attempted to abduct Kunju’s wife, his old flame.

Kunju was helpless in jail and Rajan was slowly and effectively eroding his base. Kunju decided to take matters into his own hands. When he was being taken to Vikroli court, he threw chilli powder in the eyes of the policemen escorting him and escaped. After days of playing hide and seek with the police, when the matter cooled down, Kunju returned to Ghatkopar. Soon, he sent Rajan a message; he wanted to meet him now.

Rajan and Kunju did not want a direct confrontation at this time, so the feuding stopped for the moment. Both of them waited for an opportunity to hit out at each other, when time would give them an advantage over their opponent.

When Dawood, who had become a notorious underworld figure by then, met Bada Rajan at Musafirkhana to speak of avenging his brother’s death, the former typewriter thief was in awe of him. Rajan had visited Musafirkhana only with a couple of Dawood’s close cronies, who included his most favoured protégé Chhota Rajan. It was then that the two Rajans were exposed to the clout and power of Muslim mafia in the city.

Rajan Anna could never have imagined that a don like Dawood would need his services. During the course of several meetings, Dawood opened up and revealed the nature of his trauma to Rajan Anna in an unguarded moment.

It was never hard to understand Dawood’s motivation to destroy the Pathan gang. They had done the unforgivable. Sabir’s death was the death of a substantial portion of Dawood’s emotions. He was living a nightmare. Facing his parents after the wanton murder of their eldest-born was something even Dawood could not do. He was seething; he had always looked straight into everyone’s eyes and now he could not even face himself. He sought to calm himself down but here was only one thing he could do: kill Amirzada and Alamzeb.

He turned to Bada Rajan for solace, and the man, honoured to be trusted with this task, soothed him and told him not to worry. He took it upon himself to find a man for the job. As the don of Tilak Nagar in Chembur, he did not have to look very far. He shortlisted two local candidates for the job; one, a small-time offender called Philips Pandhrey and the other, a wastrel and loafer called David Devasayan Pardesi.

Pardesi was a 24-year-old good-for-nothing, without a job, family, or a life in general. He survived on alms or the odd job. Work as a means of living was an idea that did not seem to occur to him. Rajan’s eye was on this drifter, as the man for the job. Bada Rajan concluded that as Pardesi was pretty much expendable, he would be the man to shoot Amirzada dead in Bombay city court.

30

Pardesi Kills Pathan

H
is heart was thumping loudly. His throat was parched, his breathing irregular. His legs were quivering and he felt as though he was going to collapse any minute. For Pardesi, everything was a blur, even if things were moving in slow motion. He was finding it difficult to focus and equally difficult to hold his gun.

The brief Pardesi had was clear: he was supposed to shoot Amirzada and then jump out of the window. Pardesi clearly had no reputation as a sharpshooter. In fact, he did not even know how to hold a gun.Moreover, the thought of killing someone in broad daylight in a courtroom was preposterous. No one could imagine that someone could pull out his gun and shoot a gangster dead, with the tight security in place. Court shootouts were unheard of in India in those days, it was a willing suspension of disbelief usually associated with Hollywood melodrama.

Rajan was fully aware that there was no way to escape the court after a shootout. He also knew that once the police got their hands on Pardesi, the story would end right there. Pardesi had no family, hence no one would come to collect the money, nor would he have to deal with a distraught mother or sister. And Pardesi would ensure that Amirzada was out of the way. He could not think of a more foolproof plan. Hence, Pardesi, expendable if inexperienced, was commissioned.

Pardesi had been taken to Ulva village in Uran. Ulva was a community of Konkani Muslims who regarded Dawood as one of their own. Its hills afforded seclusion and the shots of a practising shooter were likely to go unnoticed here. However Pardesi, in his trademark style, had not done anything constructive at the range. He had just fiddled around with the gun long enough to get used to the recoil. He lived off Dawood Ibrahim’s money and rested most of the day, a life he was easily suited to. From time to time, Dawood Ibrahim would irritably enquire about the progress of the new trainee and Rajan would soothe him into silence. Dawood firmly believed Pardesi was no good and made his displeasure apparent on several occasions. However, Pardesi’s utility still served to seal the deal. Pardesi was a marked man with numbered days, but he was blissfully unaware of it.

Finally, Rajan decided it was time. On 6 September 1983, David Pardesi was taken to the city court at the City Civil and Sessions Court. He was uneasy and sweaty. Wearing a loose shirt and trousers with his gun tucked in under his shirt, he walked around the courtroom ill at ease. The one thing that he did right was to evade attention. No one noticed the nondescript man walking around the courtroom. When the judge called for order and asked for Amirzada to be led into the courtroom. Pardesi took his revolver out.

He tried to adjust his position to get a clear shot but all he could see were the heads of policemen. He had been given strict orders to shoot to kill. Pardesi was supposed to jump out of the first floor window into the waiting jeep, after shooting. Rajan, his driver, Balaram Venugopal, and Ali Antulay were waiting below the courthouse to ensure that he did not end up in the policemen’s hands.

Pardesi’s mind was blank as he tried to take aim at Amirzada. The policemen in front of him moved and suddenly, he managed to focus on Amirzada’s forehead, and fired. There was a dull boom in the courtroom and Amirzada collapsed, in the middle of his cordon. Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom as people ran in all directions and the police tried to contain the situation. For a few moments there was utter chaos and Pardesi turned to run. However, Sub-inspector Ishaq Bagwan had caught sight of him. He whipped out his gun and fired. He took aim at Pardesi’s neck and got him. Pardesi was down—injured but not dead.

Bagwan rushed him to the nearby JJ Hospital. Meanwhile, Rajan’s men waited long enough to ensure the target was dead and rushed off. They assumed that as Pardesi had been shot, he would die too. But Pardesi survived; his injuries were not fatal.

Pardesi made no show of bravado. He was not a gangster. He just wanted his nightmare to end. At the first suggestion of SI Bagwan, he turned into a police witness. He gave testimony against Rajan and Dawood, implicating both of them in the murder of Amirzada. Subsequently, Bada Rajan and Dawood Ibrahim were arrested. For Rajan, this had become a death warrant, as being a much smaller fry than Dawood, he did not enjoy the kind of protection as Dawood did, and could be bumped off easily once out of jail. For Dawood, it meant that Bombay was no longer safe for him.

Bagwan took Pardesi under his protection and helped him start life afresh. But once an enemy of Dawood, an enemy of Dawood forever. Dawood pursued him everywhere. Pardesi subsequently married and moved to Dubai, where he sold audio cassettes. But he was forced to flee from Dubai too, and returned to Bombay. Finally, after a few years, he was found dead under mysterious circumstances in a hotel in Bombay.

The way Dawood pursued Pardesi until the end is an example of how vindictive he could be. Pardesi had served his purpose yet he hounded him because he had let Dawood’s name slip. Dawood never forgave or forgot even the smallest of betrayals.

31

Circle of Revenge

T
he Pathan syndicate was wild. They could not have imagined that a rookie could just walk into a courtroom and kill Amirzada in such a brazen manner. At the face of it, they presumed Pardesi belonged to Dawood’s gang. But on the discovery that a small-time thug like Rajan Nair was behind the killing, they were more outraged than enraged.

They had to take revenge and they had to kill Rajan Nair, as a response to the murder of their brother. Initially, Alamzeb himself wanted to pull the trigger. But Karim Lala convinced him that if he tried doing such a thing in the courtroom, he would not survive, as this time the cops would be more alert.

For days, they schemed, but to no avail. Karim Lala was very fond of Amirzada; a Pathan baccha, a Pathan boy born in the same land as him. He could not jeopardise another clan member’s life now. He decided that the best way to avenge the killing would be without putting another Pathan’s life in danger. And the only way to go about this would be to hire an outsider.

The Pathans did not have to work too hard to identify the right candidate. Soon they found the man for the job: Abdul Kunju. He had, of course, been an arch-enemy of Rajan Nair’s for a long time, as double incentive.

A message was dispatched to Kunju, summoning him to come and meet the Pathans in a hotel at Nana Chowk. When Alamzeb approached Kunju, he was delighted. Kunju had always wanted to kill Rajan and had been waiting for just such an opportunity and backing. With gangsters of the stature of the Pathans offering to join hands with him in killing Rajan, he was getting a great bargain.

Kunju was a brilliant planner. It was for this reason that he had managed to upstage his former mentor in many ways. He told Alamzeb, ‘
Bhai, apun Rajan ko courtroom mein-ich marenge. Jaise usne aapke bhai to mara
[Bhai, I will kill Rajan in the courtroom itself just the way he killed Amirzada].’ This was the only way the cycle of revenge could be completed.

Kunju also pointed out there was no point in hiring a professional hitman, as whoever pulled the trigger was sure to be caught. The police could not afford to be caught napping a second time.

Kunju was confident that the task of locating a triggerman would be quite easy; Rajan had many enemies. They just had to locate one of them. Abdul Kunju personally launched a manhunt for someone who could kill Rajan Nair in court. After a couple of days of intensive search in the Ghatkopar area, Kunju and his men found a rickshaw driver called Chandrashekhar Safalika.

BOOK: Dongri to Dubai
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