08-13-2006, 11:04 PM
From Mumbai Mirror
Posting in full as it is not archived. The author of Black Friday writes how he piced together all the information for his book.
JUDGEMENT DAY
The deferred judgement of the Mumbai serial blasts of '93 by a month has S Hussain Zaidi dissecting the events that led up to the writing of his factual book Black Friday
S Hussain Zaidi
Some say that Black Friday, the book that landed me a golden ticket, by an absolute fluke, is proving a bad omen for the trial and judgement of the serial blasts of 1993. The fact that a movie based on it, directed by Anurag Kashyap, has also been jinxed, makes the argument even more convincing.
In fact, I have a confession to make. That Black Friday is shoddily written, not only in the language it employs and the inferior story-telling technique but the faulty coverage of the incident and its aftermath. It does not offer a comprehensive picture of the enormity of the blasts. The climax arrives too soon and it ends abruptly leaving the reader cheated. A sentiment shared by the entire country on August 10, when Judge Pramod Kode adjourned the judgement by a month.
My sense of pride though is derived from the thorough research and investigation; which is why the book took four years to publish. Not a single fact, detail, story or analysis has been challenged or disputed.
The beginnings can be traced back to the narration a fiction plot to David Davidar of Penguin. He wrote back asking me to try my hand at non-fiction first. The proposal submitted was entirely different from how it shaped up subsequently. As Vikram Chandra says, "Every book assumes a life of its own," which Black Friday did in more ways than I can imagine.
What I needed to understand first was that the case was multi-dimensional. Not even the lawyers or cops had the labyrinthine conspiracy all figured out. The endless transcripts, and the convoluted language they used, left me further confused. Not because of the heavy legal jargon but the way cases were made out and how the accused were bundled together, for convenience sake.
In all, 27 FIRs were registered across the city in the various police stations. The colossal task facing investigators was to justify these cases. But the more I read, the more baffled I became. As a senior cop said, "The idea is not to narrate a gripping thriller but to make a tenable case for the court." For someone who had grown up on staple diet of popular fiction like Robert Ludlum and Frederick Forsyth, I wanted nothing more than to tell a story, and tell it well.
The next step was meeting lawyers and legal luminaries, which included advocates like Ujwal Nikam, Abbas Kazmi, Majeed Memon, Shyam Keswani, Niteen Pradhan, Farhana Shah, Subhash Kanse and others. Extensive meetings with these stalwarts helped, but they were more concerned with their clients than explaining the case from a storyteller's perspective.
Following this, I met up with the law enforcers - Police officers like A S Samra, Rakesh Maria, Y C Pawar, Arup Patnaik and Hasan Ghafoor. Patnaik and Samra could hold your attention for hours, but excluding Maria, others had limited knowledge as they were restricted by their jurisdiction and association with the case. By this time I understood the case better than several police officers and lawyers.
My tiny flat at Thane and my locker at the Indian Express (I worked as senior reporter at the time) office was overflowing with papers, documents, photographs and research material.
I also met several accused like Aziz Ahmed, Salim Durrani, Sanjay Dutt, S N Thapa and others, whom I do not wish to name. Their heart rending stories of torture and agony shook me to the core but I was nowhere near getting a grip of the story.
Once, I casually strolled into the office of the Central Bureau of Investigation , Special Task Force (CBI STF). Subhash Jha, the deputy inspector general of CBI, who I met on a couple of occasions, was helpful and encouraged me to keep meeting him. Unfortunately, my work prevented this. Soon, Satish Mathur succeeded Jha. Mathur was extremely cooperative but also very busy. Much as he wanted to help, time was not a luxury he could afford. Sensing my desperation and eagerness, Mathur introduced me to his deputy, Raman Tyagi, an Ayatullah of BBC (official name for the bomb blast case). Ayatullahs are an authority in Islamic jurisprudence and Tyagi's knowledge was unparalled.
The deputy was initially resentful about a journalist being foisted on him, eating into his time, but complied as he could not refuse Mathur. Gradually, I convinced him about my intentions and swore never to give him attitude. Perhaps we struck a bond the way only north Indians can.
I found him to be the most well-informed officer in two years of investigation. Tyagi explained the case like Jeffrey Archer. Tiger Memon's desire was to orchestrate the blasts in April, but one of his trained goons, Gullu, was arrested in a riots case on March 9, 1993, so Memon decided to strike earlier. March 12 was chosen as it coincided with the Islamic date of 17th Ramzan, when Muslims first battled against pagans and emerged victorious. "Even we will defeat the kuffars," Memon instigated.
In the meanwhile, I bumped into police witness Number Two in the specially designated TADA court. The short, bearded and energetic police approver was highly intelligent and blessed with an elephantine memory. He said, "Yeh apne bhai log jo phas gayele hain, in log ko takleef nahin hona chahiye." It was an ironical request. He had agreed to squeal on his brethren but pretended to be pious.
For a late-riser like me, the approver inflicted the ultimate torture of slotting our meetings early, every Sunday at his Irla residence. With little choice but to consent, Sunday mornings soon meant little more than coffee and conversation. However, struck a quick friendship and he suggested a name for his character, Badshah Khan.
From Khan I learned that the serial blasts of '93 may have had a Jehadi tinge, but for all intents and purposes, it was Tiger Memon's personal war. It had nothing to do with Islam. "Why lob grenades on Macchimar colony in Mahim?" Because Memon suspected they had set fire to his Tejarath International office. They deserved to be similarly burned to death.
Despite seeing both sides of the coin, from Tyagi and Khan, I felt something was amiss. That's where journalists like Shubha Sharma, Prafulla Marpakwar, Sandeep Unnithan, Pranati Mehra and Sunil Shivdasani came in. Praveen Swami of Frontline, who introduced me to a former Kashmiri militant, Usman Majeed, was a great help. I travelled to Srinagar and interviewed Majeed, who disclosed a more diabolical plan. Memon and ISI wanted to orchestrate blasts in eight metros but couldn't execute them. This was confirmed by the statement of Mechanic Chacha.
After three cartons of documents, heaps of photographs, scores of audio cassettes and a few emails, everything was ready. And with several drafts of manuscripts, the picture was complete. I hoped that the judgement and the book would release simultaneously. The book was published in October 2003. The trial was over, the judgement, pending.
Deputy Commissioner of police, detection, Pradeep Sawant, gave me the biggest compliment. "Despite being in the crime branch and overseeing the day-to-day trial of the case, I did not understand it the way your book explained."
Posting in full as it is not archived. The author of Black Friday writes how he piced together all the information for his book.
JUDGEMENT DAY
The deferred judgement of the Mumbai serial blasts of '93 by a month has S Hussain Zaidi dissecting the events that led up to the writing of his factual book Black Friday
S Hussain Zaidi
Some say that Black Friday, the book that landed me a golden ticket, by an absolute fluke, is proving a bad omen for the trial and judgement of the serial blasts of 1993. The fact that a movie based on it, directed by Anurag Kashyap, has also been jinxed, makes the argument even more convincing.
In fact, I have a confession to make. That Black Friday is shoddily written, not only in the language it employs and the inferior story-telling technique but the faulty coverage of the incident and its aftermath. It does not offer a comprehensive picture of the enormity of the blasts. The climax arrives too soon and it ends abruptly leaving the reader cheated. A sentiment shared by the entire country on August 10, when Judge Pramod Kode adjourned the judgement by a month.
My sense of pride though is derived from the thorough research and investigation; which is why the book took four years to publish. Not a single fact, detail, story or analysis has been challenged or disputed.
The beginnings can be traced back to the narration a fiction plot to David Davidar of Penguin. He wrote back asking me to try my hand at non-fiction first. The proposal submitted was entirely different from how it shaped up subsequently. As Vikram Chandra says, "Every book assumes a life of its own," which Black Friday did in more ways than I can imagine.
What I needed to understand first was that the case was multi-dimensional. Not even the lawyers or cops had the labyrinthine conspiracy all figured out. The endless transcripts, and the convoluted language they used, left me further confused. Not because of the heavy legal jargon but the way cases were made out and how the accused were bundled together, for convenience sake.
In all, 27 FIRs were registered across the city in the various police stations. The colossal task facing investigators was to justify these cases. But the more I read, the more baffled I became. As a senior cop said, "The idea is not to narrate a gripping thriller but to make a tenable case for the court." For someone who had grown up on staple diet of popular fiction like Robert Ludlum and Frederick Forsyth, I wanted nothing more than to tell a story, and tell it well.
The next step was meeting lawyers and legal luminaries, which included advocates like Ujwal Nikam, Abbas Kazmi, Majeed Memon, Shyam Keswani, Niteen Pradhan, Farhana Shah, Subhash Kanse and others. Extensive meetings with these stalwarts helped, but they were more concerned with their clients than explaining the case from a storyteller's perspective.
Following this, I met up with the law enforcers - Police officers like A S Samra, Rakesh Maria, Y C Pawar, Arup Patnaik and Hasan Ghafoor. Patnaik and Samra could hold your attention for hours, but excluding Maria, others had limited knowledge as they were restricted by their jurisdiction and association with the case. By this time I understood the case better than several police officers and lawyers.
My tiny flat at Thane and my locker at the Indian Express (I worked as senior reporter at the time) office was overflowing with papers, documents, photographs and research material.
I also met several accused like Aziz Ahmed, Salim Durrani, Sanjay Dutt, S N Thapa and others, whom I do not wish to name. Their heart rending stories of torture and agony shook me to the core but I was nowhere near getting a grip of the story.
Once, I casually strolled into the office of the Central Bureau of Investigation , Special Task Force (CBI STF). Subhash Jha, the deputy inspector general of CBI, who I met on a couple of occasions, was helpful and encouraged me to keep meeting him. Unfortunately, my work prevented this. Soon, Satish Mathur succeeded Jha. Mathur was extremely cooperative but also very busy. Much as he wanted to help, time was not a luxury he could afford. Sensing my desperation and eagerness, Mathur introduced me to his deputy, Raman Tyagi, an Ayatullah of BBC (official name for the bomb blast case). Ayatullahs are an authority in Islamic jurisprudence and Tyagi's knowledge was unparalled.
The deputy was initially resentful about a journalist being foisted on him, eating into his time, but complied as he could not refuse Mathur. Gradually, I convinced him about my intentions and swore never to give him attitude. Perhaps we struck a bond the way only north Indians can.
I found him to be the most well-informed officer in two years of investigation. Tyagi explained the case like Jeffrey Archer. Tiger Memon's desire was to orchestrate the blasts in April, but one of his trained goons, Gullu, was arrested in a riots case on March 9, 1993, so Memon decided to strike earlier. March 12 was chosen as it coincided with the Islamic date of 17th Ramzan, when Muslims first battled against pagans and emerged victorious. "Even we will defeat the kuffars," Memon instigated.
In the meanwhile, I bumped into police witness Number Two in the specially designated TADA court. The short, bearded and energetic police approver was highly intelligent and blessed with an elephantine memory. He said, "Yeh apne bhai log jo phas gayele hain, in log ko takleef nahin hona chahiye." It was an ironical request. He had agreed to squeal on his brethren but pretended to be pious.
For a late-riser like me, the approver inflicted the ultimate torture of slotting our meetings early, every Sunday at his Irla residence. With little choice but to consent, Sunday mornings soon meant little more than coffee and conversation. However, struck a quick friendship and he suggested a name for his character, Badshah Khan.
From Khan I learned that the serial blasts of '93 may have had a Jehadi tinge, but for all intents and purposes, it was Tiger Memon's personal war. It had nothing to do with Islam. "Why lob grenades on Macchimar colony in Mahim?" Because Memon suspected they had set fire to his Tejarath International office. They deserved to be similarly burned to death.
Despite seeing both sides of the coin, from Tyagi and Khan, I felt something was amiss. That's where journalists like Shubha Sharma, Prafulla Marpakwar, Sandeep Unnithan, Pranati Mehra and Sunil Shivdasani came in. Praveen Swami of Frontline, who introduced me to a former Kashmiri militant, Usman Majeed, was a great help. I travelled to Srinagar and interviewed Majeed, who disclosed a more diabolical plan. Memon and ISI wanted to orchestrate blasts in eight metros but couldn't execute them. This was confirmed by the statement of Mechanic Chacha.
After three cartons of documents, heaps of photographs, scores of audio cassettes and a few emails, everything was ready. And with several drafts of manuscripts, the picture was complete. I hoped that the judgement and the book would release simultaneously. The book was published in October 2003. The trial was over, the judgement, pending.
Deputy Commissioner of police, detection, Pradeep Sawant, gave me the biggest compliment. "Despite being in the crime branch and overseeing the day-to-day trial of the case, I did not understand it the way your book explained."