[Reader-list] The Story of Salim Jaffer Sheikh

[meena menon]

Hi all,

Sorry for the delay in posting this. For a change I thought I would send one
of the interviews I did in the course of the research. This one is with
Salim who has moved out of Mumbai after the riots in 1992-93 to Mumbra in
Thane district. This is my fifth posting.
Cheers
Meena

meenamenon at gmail.com


The story of Salim Jaffer Sheikh

The ten-storied building has a small terrace, a roundish one connected by a
spiral iron staircase to the larger one down below. Almost like an eyrie,
with a view of South Mumbai.  It is a charming nook lined with bonsai and
other plants, and stone benches to sit. Above, a huge hoarding is being
built, the iron railing already in place to take the huge panel that can be
seen for miles.  An unlikely place for an interview but that is where I meet
Salim Jaffer Shaikh, 50, who earns a living in the hoarding business.

As we speak, it starts raining and we scamper down and head for the nearest
Irani hotel. From that height if Salim strained his eyes a bit he could
probably see the place where he was born, a little beyond the mess of uneven
buildings that stand in rain sodden disarray.

Tulsiwadi, the slum where Salim was born was burnt partially in some of the
worst rioting in Mumbai in 1992-93. He had a house there and ran his
business of constructing hoardings of all kinds in the city. He and his
family lived happily off that business till the riots happened. Putting up
hoardings was not the only thing Salim did. He was an active member of the
Congress party since 1975 and a part of its minorities cell. He was joint
secretary of the Malabar Hill taluka Congress Committee and knew many senior
politicians in the city and did a fair bit of social work. At one time all
you had to do to send a letter to him was write his name and the pin code.
"I would get it," he smiles. Tulsiwadi is located in Tardeo in central
Mumbai.

 "I also helped my neighbours to put up pandals during the annual Ganpati
festival and during Navratri as well we were in great demand.  Even during
Janmashtami I used to help in putting up ropes and hanging the pot of
curds." Salim's family was one of the few Muslims which lived in this
crowded settlement. "I had a lot of things since my relatives were in
Dubaiand we had a colour TV, a VCR and a lot of expensive clothes.
They could not
burn my house fully because it wad adjacent to Hindu homes. But our things
were taken out and destroyed or stolen."

When the riots broke Salim and his family went to live in a relief camp in
Madanpura. He had to leave behind all his money too. He lived there for a
month and then came back. But one thing was certain for him. He wanted to
leave his home, the place where he was born. "Where could I go, I searched
for places everywhere and we had to find something that would fit our
budget. Finally through some contacts I bought a small plot of land in
Mumbra (now an extended ghetto in Thane district) enough to build a room.
For three to four years we lived without water, lights and the place was
wild, there were snakes- I still remember once a snake lived in our house
for days," Salim recalls. His house is located three km away from the
railway station on a hillock which gets washed down in the rains. He used to
walk all the way and it is only recently that he can afford a rickshaw for
at least some of the distance.

His house in Tulsiwadi which was worth Rs 4.5 lakh at that time was sold for
Rs 1.5 lakh. People were trying to cash in on his desperation. But help came
from an unexpected quarter. A constable from Tardeo police station who knew
him said his brother wanted a place and so they did not have to give it away
cheap like many other riot victims did. "I was grateful for that money. It
got us a roof over our heads. I have four children and my wife is a heart
patient. I could find no work there. But I had to run a family. I still
remember I bought four cans of paint and some brushes and offered my
services as a painter. I did small repairing jobs. For six years I struggled
till 1999 when I got a big contract from Midday publications for Rs one
lakh. Till then I did small hoardings for shops which used to earn me Rs
1500 or less. I remember two years after the riots, once I did not even have
Rs seven with me for a train ticket."

The Midday contract changed his life somewhat.    Now he works on three four
sites. His son runs a shop in partnership near Mumbra station selling mobile
phones. He managed to educate his sons till the 12th standard and his
daughter is still studying. "We had no money for books and my children used
to be fined often for not wearing proper uniforms. We borrowed money all the
time," he says.

The other major problem for Salim was commuting. Mumbra is in Thane
district, adjoining Mumbai and to come to Central or South Mumbai where most
of his work is, he has to travel for an hour with his implements and
materials in packed trains. "All my work is in Mumbai. I carry everything
with me --heavy tools, ropes and I try and do as much of the work myself as
I cannot afford to share my profits. When I was living in Tulsiwadi I had a
store room to keep my things, I had many workers to help me put up the
hoardings."



At that time Tusliwadi must have had 4000 tenements. It was constantly under
the threat of demolition. Still for Salim it was home. Why did he go away?
"I lived for others – I knew a lot of people. I had helped them get ration
cards etc. In the riots our things were stolen and I was afraid that my
children would see others with our stolen goods. They would feel that these
were our friends and neighbours --they are wearing our clothes. There was a
lot of hatred which did not exist before. I called for many people to help
us- friends in the Congress party-now they are ministers at the centre. No
one helped. We called the fire brigade when we were surrounded and homes
were on fire. No one came. The local corporator Shanti Baria led a mob
baying for our blood, that's the time the police shot and killed her. After
seeing that at night we decided to leave. My neighbours did not reassure me
or ask me to stay back. Our area is surrounded by tall buildings. They
trained bright lamps on us- we were a cluster of houses. Those bright
halogen lamps showed up all our movements-- we were being watched. I had
excellent contacts with the police- I used to often take up issues like
drugs- brown sugar abuse was rampant in our area and some people were
unhappy with me- they used to file false cases and put me in trouble.
Despite my contacts the police did not help me."

Some of Tulsiwadi's Muslim residents sold off their houses and left but many
still live there in this Hindu dominated area. Even now when Salim goes back
people remember him.

 "When Tulsiwadi was on fire I saved so many people. I took so many Hindu
families to the relief camp in Madanpura. The flames were so high --must
have been ten feet at least. I felt the whole city could see our homes
burning. Everyone fled Hindu or Muslim and while we straggled along, the
police instead of helping us pointed their guns at us. Police said if we
were unarmed then we should raise our hands over our heads. Some of the
people had small bags with belongings--- whatever they had managed to take
out, how they could put up their hands. I had nothing; I offered to raise my
hands for everyone else. When we reached the Madanpura camp, the Hindus were
scared as they were all Muslims there. We decided to give them a separate
space and food was also served separately to them."



Salim still does not believe it was a Hindu Muslim riot. "The Hindus were
given shelter by us. It was a small group of people from the RSS and the
Shiv Sena, the Bajrang Dal who caused trouble. Everyone else was secular,"
he says. But now everything has changed. Recently he was called to Tardeo
police station in connection with a dowry death case where he had ratified a
dying declaration when  he was a special executive magistrate a long time
ago.  He could not be present in court to give evidence as he was away in
Ahmednagar. Despite telling the police he was away, they issued a non
bailable warrant against him and when he finally went to the police station
on his return, the police shouted at him and said if he acted like this they
would put him inside and charge him in the July 11 serial bomb blast case.

"The worst impact of the riots is that I have lost faith in the Mumbai
police. I still have faith in Hindus and have very good relations with them.
I blame politics for those riots and I feel they wanted to remove those
slums from there and make way for posh buildings."

"Sometimes I feel like moving out from Mumbra but I believe that once you
buy a house you must stay there always. I made an exception once but the
circumstances were different. It's uncomfortable for my wife though. She
needs another operation. But I have this firm belief that those who keep
moving homes are cheats and deceivers. I am not even in favour of changing
my mobile number."

Even now he does some social work. He enjoys political activity. Often,
Salim catches the last train home. It's empty; there is place for his stuff.
Dinner time is early morning- 3 am. His face reflects the suffering he has
undergone and he has survived at great cost. His life was one of the
hundreds which the riots turned around.

Ends


-- 
Meena
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