Author:
Publication: The Indian Express
Date: October 11, 2001
URL: http://www.indian-express.com/ie20011011/op1.html
The second part of the extracts
from prison notes reveals how the Black Tuesday suspect got his first hostage
In September-October '94, Sheikh
combs Delhi to kidnap foreigners as part of the conspiracy to force the
release of Jaish chief Masood Azhar. He catches a Briton but loses an American
The beggar at Nizamuddin
The next day, I was at ISBT when
I saw a foreign chap wandering about. I asked him where he was going. He
said Dehra Dun. I quickly made up my mind. My experience with Akhmir had
shown that journeys together gave an excellent opportunity to initiate
friendships. So I said, ''What a surprise - I'm going there too!'' and
got with him on the bus. His name was Richard and he was a British student
who had arranged to have teaching experience at Doon School, Dehra Dun.
He will be a teacher there now. By the time we got to Doon School, I had
not only initiated a friendship - I had put forward the idea of spending
time together touring India. I spent the night at Hotel Relax at Dehra
Dun but failed to start up a conversation with the foreign couple staying
there.
Back to Delhi, Shah saab told me
to leave the tourists aside and look for foreigners under the protection
of the Indian Government as he called them i.e. diplomats and engineers
based here.
One night Nasir said he was moving
out. He left. I had the room to myself. Now, since I had been in India,
the sight of emaciated beggars everywhere particularly round the (Nizamuddin)
Markaz had posed a serious dilemma for me. I had never seen so much poverty
first hand in my life before. But I had soon realised that superficial
help was only perpetuating the problem - most of the money they received
was spent on cigarettes or charas. But they were genuinely needy people.
Anyway, that night I decided that since I had the room to myself, I would
offer to share it with an old one-legged man who sat outside the Markaz.
I went and brought the old man to the room. We had dinner and I was enjoying
one of his stories when Farooq arrived. He declared that the old man had
to leave the house. I tried to reason with him but he said that my ''antics''
were putting everyone in risk. I lost my temper, packed up my stuff and
left - taking the old man with me - and telling Farooq I was sorry I had
such a cowardly set of companions.
I had taken Salahuddin and Siddique
to meet Shah saab at Jamia mosque. Shah saab talked to them in turns. He
had told me that they were suitable for sentry duty over whoever was kidnapped.
My search for foreign employees based in India took me to the Chanakyapuri
side. But I didn't see much scope since security was tight - even to my
optimistic eyes.
A house in Saharanpur
It was about the third week of September
when Shah saab told me in a Jamia Masjid meeting to bring Salahuddin and
Siddique early the next day. He said that he had finally managed to arrange
a house in a remote area in Saharanpur where the neighbourhood was Muslim
and undeveloped to the extent that it was unlikely to have an effective
system of informers. Siddique and Salahuddin were to be left in the house
and be on the ready. I was to go and see the house and cook up a story
accordingly to entice people there the same way as I had bought the Israeli.
Sultan would be taking us there and would have two pistols with him - so
we have to be alert on the way.
We got to Saharanpur, the four of
us, and from the bus stand we went by cycle rickshaw to a place called
Katha Keri. From there it was a short walk to the house. When I saw the
house, my heart sank. How the hell was I supposed to bring a foreigner
all the way here? And that unnoticed by the local people? Salahuddin was
aggrieved at the prospect of himself having to stay virtually prisoner
there for may be weeks to come. Siddique was jumping up and down in joy
and making little gestures with the pistols. Sultan beamed at me and said,
''Like it?'' ''No,'' I said sharply. He was surprised. I didn't bother
to start to explain. I'd explain to Big Man himself. But then I cheered
up. This wasn't far from Dehra Dun and I'd give ole Richard a shot any
day. So I told Sultan I wouldn't go back with him to Delhi and would go
out ''on the hunt'' straightaway.
A prospective teacher
I stayed the night with Sid (Siddique)
and Sal (Salahuddin) - and set off for Dehra Dun the next day. I met Richard
at the school and he had got over his cultural shock and was involved with
school activities such that he couldn't take time off to visit my ''relatives''.
After Richard refused, I went onto Mussoorie, the hill-station and checked
most of the hotels there but due to the agitation at that time, there were
no foreigners there at all. I stayed at a hotel in front of the mosque
there. Next morning, I went to Woodstock School - an American school situated
even higher up - and applied for a job as a teacher. I did this partly
because if I got it, I could easily bring one of my co-teachers down to
visit my ''relatives'' and partly because I wanted to see whether cutting
short my academic career had greatly affected my competitiveness on the
job-market. I had an interview with the vice-principal and I didn't get
offered the job!
So I returned to Saharanpur, spent
another night there and then returned the next day to Delhi. I went to
Kale Khan as instructed where Farooq met the next morning and took me for
the first time to Shah saab's hideout. It was between Jamia Masjid and
Turkman Gate. I told him that I had had no success with Richard and that
I was fed up this friendship business - especially with a house in the
middle of nowhere like that and that we stop wasting time and grab whoever
we needed. He told me to be patient - he was just in the process of purchasing
a van (I mentioned that we could have borrowed one a long time ago) and
in any case, he was waiting for the reports of the other channels before
he made a final decision. We finally came to a conclusion. I was to have
one final thrust at befriending foreigners and if there was no result by
the end of four days, we would carry out the snatch option.
So, next morning I left. I went
by cycle rickshaw to Turkman Gate and took an autorickshaw to Paharganj.
There I checked in at Ankur Guest House (I can't remember by what name
but I said I was from Bombay). I sat around at the four or five cafes in
that stretch, slowly sipping or eating something and gradually developed
a knack for opening up conversations. I would introduce myself as an Indian-blooded
British national who was thrilled to come to India for the first time since
he had left as a child. Then I would go on to tell them that my uncle had
died and because of some grievance against his son, he had left his village
on my name. Given that the feudal system had died out in India for a long
time - it seems amazing that the story was greeted with such credible enthusiasm
but the newly-arrived traveller to India yearns to hear extraordinary stories
which will increase his insight into this strange and colourful culture.
Early sightings
I made several acquaintances and
convinced a British chap called Trevor to come to the village after a few
days. But the strongest friendship by far was with Rhys Partridge and Graham
Fox - we had many common interests like chess, travelling and writing.
Both were fascinated by the village phenomenon. On 28th, I went to meet
Sultan as planned at Tilak Bridge. This is the first time I saw the van
and driver - which Sultan had brought with him. We sat inside and drove
off to a car park where Shah saab and Carrie joined us. We drove around
and picked up Farooq somewhere and then went to some lawns. We prayed.
The driver didn't pray - this made me suspicious. What was he? Then we
sat down and I excitedly told them I had two chaps ready, the story I had
told them, and the acting which would have to be done by my companions.
Shah saab then detailed the procedure. He said that Sultan would accompany
us and once we got to Saharanpur, he would be in charge and I was not to
interfere in the chaining up of the hostages. Then we made a collective
prayer for the success of the operation.
When I went to meet Graham and Rhys
at the restaurant, I was a bit taken aback because Graham's girl friend
Kate had come and she thought she was coming the next day also. I'd later,
when I was playing chess with Rhys, mentioned that the village elders might
not appreciate a girl accompanying us. He must have passed on the message
- because next morning Graham said that he was sorry - he and Kate had
changed their mind.
After taking Rhys to the Saharanpur
house, I started explaining to him the facts of life. I told him that I
was a revolutionary and was here in India for a specific purpose and I
wanted him to help me in that purpose. He asked what I meant. I said I
wanted him to be our guest while we negotiated with the British and Indian
Governments. I was trembling at that moment. In a short time it was probably
the strongest friendship I had made for a long time (there is a great difference
between comradeship and friendship) and all of a sudden the reality hit
me.
''If this is a joke,'' he said angrily,
''It's a very poor one. I get very upset at these things.'' The aggressiveness
towards me made it a lot easier. ''I'll show it's not a joke,'' I said
simply. ''Come in you guys.'' And in rushed the three - Sultan, Sid and
Sal - brandishing the two pistols. Sultan growled, ''You are under arrest.''
Sid and Sal said, ''Hands up.''
''All right, all right,'' said Rhys.
He looked at me and said, ''Can I buy my way out of this.'' I started explaining
gently that he hadn't understood the situation but Sultan cut me short.
It wasn't until Rhys' ankle had been chained and Sultan had left that I
got a chance to explain to Rhys what was going on. I assured him that he
was not in any danger unless he tried to escape. Naturally, though, he
was still very scared. I took his passport details and left the next morning
for Delhi.
Next morning Amin came to me and
said Shah saab would meet me in Nizamuddin Markaz in an hour's time. He
asked me, ''Has the work been done?'' I said, ''Yes, it has.'' In the meeting,
Shah saab ticked me off saying I should have replied, ''What work?'' and
shrugged my shoulders. Though I never really agreed with Shah saab's way
of doing things - I thought all this hush-hush nonsense was unnecessary
- I thought that Shah saab cared about me, almost in a fatherly way.
The search for an American
Shah saab's next instruction was
to hunt down an American. I set off for YMCA. By evening I had established
rapport with a chap I thought to be American and had told him about my
village when to my annoyance, I found out he was German. I was about to
leave when an American joined in the conversation. The American had been
teaching English voluntarily and was leaving India because of lack of funds.
I turned to him and said, Hey, I needed someone to teach English at my
village school. He was happy at the prospect especially since I mentioned
monetary consideration but said he had a few things to do in Delhi first.
I arranged to meet him a couple of days hence and confirm the details.
When I spoke again to the American whose name was Daniel Skinner, he agreed
to accompany me the next day. So the next morning, round about the 5th
October, I told Shah saab at the Markaz about the developments. He was
pleased. He told me to return to the Markaz at 1 p.m. where Amin would
be waiting for me. He said he himself would make his way to Saharanpur
and wait for us.
At 1 p.m therefore I made my way
to the Markaz from where Amin took me to the van. We made our way to the
YMCA. I got off and told the driver to return in half an hour. When Daniel
and I came out complete with Daniel's luggage, the driver took a good 15
minutes to come. He was alone. We sat down and started off for Saharanpur,
but before an hour had passed Dan asked to get off for cigarettes. We stopped
the car and he got off with his bags and said he thought he'd better stay
in Delhi for a few days more. ''What's the matter?'' I asked in a surprised
tone. ''I've only known you two days,'' he said. ''And all of a sudden
I'm in a car with you.''
I told the driver that we had changed
our programme and that I would go to Saharanpur alone. He was surprised
and asked why but I carefully hushed him up. The words ''I've only known
you two days and all of a sudden...'' were ringing in my ears and I became
paranoid that the driver was an agent of the enemy. It was a tense remainder
of a journey. When we got to Saharanpur, we parked the car and made our
way by rickshaw to the house. I would have told the driver to stay and
wait in the van but he was very ill.
When we got to the house and knocked,
Siddique opened the door and respectfully bowed. I slapped his head and
said 'Don't bother. I got him to open the front room door and took the
driver in. And he immediately lay down on the rug. Then I went inside.
Shah saab was alone. ''What happened,'' he asked. I told him. To my surprise
he started laughing. ''Bachoo, you must have said something to him to make
him suspicious,'' he said. ''Well, you just have to get another.'' I told
him also what I suspected of the driver. At that he was impatient and said
that he knew what he was doing - did I take him for a fool?
I went to talk to Rhys after that.
He had calmed down considerably. I told him about the American and he was
pleased that someone had outsmarted me.
I went around this time to the universities.
I went to the international student house of Delhi university with no luck.
At JNU, however, after much wandering about, I learnt of an American by
the name of Michael living in Vasant Kunj. I went to the apartment he was
sharing with four others but he had gone away on a trip. I took the phone
number. I went back to YMCA to see if Daniel Skinner was still there. But
he had left and so had most of the other foreigners there. Back therefore
to Pahargunj - but Swiss, Dutch, Australian, Canadian... not one single
American! I told Shah saab that I had combed the whole of Delhi. He said,
OK, more Britishers or a Frenchman would do.
So, reluctantly, back to Pahargunj.
And who should I bump into but ole Graham. He asked me how it had all been
and I said terrific, Rhys had thoroughly enjoyed himself and was now in
Manali. And ironically, it was Graham who introduced to me later in the
Hare Krishna restaurant to Paul Rideout and Christopher Morston. I didn't
have to go through the old village story because Graham told it for me.
We played a game of chess and I offered Paul and Chris, who had just arrived
in India, to take them to see the Red Fort. We went, the three of us, and
when we got there, there was a festival going on, the one with the big
icons. I managed to take them right through the VIP section and they were
thrilled as well as convinced that I was from a well-connected Indian family.
(Tomorrow: The American hostage
and the ransom demand)
