We had escaped from Dubai to the United States just days after the Indian police had learned of my association with Salem. In Dubai, I found out that the CBI had seized my apartment in Mumbai and frozen all my bank accounts. All my escape routes suddenly appeared blocked except for the one that led to Salem.
I was devastated when Salem revealed his real identity to me. He told me that he was a former Dawood aide and was wanted in connection with the killings of music baron Gulshan Kumar, Bollywood actress Manish Koirala’s secretary Ajit Dewani, builder Omprakash Kukreja and in more than fifty other cases.
I wondered if our bond existed anymore, since it was based on lies. However, I also knew that Salem had always been nice to me, I’d never seen his other side. I invariably saw him as a kind-hearted person, who helped people. My relationship with him was something very personal and had nothing to do with his association with the mafia. I had never even met anyone else from the mafia—he’d never introduced me to anybody. Also, even after all the lies he had told me, I realised I still loved him. And so, accepting my fate, I decided to give our relationship a chance.
Meanwhile, my parents found out about my affair through the media. Trouble intensified when the media reported that Salem and I had secretly gotten married on 20 November 2000. The news came as a big shock to my family. During the same time, my mother suffered a massive paralytic stroke and was bedridden. I wanted to speak to her but Salem warned me against calling my parents. He told me that the cops would have tapped their phone lines and that I would not only be putting myself at risk but my family as well. So, even as my family repeatedly tried to contact me, I had to keep my distance. I didn’t want them to be subjected to any kind of torture because of my foolishness.
In the middle of 2001, we moved to the US as Fauzia and Danish Beg. According to Salem, the US would be a safe place for us. In fact, after a few weeks, I too began to believe that we were better off now. Salem possessed a non-immigrant work visa in the US, which stated that he was employed as a maintenance manager for a marine engineering company. He and his first wife Samira Jumani had also made a remarkable fortune in the country. Apart from properties worth several crore, they had a two-screen theatre, a gas station and a healthy bank balance. Everything seemed to be getting back to normal for me, when 9/11 happened.
Suddenly, the US seemed like the most unsafe place to be in. A growing feeling of anger and hatred had developed among American citizens, which was evident in the incessant attacks on south Asians and the spate of arrests by the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Our lives had changed, too. In the weeks following 9/11, Salem became very anxious and insecure. He was never at peace and worried constantly that the FBI would knock at his door one day and take him away. With an Interpol notice slapped against us, Salem’s worries only increased. I realised that, behind all his bravado, there was a very timid being. I’d see him spend hours on the phone and the internet, plotting his next step.
When you live with a person for two to three days, he is always good to you. It was when I had been with him for an extended period of time, that I realised we weren’t really meant for each other. We were very different. Our mentalities and our way of thinking were also totally different. When I realised this, I told him that I didn’t want to continue living with him. I tried to explain to him that we were very different people but he shut me up every time I brought up the topic.
Then, one day, he told me about his plans to take me on a world tour. He said that he wanted to make up for all the time we had not been able to spend with each other. I could sense something fishy, but I decided to go along with the plan as I too was scared of a possible arrest. Salem’s wife Samira—for whom he had set up a home in Texas— was aware of his plans, but was not happy about his decision. Samira had eloped with him when she was barely seventeen and has a son with him. While their relationship had soured over the years and was now beyond repair, I knew that she still cared for him. They both had extensive fights over his plan, until Samira finally allowed him to have his way. I could never forget that she was still legally married to him. I tried to offer her an olive branch but she hated me for obvious reasons.
We finally went on a world tour, visiting a lot of places and meeting many people along the way. These people didn’t look at us as criminals on the run but just ordinary people. The trip did a world of good to our relationship. I still remember our six-day trip to Amsterdam. Salem had gone ahead and I followed him after a few days. He met me at the airport with a beautiful bouquet of roses. Later, in the restaurant, he constantly whispered sweet nothings into my ear. He also gifted me a nightgown, after which we made love in our hotel room. Everything was so beautiful. I was surprised by his sudden affection; I didn’t know that a man like him could also love so passionately. I could see that Salem was trying his best to woo me back into his life. In the days to come, he became more possessive and respectful towards me. And it wasn’t long before I had fallen in love with him once again.
After those memorable days in different parts of the world, we escaped to Lisbon in Portugal. Days became weeks and weeks, months; life had become one endless honeymoon for us. My parents also visited us and were genuinely fond of Salem. My Salem. Everything seemed so wonderful that I had completely forgotten the fact that we had an Interpol notice slapped against us.
Then, on the morning of 20 September 2002, the doorbell rang. We usually didn’t have people over, and if we did, we were informed beforehand. Salem told me that it would be better if I checked who our visitor was. Little did I know that I was opening the door to a five-year-long nightmare. A huge phalanx of police officers was standing at my doorstep. They had surrounded our home. Salem tried to resist but we had no option but to surrender.
After our arrest, we were kept in separate cells but were allowed to meet only once a week. The first few days were extremely rough for me. My jail inmates were very disturbing. Unlike me, they were hardcore criminals and aggressive by nature. I hardly interacted with any of them. I was also worried for Salem. I knew that the arrest would have affected him badly. He’d always been scared of being thrown into the slammer. Fortunately, unlike Indian jails, the Lisbon jail had telephones, so, even though there were restrictions, we kept in touch with each other occasionally.
To keep him in good spirits, I also began writing romantic letters to him. I used to refer to him as ‘babu’, while I would call myself his ‘gudiya’ (doll). These letters also acted as a way to channel my creativity. I wrote him poems and drew beautiful sketches of us together.
On 20 November 2002,1 wrote him a very special letter. It was our second wedding anniversary and we were away from each other. Tears rolled down my cheeks while writing to him. I was saddened by the fact that we weren’t in each other’s arms that day but instead, in different cells. I wanted him to know how much I loved him and what he meant to me. At this trying stage, I could think of no one but him.
Meanwhile, the Indian government was informed of our arrest and talks of extradition began. My family was also notified and my brother and father hurriedly travelled to Lisbon in the hope of securing my release. However, they soon realised that it would be years before they would see me step out from prison.
In 2003, a Portuguese court, where our case had come up for hearing, sentenced me to two years’ imprisonment for entering the country on forged documents. Salem, on the other hand, was sentenced to three years for entering Portugal on forged documents, two years for causing injury to a cop and resisting his arrest, and one year for perjury.
My father was visibly upset and wouldn’t speak to me, until his paternal instincts gave way and he broke down. He looked shattered. I had brought a lot of shame to the family and knew that there was nothing I could do to defend myself. The next two years in Lisbon were emotionally and mentally draining. There wasn’t a single day when I was able to sleep peacefully. The years of isolation were taking a toll on me and the battle to survive was eating me from within.
The letters to Salem continued even after my family insisted I forget him. Love only acted as a healer and I couldn’t explain this to them. However, the continued loneliness had affected me badly and I started seeking a crutch. This was when I found my calling.
The prison authorities had arranged for Christian nuns to visit jail inmates thrice a week to help reform them. I would attend their sessions diligently. It was during this time that a nun, who had noticed me sinking into my own grief, advised me to turn to Christianity. She made me read certain passages in the Bible that actually had a soothing effect on me. I was soon drawn to the teachings of the Bible. I chose not to tell Salem about my inclination towards Christianity. Salem, who is a practising Muslim, had asked me to take up his religion for his sake, and I did not want to hurt his sentiments in any way. My letters to him, though, reduced considerably and we slowly drifted apart. The Bible had given my life a new direction.
In the meantime, something unexpected happened to me in Lisbon. I had given an interview to a TV programme that focused on the lives of jail inmates. I told them my story and how I had been suffering unnecessarily. My interview was aired on a local channel and, before I realised it, I was receiving a lot of support from people. It was during the same time that my brother Bobby told me about the possibility of us being extradited to India in a few months. The nuns had told me that they were praying for me and I felt like God was answering our prayers.
However, Salem, unlike me, did not want to be extradited. He had pleaded with the Portuguese court, stating that he belonged to a minority community in India and that he feared he would be targeted. I, on the other hand, wanted to return. On 10 July 2005, Salem and I had a massive showdown. We had met outside the court after a long time. He was in a bad mood because of my behaviour over the past few months. Apart from not writing letters, I had also begun making excuses to avoid any kind of communication with him. I also refused to greet him with a ‘salaam’. He was aware of this sudden change and questioned me about it.
I don’t know what got into me, but in a fit of rage I screamed and started fighting with him. I also dragged Samira into our argument and the fact that she was still his wife. Harsh words flew like arrows between us and I came back to my cell crying. It was one of the most agonising days of my life. At night, I wrote to Salem apologising for my behaviour. I told him that I’d had no intention of picking a fight with him and that it had just happened out of the blue.
In the same letter, I decided to tell him about how I could now relate to Christianity. I explained to him why I hadn’t been referring to Allah in my letters anymore. I told him that passages of the Bible had captivated me and also asked him to turn towards God for help. I ended the letter on a very devout note saying, ‘Babu, God is calling you’. In the deep recesses of my mind, I knew that this would be the last letter I would be writing to him.
From then onwards, the Bible became a permanent fixture in my hand. I prayed night and day, asking for forgiveness and help. My prayers were finally answered. In the first week of November 2005, I was told to pack my bags for India. After a lot of legal wrangling the Indian government had assured Portuguese authorities that Salem and I wouldn’t be given death sentences or life terms if convicted. I thanked God profusely. I was now going back where I belonged.
Chapter 4
SCURRYING FOR THE
SMALL SCREEN
A
fter a half-hour’s grilling, the Intelligence Bureau handed Salem over to the CBI This was the first of the several sessions the IB would have with him. Once, with the CBI, Salem kept on pleading with officials to allow him to meet Monica privately one last time. By then, women officials from the Hyderabad CBI had also arrived. Pardesi decided to grant Salem his final request but denied him a private tête-à-tête.
And so, before Monica was taken to Hyderabad, Salem got his last opportunity to see her. Pardesi observed that while Salem tried to have a word with her, Monica showed no interest and didn’t say much except for goodbye. Then, Salem knew that she was done with him for good.
Monica was flown to Hyderabad on an Indian Airlines flight. She spent her night at the CBI office in the Koti area of Hyderabad. The following day she was taken to court, where she was remanded to judicial custody for seeking a passport under a fictitious name from the Kurnool district of Andhra Pradesh.
When she landed in India, Monica had assumed her ordeal was almost over. She did not realise that she would be taken into custody by the Indian authorities and that the judgment would lead to another extended stay behind bars for her.
For the next ten months, she was lodged at the Chanchalguda Jail in Hyderabad, with her bail pleas repeatedly being rejected by the court. Initially, even her lawyer and relatives weren’t allowed to meet her. In September 2006, Monica was sentenced to five years’ rigorous imprisonment by the special court of the CBI in Hyderabad on the charges of cheating criminal conspiracy and impersonation while securing a fake passport. Two months later, on 25 November, she was shifted to the Central Jail in Bhopal for allegedly securing another fake passport from there. All this while, Monica didn’t protest.
It was seventeen months after her extradition from Portugal before she finally broke her silence. She wrote a letter to the court from Central Jail stating that she was innocent. ‘I was very young and inexperienced and a plain and simple girl by nature. I was without a guardian in Mumbai and desired to develop my future as an artiste. I was ignorant about many evils that were prevalent in Mumbai. I couldn’t imagine the pros and cons, I never thought that for such innocence and ignorance, I would be subjected to so much suffering in India,’ she wrote.
Two months later, on 16 July 2007, the Bhopal court absolved her of all charges in the fake passport case. But Monica was only able to walk free when the special CBI court in Hyderabad granted her bail on 24 July 2007. After her release, Monica spoke at length to the media about her experience in Indian jails. ‘For the first time, I came face to face with real poverty and injustice. There were many women languishing behind bars for crimes they had never committed, while there were others who openly boasted of their criminal exploits yet managed to be set free. But my jail inmates loved me. They would cook for me, do other chores for me. I, on the other hand, would teach them to dance and give them some beauty tips. The girls were so thrilled that someone they saw on the screen was amongst them,’ Monica said.
Salem’s deepest fears came true when the starlet openly claimed that she no longer pined for him. I loved him but all his actions were selfish. He duped me. There cannot be another chapter between Salem and me,’ she said. It was clear that Monica wanted to forget her past and start afresh. Her only advantage was that Salem was still languishing in Arthur Road Jail.
But Bollywood’s very own controversy’s child didn’t seem to have seen the end of it. Exactly a month after she was released, TV channels and newspapers carried purported nude pictures of Monica, which were allegedly shot with hidden cameras from inside Central Jail. The pictures ‘horrified and pained’ the actress, she said; her right to life and dignity had been violated. India’s apex court immediately passed a judgement in her favour and restrained the media from showing the nude pictures.
Meanwhile, Monica rented a modest flat at Mulund in suburban Mumbai and began picking up the pieces of her life. She was determined to gain all that she had lost in Mumbai. During this time, she also gave a lot of interviews to the media to garner public sympathy and increase her support base. A year had passed since the ordeal but Monica was still living a life of obscurity. Then in 2008, Bigg Boss 2 happened. The reality show—along the lines of UK’s Big Brother—was launched in India, several months before Bollywood actress Shilpa Shetty won the Celebrity Big Brother title in UK in 2007. When the producers offered Monica a chance to be part of the second season of the show in August 2008, she grabbed the opportunity.
Within a few episodes, Monica managed to woo the other fourteen contestants and the audience. In one of the episodes,
she broke down and said she needed the prize money because she was leading a hand-to-mouth existence. The prize is very important. It holds a lot of meaning for me. People think Monica Bedi has a lot of money. But it is not true. I need this money to buy a home. Nobody gives me a house on rent because people are scared of me. I am here to change the image that the media has created of me. I want them to know the real Monica. I am not as bad as people think I am. I want to do it more for my parents than for myself. I have put them through a lot of shame,’ she said, between sobs.
Monica’s performance on national television won the heart of millions, including Congress Member of Parliament Sanjay Nirupam, who was one of the participants on the show. In fact, Nirupam promised to give her an apartment in the upmarket residential colony of Lokhandwala in Andheri. Monica was evicted from the show within a few weeks, only to return as a wild card entrant.
What followed was more controversial fodder for the media. Stories of Monica becoming romantically involved with another notorious participant and political heir Rahul Mahajan started doing the rounds. Rahul, a self-proclaimed Casanova, was constantly seen wooing and flirting with her during the show. He indirectly proposed marriage to her and asked if he could kiss her. Monica was also seen pouring her heart out to him. All their antics were caught on camera.
Salem, still behind bars, slapped her with a legal notice. It read, ‘You (Monica) are a married woman and if you want to marry some other man, you will first have to obtain a divorce from me (Salem).’
When Monica was evicted from the show again in November, she publicly claimed that Rahul was a ‘very close friend’ and that she needed some time before she could commit to him. However, as soon as Rahul came out of the show, he cleared the air and denied that he would be marrying her. ‘I am not marrying her. She is a dear friend and I will always stand by her. I only want people to treat her with respect,’ he explained. A visibly upset Monica surprisingly maintained a cold silence. Weeks later she told the media that Rahul was ‘not her kind of guy.
Mafia Queens of Mumbai Page 15
