The recent Malwani hooch tragedy that claimed 102 lives has revealed how women control a large chunk of the illicit business
Haima Deshpande Haima Deshpande | 23 Jul, 2015
At Rathodi village in Malwani, a locality in north Mumbai, the stench of alcohol is overpowering. It is a sprawling place of dirty lanes crisscrossing each other, housing a large number of migrants who work as daily-wage labourers. The hooch here is hidden away in plastic barrels in rooms rented out or built specifically for the purpose, ferried at the dead of night across the city to other places.
Two women, a saas-bahu duo, who go by the name of Meena Acharya and Veena Acharya, control the trade in Rathodi village, say police sources. Recently, in Malwani, 102 people died after drinking spurious liquor. The two women, both absconding, are suspected as suppliers of the methanol-laced hooch to a man called Raju Langda, who then retailed it. They have been absconding since the tragedy.
According to eyewitnesses, both women had carried the hooch in plastic packets to sell. The smallest bottle of government-approved country liquor is priced at Rs 45, while illegal hooch at Rs 10-20 for a small pouch is far more affordable to daily-wage labourers who make up the bulk of its consumers. People in the area say Meena has been in the hooch business for over two decades. Veena, when she got married to Meena’s son, got co-opted into it. Information on her husband is hazy—some say he is dead; others put him in prison. Meena is popularly credited as the brains behind the business. “They are not in confrontation with others in the hooch trade. This has been to their advantage,” says a source who would like to stay anonymous.
Usually clad in salwar-kameez, the duo buy their hooch from illegal breweries in neighbouring suburbs and confine their operations to specific slums, which is how they cornered a large share of the Malwani market. Police sources say they also supply dubious liquor to illegal bars in Mumbai.
North of Malwani, on the city’s outskirts is the fast growing and densely populated suburb of Virar. This is the base of Maushi, a 60-year-old woman who goes by a name that simply means ‘maternal aunt’. She is said to be dark in complexion, overweight and of average height. Seen with two diamond nose rings, she is a migrant Tamilian who speaks Bombaiya Hindi liberally sprinkled with expletives, fiercely protective of her territory and not given to flinching from the use of violence when necessary. Better known in the hooch business than the Acharyas, Maushi is among the largest suppliers to Mumbai and its eastern suburb of Thane.
On police record, Maushi’s name first cropped up following the interrogation of Mamta Rathod, 30, and Agnes Gracy, 50, women who ran a parallel supply chain to Malwani and were arrested for the Malwani tragedy. Later, two others, Francis D’Souza and Salim Shaikh, were also arrested in the same case, and they too have revealed Maushi as the source of their supplies. Like the Acharyas, Maushi too keeps moving around to avoid the police dragnet. She has a vast network of close-knit relatives who have been beneficiaries of her trade, and she uses this to her advantage—constantly shifting from house to house.
Oddly, Maushi’s name did not figure in police records all these years despite her being in the business for decades. “In spurious liquor, trade names are not important, it is the maal (goods) that counts. The nasha (high) has to be quick and must hit hard,” says a police source.
Maushi does not ever transport the hooch herself; a chain of direct buyers purchase it from a small network of her agents, most of whom are related, after paying in cash. She is said to source her hooch from illegal breweries around Palghar. Deputy Commissioner of Police Dhananjay Kulkarni says that hooch is brewed in remote areas: “It is often done on the outskirts and in marshy areas. It is then transported to the city, where runners of the kingpins take it further in.”
In the Malwani hooch tragedy, the two accused, Rathod and Gracy, allegedly bought 10 litres of hooch—as they did every day—from Maushi’s agents and mixed it with 15 litres of methanol to raise its potency. The two have also been in the trade for decades, say sources.
The number of women in the hooch trade has tripled in the last decade, say police. Much of it has to do with their husbands being imprisoned, dead or on the run. Another reason is that women, being better carriers, are able to spread the trade to new areas. The women are also said to be more ruthless. They deal only in cash; no credit. The police also say that over 75 per cent of those in the hooch business are women—most of them being Tamil migrants living in the slums of Mankhurd and Dharavi. Women from Gujarat and Rajasthan are also said to be getting involved now.
Illicit liquor is never transported by vehicles from Mumbai’s eastern suburbs to the western suburbs, since the route has too many police check posts. Women from villages bordering these suburbs usually walk past the posts with hooch pouches hidden in cloth bags or concealed in firewood. Often, a group of women are employed just for this. Small quantities can also be concealed in tubes and tied around waists underneath their clothes.
According to Maharashtra’s Excise Department, it is difficult to catch hooch makers because they work in marshy lands or deep jungles. Mumbai’s illegal breweries are located deep within Sanjay Gandhi National Park, the forests near Film City in Goregaon. In the neighbouring Thane district, there are said to be breweries in Thane Creek, Kalyan, Bhiwandi and Kasara. From there, it is taken to Malwani, Dharavi and Mankhurd, where most of the city’s daily-wage labourers live. The police have tried to raid breweries in marshy lands, but find it difficult to nab the culprits because they lack boats. Local fishermen, in fear of the hooch gangs, offer only inadequate assistance.
To combat the menace, the police are asking wives of hooch consumers to assist them. Since this initiative got underway, they have received numerous calls. “There is so much other work to do, besides chasing hooch sellers. We have not been able to track the information of every call,” says a policeman at Malad Police Station. “The wives of drunkards are very enthusiastic, but verifying the calls is difficult.”
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