Underworld ki rani

Underworld ki rani, meaning 'queen of the underworld,' is the title that surfaces in the book's opening inquiry into the forgotten women of Mumbai's criminal history. The phrase is first uttered by a graveyard attendant, Shakoor bhai, who uses it to describe a woman buried in the Bada Qabrastan, a figure he insists was 'the queen of the Mumbai underworld; no one like her will ever be seen again.' The narrator, a crime reporter of fifteen years, is stunned, having never heard of such a woman. The title thus becomes a key to unlocking a hidden history, a counter-narrative to the male-dominated chronicles of dons like Dawood Ibrahim, Haji Mastan, and Karim Lala. It is a designation that encapsulates the book's central thesis: that women were not merely passive victims or appendages of the mafia, but powerful agents in their own right, whose stories challenge the dominant moral codes and the official record of crime in the city.

The Queen of the Mumbai Underworld

The title is most concretely attached to Jenabai Daaruwali, the bootlegger whose grave the narrator is led to by Shakoor bhai. The old man's description paints a picture of a woman of extraordinary reach: she was a sister to Haji Mastan, tied a rakhi to former prime minister Morarji Desai, and was respected by Yashwantrao Chavan, the chief minister of Maharashtra. This image of a woman who moved with equal ease among mafiosi and the highest political echelons is the very definition of the 'underworld ki rani.' The narrator's initial skepticism—wondering if the old man has gone senile—underscores how thoroughly women have been written out of the standard history of the Mumbai underworld. The title, therefore, is not just a label but a revelation, pointing to a parallel power structure where a woman could be the confidante and counsellor of one of the city's most dangerous men, as Jenabai is shown to be when Mastan comes to her with his problems, calling her 'Aapa' and admitting she is the only person he can think of in trouble.

A Title Earned Through Defiance

The book's evidence shows that the title 'underworld ki rani' was not merely honorary but was earned through acts of public defiance and moral authority. Jenabai's peace march during the 1993 riots is a prime example. After the Suleman Usman Bakery firing on 9 January 1993, in which nine Muslims were killed by police fire, Jenabai, in her long white chikan nightgown and shawl, with a rosary in one hand and a white flag in the other, led a demonstration through the torched lanes of Dongri to the Pydhonie junction. This act of courage, walking between two wounded communities, positions her as a moral leader, a queen who commands not through violence but through her willingness to stand in the line of fire. This is a different kind of sovereignty, one that the book suggests is a crucial, and overlooked, part of the underworld's story. The title thus carries a weight of moral and political significance, distinguishing her from the gangsters who ruled through fear.

The Rani's Legacy and the Book's Purpose

The phrase 'underworld ki rani' also serves as a framing device for the book's broader project of recovering the stories of women criminals. The narrator's initial question—'Do you mean the wives of the underworld dons?'—reveals the default assumption that women's power in this world is derivative. The book's evidence, however, shows a spectrum of female agency that defies this. Gangubai Kathiawadi, the brothel madam, is a 'queen' of a different realm, Kamathipura, who secures an appointment with Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and gives a stirring speech at Azad Maidan, declaring, 'I am a gharwali (a brothel madam) not a ghar todnewali (home wrecker).' Mahalaxmi Papamani, the drug queen of Sion-Koliwada, builds a heroin empire, employing hundreds and becoming the 'poor man's bank.' Rubina Siraj Sayyed, the 'Pathan' of Byculla Women's Jail, is a beautician who becomes a renowned underworld aide. These women, like Jenabai, are not blank slates written upon by dangerous male mafia members. The title 'underworld ki rani' is thus reclaimed by the book as a term of analysis, a way to name a form of power that is both criminal and charismatic, and to insist that these women were not merely supporting characters but protagonists in their own right, fascinating precisely because they pushed the boundaries of the dominant moral codes.