Salman Mustaan
ShantaramSalman Mustaan is the humble, forceful leader who carries Abdel Khader Khan’s principles into the next generation of Bombay’s underworld. He turns the council Khader founded into a continuing local power, but its moral code and relative stability remain vulnerable to money, expansion, and factional war. Salman’s final decision to fight Chuha’s alliance secures a military victory at the cost of Salman himself and the council he led.
Identity and Background
Salman and Nazeer had been sixteen when their lives as close associates began; by the time of their meeting with Lin at the Mocambo, both had recently turned thirty. They had become hard men, known for their conspicuous gifts to their families and an assertive style. The two had helped their sisters make prestigious marriages, but remained unmarried. Salman told Lin that he and Nazeer shared a conviction that they would die young and violently. They regarded the danger as a price worth paying for excitement, power, and wealth that could support their families.
Their rise followed the war between Nazeer’s group and Abdul Ghani’s group. Once Nazeer’s side prevailed, he and Salman entered the council as young dons in their own right. Later, after Abdul Ghani’s death and a two-week gangster war that cost six lives, Lin formally debriefed Salman. Nazeer and the faction associated with Abdel Khader Khan had regained control of the mafia council. Salman’s position was thus shaped both by his long partnership with Nazeer and by the succession struggles that repeatedly tested the council.
Leadership and Khader’s Legacy
After Abdel Khader Khan had been dead for almost two years, Salman was, in practical terms, the don and leader of the council. Old Sobhan Mahmoud remained its nominal head, but illness had severely limited his speech and movement. The council arranged for Sobhan to receive medical care and family support at Khader’s beach house in Versova. Salman, by contrast, exercised authority day to day. People who knew him regarded him as Khader’s devoted man, and he governed the clan as though Khader’s advice still guided him in private.
That continuity was concrete in the council’s restrictions. Khader had refused to deal in heroin or allow its trade in his territory except among desperately addicted street users. He had also condemned prostitution as harmful to women, men, and the surrounding community, and punished those whose involvement in prostitution or pornography exceeded discreet limits. Under Salman, these restrictions remained in force across the several square kilometres that had fallen within Khader’s sphere of influence. Salman’s leadership therefore rested not only on control of men and territory but on preserving a particular, restrictive account of what the council would permit.
The council’s authority operated alongside, and against, corrupt policing. Local residents considered the gangsters more effective than the police at keeping heroin and sexual exploitation off their streets. The council itself bribed officers, including police who had already taken money from pimps and drug dealers, so that its men could punish persistent offenders. Older residents compared their district’s relative calm with disorder elsewhere; children sometimes treated the young gangsters as heroes, and local businesses welcomed them as preservers of peace. The rate of unsolicited information given to police was lower in the council’s territory than in any other part of Bombay. These details explain the public acceptance Salman’s organization enjoyed, without making its coercive methods disappear.
Humility, Work, and Personal Ties
Salman’s authority is distinguished by an unease with authority itself. Lin understands him as a natural leader, yet one troubled by the practice of command; when Salman praises Lin’s identity-document work, Lin senses that Salman is embarrassed by his own praise. Salman calls the work useful and successful: the forged-document books Lin made have helped the council’s men pass through checks without trouble, and there is strong demand for the service. Salman presents lunch as an occasion to thank Lin and give him a present. His appreciation is not merely ceremonial; it recognizes work that has become valuable to the organization.
Lin’s reflections connect Salman’s humility to his idea of honour. Lin distinguishes honour from virtue: virtue concerns what a person does, while honour concerns how it is done. In that view, Salman’s reluctance to display command is part of what makes him honourable, even though he leads criminals and killers. The account does not erase the violence surrounding the council; it shows instead how a leader’s conduct and a group’s internal standards can matter within a corrupt and violent institution.
Salman is also bound to Nazeer by a shared history and by their early expectation of violent deaths. Their alliance survives the upheaval of the gang war, and Nazeer becomes instrumental in preparing Khader’s nephew Tariq for possible future leadership. Tariq is considered too young to attend council meetings or claim a seat, so Nazeer gives him responsibilities that gradually acquaint him with the world he may one day command. Salman’s own standing remains the present reality, while Tariq represents a possible next generation.
Rivalry and the Decision to Fight
Salman’s council faces a growing threat from Chuha, who has gained territory through conquest or coercion while the older Walidlalla council head, Walid, has become ill and ceded power. Lin sees a choice narrowing before Salman: accept a merger or risk open war. A victory over Chuha could bring territory and operations, but would also mean taking on trade in heroin, women, and pornography—the very activities Khader’s council had resisted. Lin fears that defeating Chuha could make Salman’s side become what it opposed. The prospect of expansion therefore threatens the principles that helped establish the council’s local legitimacy.
The immediate danger arrives when Chuha’s group makes contact with a surviving Sapna operative and two of his relatives, bringing the prospect of weapons and connections to the Pakistani heroin trade. These survivors and Iranian associates are described as renegades driven by revenge, while Chuha is drawn by ambition and the opportunity to expand. Salman has already placed Little Tony, a Goan gangster unknown in Bombay, inside Chuha’s group. The information Little Tony supplies alerts Salman to the alliance and its planned attack. When Faisal confirms that the enemy has arrived at Chuha’s house, Salman sees a chance to strike before they can escape and to end the threat, Chuha’s rule, and the contest for territory at once.
Salman does not simply issue an order. He explains that waiting could bring thirty more men and guns but might let the enemy get away; acting immediately offers surprise, though the men must decide whether they are ready. One by one, they choose to go now. Salman closes his eyes and murmurs an Arabic prayer. When he opens them, the restraint he had maintained gives way to full commitment. He invokes the phrase Saatch aur himmat, translated in the scene as truth and courage, and the men answer in kind. The moment makes the attack a collective decision as well as Salman’s command.
Death and Narrative Significance
The assault ends the immediate war but takes Salman’s life. As the men withdraw, Mahmoud tells Lin that Salman and Raj have been lost, while Amir is badly wounded but alive. Lin understands Salman as the last voice of reason in the council and the last representative of Khader’s old order. With Salman gone, he sees the old mafia council as finished and the balance of power as irreversibly changed.
The victory is real: the Sapna killers are gone, Khader’s death is avenged, Abdul Ghani’s betrayal is defeated, the Iranian enemies are eliminated, and Chuha’s gang is crushed. Yet the men who have won are crying. Salman’s ending therefore refuses to equate success with restoration. He achieves the immediate objective, but the council’s continuity—and the principles that had distinguished it—cannot simply survive his death. Through Salman, the novel presents leadership as an uneasy inheritance: a person may preserve a predecessor’s code for a time, but war can destroy the person who holds that inheritance together.