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The Wily Old Woman of Dongri
Before Haseena Parkar, Dawood Ibrahim’s sister, there was another woman who was both feared and dreaded in the underworld: Jenabai Daaruwali. This is the real story of a dangerously wily woman; a woman that smuggler Haji Mastan called ‘sister’, and one who even Dawood Ibrahim found formidable. Written by S. Hussain Zaidi, the author of bestselling books on the underworld, this is a rare insight into one of the women who once ruled the Mumbai mafia.
Cover is fine too.
Cover is fine too.
49 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 18, 2017
17 people are currently reading
140 people want to read
About the author
S. Hussain Zaidi
25 books571 followersS. Hussain Zaidi is a prominent Indian author, journalist, and screenwriter celebrated for his invaluable contributions to the world of crime reporting, investigative journalism, and storytelling. Born on February 28, 1962, in Mumbai, India, Zaidi has left an indelible mark on the literary and cinematic landscapes of India, particularly in the realm of crime and the Mumbai underworld.
S. Hussain Zaidi embarked on his career as a crime reporter, where he honed his skills in uncovering hidden truths and delving into the intricacies of organized crime in Mumbai. His early experiences as a journalist provided him with a deep understanding of the criminal world and its dynamics.
Over the years, Zaidi transitioned from journalism to writing and screenwriting, bringing his unparalleled insights and storytelling prowess to a wider audience. His unique ability to humanize the characters in his narratives, whether they are criminals or law enforcement officers, sets his work apart.
"Black Friday: The True Story of the Bombay Bomb Blasts" - Zaidi's book "Black Friday" is a compelling account of the 1993 Bombay bombings. It presents a factual and thorough examination of the events leading up to the blasts and their aftermath.
"Dongri to Dubai: Six Decades of the Mumbai Mafia" - This critically acclaimed book stands as one of Zaidi's most notable works. It meticulously traces the evolution of organized crime in Mumbai over six decades. The book offers a comprehensive and gripping account of the city's criminal history.
"Mafia Queens of Mumbai: Stories of Women from the Ganglands" - In this compelling book, Zaidi sheds light on the powerful and enigmatic women who played significant roles in Mumbai's underworld. He tells their stories with empathy and detail, providing a fresh perspective on the world of crime.
S. Hussain Zaidi's influential literary works have transcended the confines of the written word and made a powerful impact on the silver screen. Some noteworthy adaptations of his books include:
"Black Friday" (2007) - Directed by Anurag Kashyap.
"Shootout at Wadala" (2013) - Directed by Sanjay Gupta.
"Class of '83" (2020) - Directed by Atul Sabharwal.
"Gangubai Kathiawadi" (2022) - Directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, among many others.
In addition to his contributions to the film industry, S. Hussain Zaidi has harnessed his creative prowess in the realm of film and web series production. His noteworthy productions encompass projects like "Bard of Blood" and "Scoop" on Netflix, as well as the recent addition "Bambai Meri Jaan," available for streaming on Amazon Prime Video.
S. Hussain Zaidi has played a pivotal role in nurturing emerging literary talents within the authorship realm. Notably, individuals such as Bilal Siddique, Neeraj Kumar (Commissioner of Delhi Police), Kashif Mashaikh, and many more have found their path to success as authors under his guidance. This mentoring initiative is facilitated through "Blue Salt Media," an imprint in collaboration with Penguin India.
S. Hussain Zaidi's work, both in literature and cinema, continues to captivate audiences with its gritty realism, engaging storytelling, and insights into the complex world of crime and law enforcement in India. His contributions have not only enriched the true crime genre but have also served as a source of inspiration for aspiring writers, journalists, and filmmakers.
S. Hussain Zaidi embarked on his career as a crime reporter, where he honed his skills in uncovering hidden truths and delving into the intricacies of organized crime in Mumbai. His early experiences as a journalist provided him with a deep understanding of the criminal world and its dynamics.
Over the years, Zaidi transitioned from journalism to writing and screenwriting, bringing his unparalleled insights and storytelling prowess to a wider audience. His unique ability to humanize the characters in his narratives, whether they are criminals or law enforcement officers, sets his work apart.
"Black Friday: The True Story of the Bombay Bomb Blasts" - Zaidi's book "Black Friday" is a compelling account of the 1993 Bombay bombings. It presents a factual and thorough examination of the events leading up to the blasts and their aftermath.
"Dongri to Dubai: Six Decades of the Mumbai Mafia" - This critically acclaimed book stands as one of Zaidi's most notable works. It meticulously traces the evolution of organized crime in Mumbai over six decades. The book offers a comprehensive and gripping account of the city's criminal history.
"Mafia Queens of Mumbai: Stories of Women from the Ganglands" - In this compelling book, Zaidi sheds light on the powerful and enigmatic women who played significant roles in Mumbai's underworld. He tells their stories with empathy and detail, providing a fresh perspective on the world of crime.
S. Hussain Zaidi's influential literary works have transcended the confines of the written word and made a powerful impact on the silver screen. Some noteworthy adaptations of his books include:
"Black Friday" (2007) - Directed by Anurag Kashyap.
"Shootout at Wadala" (2013) - Directed by Sanjay Gupta.
"Class of '83" (2020) - Directed by Atul Sabharwal.
"Gangubai Kathiawadi" (2022) - Directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, among many others.
In addition to his contributions to the film industry, S. Hussain Zaidi has harnessed his creative prowess in the realm of film and web series production. His noteworthy productions encompass projects like "Bard of Blood" and "Scoop" on Netflix, as well as the recent addition "Bambai Meri Jaan," available for streaming on Amazon Prime Video.
S. Hussain Zaidi has played a pivotal role in nurturing emerging literary talents within the authorship realm. Notably, individuals such as Bilal Siddique, Neeraj Kumar (Commissioner of Delhi Police), Kashif Mashaikh, and many more have found their path to success as authors under his guidance. This mentoring initiative is facilitated through "Blue Salt Media," an imprint in collaboration with Penguin India.
S. Hussain Zaidi's work, both in literature and cinema, continues to captivate audiences with its gritty realism, engaging storytelling, and insights into the complex world of crime and law enforcement in India. His contributions have not only enriched the true crime genre but have also served as a source of inspiration for aspiring writers, journalists, and filmmakers.
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October 5, 2025
#Binge Reviewing my previous Reads # True Crime #Indian Underworld and Terrorism
S. Hussain Zaidi’s literary and journalistic journey through Mumbai’s underworld has always been an exploration of power, betrayal, and survival, chronicling the city’s criminal dynasties with meticulous detail and rare empathy.
If works like *Dongri to Dubai* and *My Name is Abu Salem* focused primarily on the men who built and sustained this empire of violence, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* shifts the lens to a figure who, though less glamorous and headline-grabbing, is no less central to the ecosystem: the women of the underworld — particularly an enigmatic, cunning matriarch whose life and strategies reveal the gendered dynamics of crime, influence, and survival in Bombay’s lanes.
From the very first pages, Zaidi positions his subject as both myth and reality, navigating the complex interplay between rumor, historical record, and eyewitness testimony. Unlike the narrative arcs that dominate his male-centered works, this book is more intimate, almost anthropological, in approach.
The “wily old woman” in question — a matronly figure who has survived the rise and fall of empires, the shifting loyalties of gangsters, and the ceaseless scrutiny of law enforcement — becomes a prism through which Zaidi examines the hidden scaffolding of the underworld. Her wiles are strategic, her networks subtle, and her influence profound. In focusing on her, Zaidi highlights how women, often relegated to the margins in traditional crime reportage, were in fact essential cogs in the machinery of power.
Zaidi’s prose, as always, is immersive. He paints Dongri not merely as a location but as a living entity — alleys steeped in memory, chawls where gossip carries the weight of intelligence, and corridors where a glance can communicate loyalty or threat. Within this environment, the titular old woman operates with a dexterity that belies her age.
Her strategies are multi-layered: she mediates disputes, facilitates communication across rival factions, and ensures that her own survival — and occasionally, that of her protégés — is secured. What emerges is a portrait of power that is understated, often invisible to outsiders, but no less effective than the more overt violence of her male counterparts.
Comparatively, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* reads as a companion to Zaidi’s male-focused chronicles. Where *Dongri to Dubai* mapped the rise of Dawood Ibrahim through bold acts and spectacular violence, this book traces influence through negotiation, perception, and relational intelligence. Where *Byculla to Bangkok* documented the decay of old empires and the globalization of crime, *The Wily Old Woman* emphasizes continuity — the way underworld traditions, codes, and networks persist, sometimes quietly, often through figures who never wielded a gun but whose strategic acumen proved vital.
Zaidi’s narrative thereby complicates the reader’s understanding of power: it is not solely brute force or fear that sustains criminal enterprises, but also cunning, patience, and interpersonal mastery.
Central to the book is Zaidi’s exploration of gendered survival strategies. The old woman’s wiles are not merely tactical; they are responses to a deeply patriarchal environment. She navigates threats both overt and systemic: male ambition, police interference, communal tensions, and economic precarity. Her ability to anticipate betrayal, leverage rumor, and manipulate alliances illustrates how marginalized actors — particularly women — exerted agency in spaces where societal norms ostensibly excluded them. In doing so, Zaidi elevates the discussion of Mumbai’s underworld beyond the familiar tales of gunfights and smuggling, demonstrating that the social ecosystem of crime encompasses subtle power plays as much as overt violence.
The narrative is also deeply reflective. Zaidi does not present his subject as a caricature of cunning or a moral enigma; instead, he humanizes her, capturing her vulnerabilities alongside her brilliance. Readers witness moments of fear, grief, and loneliness interspersed with episodes of strategy, negotiation, and triumph.
This duality makes her a profoundly compelling figure — simultaneously relatable and enigmatic, an embodiment of resilience in an unforgiving world. In this sense, the book aligns with Zaidi’s broader interest in the psychology of crime, seen in works like *My Name is Abu Salem* and *Headley and I*, where he delves beneath the surface of action to explore motivation, ambition, and moral compromise.
Stylistically, the book retains Zaidi’s signature balance of reportage and storytelling. He documents events with meticulous accuracy — citing eyewitness accounts, police records, and archival material — yet his prose retains a narrative drive that renders history vivid and immediate. Dongri comes alive not just as a backdrop but as a character itself, shaping and being shaped by the lives it contains. The old woman’s story, embedded in this urban tapestry, becomes simultaneously a case study and a narrative meditation on the nature of survival, influence, and adaptation.
In terms of comparative analysis with Zaidi’s other works, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* adds an essential dimension to his oeuvre. His previous texts — *Dongri to Dubai*, *Byculla to Bangkok*, *My Name is Abu Salem*, *Dawood’s Mentor* — focused on men as architects and actors of underworld narratives, emphasizing ambition, violence, and the cyclical nature of criminal empires. By contrast, this book highlights how women, operating often behind the scenes, sustain and shape these same networks.
Their methods are less visible but no less consequential, and Zaidi carefully shows how influence in the underworld is multi-scalar: power does not only manifest in violence or wealth, but also in strategy, foresight, and social intelligence.
One of the striking revelations in the book is the mentorship aspect. Just as *Dawood’s Mentor* explored the influences that shaped a young Dawood Ibrahim, *The Wily Old Woman* examines how older female figures guided, counseled, and, in some cases, controlled younger members of the ecosystem.
This intergenerational transmission of knowledge — strategies, codes, and intelligence networks — forms a vital backbone for Zaidi’s broader thesis: that crime in Mumbai is a social as well as economic phenomenon, sustained by informal structures that operate alongside formal institutions.
Zaidi also emphasizes the resilience of these networks. The old woman navigates an era of dramatic change: the decline of traditional smuggling routes, the influx of digital technologies, shifts in political patronage, and the globalization of criminal enterprise. Yet she adapts, using her deep understanding of human behavior and social structures to maintain relevance.
Here, Zaidi’s writing illuminates the adaptability and longevity of underworld ecosystems: while empires rise and fall, the underlying social intelligence that sustains them persists, often embodied in figures like the wily old woman.
Moreover, the book provides a subtle critique of societal perceptions. Women in the underworld are often trivialized, romanticized, or entirely erased from public memory. By focusing on a matriarchal figure, Zaidi challenges these narratives, insisting that understanding the underworld requires acknowledging its gendered dynamics. Her story is not merely anecdotal; it is emblematic of a broader pattern of influence and agency that runs parallel to, and sometimes intersects with, the more sensational male narratives.
The book also carries an ethical dimension. Zaidi portrays his subject with complexity — her cunning, manipulation, and moral compromises are undeniable, yet they exist within a context of systemic constraints and constant danger. This approach reinforces a recurring Zaidi motif: crime and survival are intertwined, and moral judgments must be contextualized within the pressures and opportunities of the environment. Just as he humanizes Dawood, Abu Salem, and Headley, he humanizes his female subjects, demonstrating that understanding the underworld requires empathy without excusing transgression.
Comparatively, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* bridges Zaidi’s underworld narratives with his explorations of psychological and relational dynamics seen in *My Name is Abu Salem* and *Headley and I*. The focus on relational intelligence — manipulation, alliance-building, and emotional acuity — anticipates themes later developed in terror narratives, showing continuity in Zaidi’s analytical approach. While the stakes may differ — local power versus global terror — the human mechanisms remain consistent: ambition, strategy, and adaptability drive outcomes, regardless of gender or scale.
Stylistically, Zaidi maintains the immersive quality that defines his oeuvre. He interweaves historical documentation with storytelling, creating a rhythm that is both compelling and informative. Dongri’s alleys, chawls, and streets are rendered with sensory richness, situating the old woman’s life in a palpable urban reality. Readers can see the microcosms in which her strategies unfold, understand the subtleties of social negotiation, and appreciate the endurance required to thrive in a male-dominated, dangerous ecosystem.
In conclusion, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* is an essential addition to Zaidi’s corpus, expanding the narrative lens to include women whose cunning and influence have been historically overlooked. It complements his male-focused chronicles, providing insight into the social intelligence, mentorship, and strategic adaptability that sustain underworld networks across generations.
By centering a female figure, Zaidi enriches our understanding of Mumbai’s criminal ecosystems, demonstrating that power is not merely exercised through violence or wealth, but also through subtlety, perception, and relational mastery. The book underscores the importance of intergenerational knowledge transfer, adaptability to social and technological change, and the gendered dimensions of survival and influence.
Ultimately, this book is a meditation on resilience, strategy, and human ingenuity. It challenges readers to rethink traditional narratives of crime, reminding us that the most effective power is often invisible and that women — long relegated to the margins of history — have shaped the underworld as decisively as any don or ganglord. In the context of Zaidi’s broader body of work, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* deepens our appreciation for the complexity, adaptability, and moral ambiguity of Mumbai’s criminal landscape, proving that every story of power, whether male or female, violent or strategic, is inextricably linked to the city and its shadows.
S. Hussain Zaidi’s literary and journalistic journey through Mumbai’s underworld has always been an exploration of power, betrayal, and survival, chronicling the city’s criminal dynasties with meticulous detail and rare empathy.
If works like *Dongri to Dubai* and *My Name is Abu Salem* focused primarily on the men who built and sustained this empire of violence, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* shifts the lens to a figure who, though less glamorous and headline-grabbing, is no less central to the ecosystem: the women of the underworld — particularly an enigmatic, cunning matriarch whose life and strategies reveal the gendered dynamics of crime, influence, and survival in Bombay’s lanes.
From the very first pages, Zaidi positions his subject as both myth and reality, navigating the complex interplay between rumor, historical record, and eyewitness testimony. Unlike the narrative arcs that dominate his male-centered works, this book is more intimate, almost anthropological, in approach.
The “wily old woman” in question — a matronly figure who has survived the rise and fall of empires, the shifting loyalties of gangsters, and the ceaseless scrutiny of law enforcement — becomes a prism through which Zaidi examines the hidden scaffolding of the underworld. Her wiles are strategic, her networks subtle, and her influence profound. In focusing on her, Zaidi highlights how women, often relegated to the margins in traditional crime reportage, were in fact essential cogs in the machinery of power.
Zaidi’s prose, as always, is immersive. He paints Dongri not merely as a location but as a living entity — alleys steeped in memory, chawls where gossip carries the weight of intelligence, and corridors where a glance can communicate loyalty or threat. Within this environment, the titular old woman operates with a dexterity that belies her age.
Her strategies are multi-layered: she mediates disputes, facilitates communication across rival factions, and ensures that her own survival — and occasionally, that of her protégés — is secured. What emerges is a portrait of power that is understated, often invisible to outsiders, but no less effective than the more overt violence of her male counterparts.
Comparatively, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* reads as a companion to Zaidi’s male-focused chronicles. Where *Dongri to Dubai* mapped the rise of Dawood Ibrahim through bold acts and spectacular violence, this book traces influence through negotiation, perception, and relational intelligence. Where *Byculla to Bangkok* documented the decay of old empires and the globalization of crime, *The Wily Old Woman* emphasizes continuity — the way underworld traditions, codes, and networks persist, sometimes quietly, often through figures who never wielded a gun but whose strategic acumen proved vital.
Zaidi’s narrative thereby complicates the reader’s understanding of power: it is not solely brute force or fear that sustains criminal enterprises, but also cunning, patience, and interpersonal mastery.
Central to the book is Zaidi’s exploration of gendered survival strategies. The old woman’s wiles are not merely tactical; they are responses to a deeply patriarchal environment. She navigates threats both overt and systemic: male ambition, police interference, communal tensions, and economic precarity. Her ability to anticipate betrayal, leverage rumor, and manipulate alliances illustrates how marginalized actors — particularly women — exerted agency in spaces where societal norms ostensibly excluded them. In doing so, Zaidi elevates the discussion of Mumbai’s underworld beyond the familiar tales of gunfights and smuggling, demonstrating that the social ecosystem of crime encompasses subtle power plays as much as overt violence.
The narrative is also deeply reflective. Zaidi does not present his subject as a caricature of cunning or a moral enigma; instead, he humanizes her, capturing her vulnerabilities alongside her brilliance. Readers witness moments of fear, grief, and loneliness interspersed with episodes of strategy, negotiation, and triumph.
This duality makes her a profoundly compelling figure — simultaneously relatable and enigmatic, an embodiment of resilience in an unforgiving world. In this sense, the book aligns with Zaidi’s broader interest in the psychology of crime, seen in works like *My Name is Abu Salem* and *Headley and I*, where he delves beneath the surface of action to explore motivation, ambition, and moral compromise.
Stylistically, the book retains Zaidi’s signature balance of reportage and storytelling. He documents events with meticulous accuracy — citing eyewitness accounts, police records, and archival material — yet his prose retains a narrative drive that renders history vivid and immediate. Dongri comes alive not just as a backdrop but as a character itself, shaping and being shaped by the lives it contains. The old woman’s story, embedded in this urban tapestry, becomes simultaneously a case study and a narrative meditation on the nature of survival, influence, and adaptation.
In terms of comparative analysis with Zaidi’s other works, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* adds an essential dimension to his oeuvre. His previous texts — *Dongri to Dubai*, *Byculla to Bangkok*, *My Name is Abu Salem*, *Dawood’s Mentor* — focused on men as architects and actors of underworld narratives, emphasizing ambition, violence, and the cyclical nature of criminal empires. By contrast, this book highlights how women, operating often behind the scenes, sustain and shape these same networks.
Their methods are less visible but no less consequential, and Zaidi carefully shows how influence in the underworld is multi-scalar: power does not only manifest in violence or wealth, but also in strategy, foresight, and social intelligence.
One of the striking revelations in the book is the mentorship aspect. Just as *Dawood’s Mentor* explored the influences that shaped a young Dawood Ibrahim, *The Wily Old Woman* examines how older female figures guided, counseled, and, in some cases, controlled younger members of the ecosystem.
This intergenerational transmission of knowledge — strategies, codes, and intelligence networks — forms a vital backbone for Zaidi’s broader thesis: that crime in Mumbai is a social as well as economic phenomenon, sustained by informal structures that operate alongside formal institutions.
Zaidi also emphasizes the resilience of these networks. The old woman navigates an era of dramatic change: the decline of traditional smuggling routes, the influx of digital technologies, shifts in political patronage, and the globalization of criminal enterprise. Yet she adapts, using her deep understanding of human behavior and social structures to maintain relevance.
Here, Zaidi’s writing illuminates the adaptability and longevity of underworld ecosystems: while empires rise and fall, the underlying social intelligence that sustains them persists, often embodied in figures like the wily old woman.
Moreover, the book provides a subtle critique of societal perceptions. Women in the underworld are often trivialized, romanticized, or entirely erased from public memory. By focusing on a matriarchal figure, Zaidi challenges these narratives, insisting that understanding the underworld requires acknowledging its gendered dynamics. Her story is not merely anecdotal; it is emblematic of a broader pattern of influence and agency that runs parallel to, and sometimes intersects with, the more sensational male narratives.
The book also carries an ethical dimension. Zaidi portrays his subject with complexity — her cunning, manipulation, and moral compromises are undeniable, yet they exist within a context of systemic constraints and constant danger. This approach reinforces a recurring Zaidi motif: crime and survival are intertwined, and moral judgments must be contextualized within the pressures and opportunities of the environment. Just as he humanizes Dawood, Abu Salem, and Headley, he humanizes his female subjects, demonstrating that understanding the underworld requires empathy without excusing transgression.
Comparatively, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* bridges Zaidi’s underworld narratives with his explorations of psychological and relational dynamics seen in *My Name is Abu Salem* and *Headley and I*. The focus on relational intelligence — manipulation, alliance-building, and emotional acuity — anticipates themes later developed in terror narratives, showing continuity in Zaidi’s analytical approach. While the stakes may differ — local power versus global terror — the human mechanisms remain consistent: ambition, strategy, and adaptability drive outcomes, regardless of gender or scale.
Stylistically, Zaidi maintains the immersive quality that defines his oeuvre. He interweaves historical documentation with storytelling, creating a rhythm that is both compelling and informative. Dongri’s alleys, chawls, and streets are rendered with sensory richness, situating the old woman’s life in a palpable urban reality. Readers can see the microcosms in which her strategies unfold, understand the subtleties of social negotiation, and appreciate the endurance required to thrive in a male-dominated, dangerous ecosystem.
In conclusion, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* is an essential addition to Zaidi’s corpus, expanding the narrative lens to include women whose cunning and influence have been historically overlooked. It complements his male-focused chronicles, providing insight into the social intelligence, mentorship, and strategic adaptability that sustain underworld networks across generations.
By centering a female figure, Zaidi enriches our understanding of Mumbai’s criminal ecosystems, demonstrating that power is not merely exercised through violence or wealth, but also through subtlety, perception, and relational mastery. The book underscores the importance of intergenerational knowledge transfer, adaptability to social and technological change, and the gendered dimensions of survival and influence.
Ultimately, this book is a meditation on resilience, strategy, and human ingenuity. It challenges readers to rethink traditional narratives of crime, reminding us that the most effective power is often invisible and that women — long relegated to the margins of history — have shaped the underworld as decisively as any don or ganglord. In the context of Zaidi’s broader body of work, *The Wily Old Woman of Dongri* deepens our appreciation for the complexity, adaptability, and moral ambiguity of Mumbai’s criminal landscape, proving that every story of power, whether male or female, violent or strategic, is inextricably linked to the city and its shadows.
January 13, 2019
She rests in the grave the headstone of which reads: Form No. 2544, Otta No. 601, and this probably is her only remaining identity. Once a woman feared and respected by police and mafia alike rests unknowingly in the Bada Qabristan where the graves of Haji Mastan and Ibrahim Kaskar are adorned with roses on their death anniversary. She is Jenabai Daruwali and S. Hussain Zaidi's little but glorious gem - 'The Wily Old Woman Of Dongri' is her story. The book starts with a writer's visit to a graveyard where the pioneer and stalwarts of the Mumbai Underworld rest in peace. The visit was was supposed for Haji Mastan but the writer stumbles upon Jenabai Daruwali.
What can you expect from a small book of 50 pages? Honestly I expected it to be a newspaper article kind of a book. But S. Hussain Zaidi took me by surprise as this book was small but the detailing, atmosphere building and most importantly character building are so good that many writers fail to do in full length novels. Right after the prologue the book takes you back to an era where the national emergency has just ended and Janta Party came to the power. Haji Mastan is now not the larger than life man he used to be and new gangsters like Dawood Ibrahim are at their rise. Mastan is in a big amount of debt and he invites Jenabai as the last resort to solve his problem.
From here the author tells the story of how did Jenabai architect and orchestrate the greatest peace truce in history of the Mumbai mafia and the life story of Jenabai. The story is told in alternate chapter where one chapter focus on the life of Jenabai and other on the truce. The author perfectly builts everything from chapter length to chapter division and most importantly he successfully establishes the character of Jenabai as not a woman with power but as woman who represents the real power itself. The best feature of the book apart from character building is that the book takes you through the history of not only city's underbelly but also the city's history right from the beginning and the changing political environment effected these underbellies, it would have been very difficult to summarise all these things and put it into a 50 page long book. But all these things were put and mixed in these chapters so finely that while reading it adds a whole lot of value to the book from both the perspectives, i.e storytelling and telling the history of Mumbai and Mumbai's Underworld.
A Surprisingly Great Book.
5 Stars.
What can you expect from a small book of 50 pages? Honestly I expected it to be a newspaper article kind of a book. But S. Hussain Zaidi took me by surprise as this book was small but the detailing, atmosphere building and most importantly character building are so good that many writers fail to do in full length novels. Right after the prologue the book takes you back to an era where the national emergency has just ended and Janta Party came to the power. Haji Mastan is now not the larger than life man he used to be and new gangsters like Dawood Ibrahim are at their rise. Mastan is in a big amount of debt and he invites Jenabai as the last resort to solve his problem.
From here the author tells the story of how did Jenabai architect and orchestrate the greatest peace truce in history of the Mumbai mafia and the life story of Jenabai. The story is told in alternate chapter where one chapter focus on the life of Jenabai and other on the truce. The author perfectly builts everything from chapter length to chapter division and most importantly he successfully establishes the character of Jenabai as not a woman with power but as woman who represents the real power itself. The best feature of the book apart from character building is that the book takes you through the history of not only city's underbelly but also the city's history right from the beginning and the changing political environment effected these underbellies, it would have been very difficult to summarise all these things and put it into a 50 page long book. But all these things were put and mixed in these chapters so finely that while reading it adds a whole lot of value to the book from both the perspectives, i.e storytelling and telling the history of Mumbai and Mumbai's Underworld.
A Surprisingly Great Book.
5 Stars.
May 6, 2019
A short read... not bad
Story of an underworld woman, the description of old Mumbai is enjoyable, language is simple. Overall a good time pass.
Story of an underworld woman, the description of old Mumbai is enjoyable, language is simple. Overall a good time pass.
April 25, 2020
📙The Wily Old Woman Of Dongri
ইটালিয়ান সিসিলিয়ান হোক কিংবা জাপানিস ইয়াকুযা মাফিয়াদের কর্মকাণ্ড সম্পর্কে অাগাম ধারণা করা প্রায় অসম্ভব। ভারতের মুম্বাই শহরের বস্তিতে বেড়ে ওঠা স্বাধীণতা অান্দোলনে অংশগ্রহণ এবং দারিদ্রতার কষাঘাতে অপরাধে জড়িয়ে পড়া। নিজের অাত্মপরিচয় প্রতিষ্ঠা করতে সক্ষম একজন অদ্ভুত নারী। বইটি পড়ে সত্যিই অদ্ভুত এ��� ধারণার জন্ম নিয়েছে, দ্বিধা দ্বন্দ্বে পড়েছি "পাপ কে ঘৃণা করব নাকি পাপী কে "
ইটালিয়ান সিসিলিয়ান হোক কিংবা জাপানিস ইয়াকুযা মাফিয়াদের কর্মকাণ্ড সম্পর্কে অাগাম ধারণা করা প্রায় অসম্ভব। ভারতের মুম্বাই শহরের বস্তিতে বেড়ে ওঠা স্বাধীণতা অান্দোলনে অংশগ্রহণ এবং দারিদ্রতার কষাঘাতে অপরাধে জড়িয়ে পড়া। নিজের অাত্মপরিচয় প্রতিষ্ঠা করতে সক্ষম একজন অদ্ভুত নারী। বইটি পড়ে সত্যিই অদ্ভুত এ��� ধারণার জন্ম নিয়েছে, দ্বিধা দ্বন্দ্বে পড়েছি "পাপ কে ঘৃণা করব নাকি পাপী কে "
April 16, 2019
The following small excerpt itself was very interesting and knowledgeable to read. A deep and detailed study has been done by the author, and the following excerpt has been written in a catchy and interesting way. This excerpt would definitely trigger the reader to read the full fledged version of the book. A definite recommended book.
September 27, 2021
The lesser-known cult of Jenabhai Daruwali who could hold with strings the most powerful among Bombay dons Dawood Ibrahim is not only revealing but makes for a compelling, page-turner. It's not easy to depict someone in 50 pages but Hussain Zaidi is an impressive writer in providing readers a mirror image of what went behind the scene. A super read.
April 30, 2018
It offers insight on the background of Jenabai, her rise from an ordinary single mother to the ranks of underworld, her shrewdness and some insights into her own life. A must read for anyone who wish to explore Mumbai's past history.
October 24, 2020
Just a high-level insight into Jenabai's life. Not great as other books of Sir Hussain Zaidi.
Do check out my full review in my blog
http://www.acharyareviews.in/2020/10/...
Do check out my full review in my blog
http://www.acharyareviews.in/2020/10/...
February 16, 2022
Written more like a fiction. An excerpt below to prove my point.
"Jenabai looked at the framed inscription of a saying from the Koran that hung on the wall opposite her kitchen and closed her eyes for a fraction of a second."
"Jenabai looked at the framed inscription of a saying from the Koran that hung on the wall opposite her kitchen and closed her eyes for a fraction of a second."
May 28, 2018
Good, short book with nuggets on life of Jenabai Daaruwaali and how she played her part through the evolution of Mumbai underworld.
October 24, 2018
Zaidi at his best again. A very small read on kindle which shows the power of a woman Jenabai and how she had hold on then gangsters and the police.
April 12, 2019
Nice read for old times sake
Sharp, short & crisp
It's the strength of a woman in face of all odds
Be it any time or era
Sharp, short & crisp
It's the strength of a woman in face of all odds
Be it any time or era
December 22, 2019
Interesting
Very interesting simple easy language, facts and myths surprisingly, unfold truth and reality of underworld, always recommended to read .
Very interesting simple easy language, facts and myths surprisingly, unfold truth and reality of underworld, always recommended to read .
May 26, 2020
It's not that good
The book does provide few instances in the life of Jenabai, however it's not engrossing like the other books of Hussain Zaidi.
The book does provide few instances in the life of Jenabai, however it's not engrossing like the other books of Hussain Zaidi.
October 31, 2023
short story of Jenabai Daaruwaali's life and her journey through the evolution of underworld.. It narrates the content with pioneers like Varadarajan Mudaliar and the rise of next gen gangsters..
June 25, 2021
Read it through because I found the subject really interesting, but the picture painted does not live up to it. A very brief description of her life, and not enough depth in the character.
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