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The Rediff Special/Syed Firdaus Ashraf

The junk man and the sea

It was March 29, Bakr-Id. For Salim Ahmed, 32, it was Sabbath. He had no plans that day to go to sea and, as was his wont, gather scrap from the merchant ships anchored near the harbour.

Moreover, he was expecting guests at home for lunch. But as there was still some time before the guests arrived, he couldn't resist trying out his new boat. Little did he realise that this ride was to be like no other.

As he ventured into the sea, he heard a loud sound and saw a helicopter plunge down like an arrow.

Without wasting a minute he sped towards the craft which was beginning to drown. On reaching the fast-sinking chopper -- belonging to the Indian Navy, as he could now make out -- he dived into the sea to help those trapped inside.

Luckily, the helicopter had gone down very close to the Colaba naval base and the sea there is shallow.

With great difficulty Salim managed to wrench open the chopper door and started dragging out the three men inside. Soon some of his friends who were in the vicinity joined him and together they managed to save the half-dead navy men.

Interestingly, weeks have passed since the incident, but the Indian Navy has neither given Salim -- who collects assorted scrap for a livelihood and stays at Sundari Nagar in Colaba -- an award nor acknowledged his bravery.

"I don't care for awards. My duty as a human being was to save those lives," says Salim.

But does he not feel bad about it?

"No, why should I feel bad? Anyone drowning in the sea, I would have saved him. It was only an accident that those people were Indian naval officials," he says.

It is not the first time Salim has done something like this -- which ordinary folk can only describe with the aid of superlatives, but which he in his usual self-effacing manner dismisses as something mundane. Earlier, he had helped the customs and Bombay police to nab smugglers.

In 1990, Salim came to know about the smuggling of four tons of silver near Colaba. He tipped off customs officials and the smugglers were nabbed. He was given a reward for it.

Another act of his which he is legitimately proud of is when he helped catch two Pakistani Inter-Services Intelligence agents who were involved in the smuggling of 23kg of heroine.

Salim lives in an area that sees considerable underworld activity. While never ever having strayed on the wrong side of the law, he is often in a devious way privy to what is happening in this subterranean world.

In the heroin case, as soon as he knew about a big deal getting underway he went to the Bombay police crime branch and informed them. The police officials were unwilling to believe him initially. But when he gave them concrete details the cops got interested and swung into action.

Salim disguised himself as a Marwari seth and convinced the ISI agents that he had come to buy the heroine. He carried off his act so well that the agents soon let down their guard and went out to bring some samples. He called in the cops and when the agents returned they were caught red-handed.

It is possible that these people will seek revenge. It is a thought that has crossed Salim's mind often. But his apparent nonchalance is not faked, when he exclaims, "No, why should I be afraid? I fear only God and my own conscience. Whatever has to happen will happen."

Salim's father was a driver in a private company. Even as a small boy he was always attracted to the sea. It's a fascination he cannot explain.

"I have a strange love for the sea. I derive great pleasure when foraying into the deep sea. And I have tailored my livelihood in such a way that it meshes with this emotional need of mine," says Salim.

Salim has never had the luck to pursue a formal education to any significant length: he dropped out after class two. But dreams of education are sublimated in him.

Realising that he himself has little chance to pursue learning, he wants his only daughter to get what he was denied. He wants her to become highly qualified and take up the Indian Police Service as a vocation.

It is not only the aura of the uniform, the epaulettes or the revolving lights that attracts him to the force. "I am a small man and I know what power the police can command in our lives. And, mind you, contrary to what is often said, it is not always the wrong kind of power. They can and do a lot of good for marginal communities like us," he says.

Unlike most of his friends he is not interested in fishing. "You can't be assured of a catch everyday. Often it is difficult to make both ends meet. Gathering scrap might not be romantic, but as a livelihood it is at least more secure than returning home with empty nets," Salim quips.

Romantic. Well, in the final analysis, that is what defines this otherwise very ordinary man: his romance about the sea, his romance about the cops who to him remain the good guys.

The Rediff Specials

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