The rains and flooding that paralysed Mumbai on June 19 took the national media by storm, but a much bigger tragedy unfolding in one suburban slum has received little attention outside the city. Since June 18, at least 102 people from Malwani’s Lakshmi Nagar slum have died of methanol poisoning after consuming illicit liquor, with 46 more still being treated in hospitals.
The liquor – locally-available hooch typically sold in plastic pouches for Rs 10 or Rs 20 – turned fatal because either the brewers or suppliers had adulterated it with an excessive dosage of toxic methanol. Six days since the death toll began mounting, the Mumbai police has arrested seven people involved in the illicit business, while suspending four excise officials and eight local police officials for negligence.
The catastrophe has pushed chief minister Devendra Fadnavis to order an investigation into the incident and announce a Rs 1 lakh compensation for each victim’s family. But deep inside Lakshmi Nagar, where mourners in every other house are struggling to process the horror of the mass deaths, the real human cost of the hooch tragedy is grimly evident.
‘We never protested against daru before’
Lakshmi Nagar, one of many slum settlements in Malwani, is diverse in many ways. Its residents are a mix of Maharashtrians, North Indian Hindus, Muslims and Christians, and its residents work in a variety of unskilled professions, from plumbing and painting to construction and sweeping. The one thing common to almost all households is the culture of drinking at the end of a hard day’s labour – a routine that went horribly wrong last week.
“We had never protested against daru [alcohol] before. After all, a little bit of drink after heavy manual work helps you sleep at night,” said Shantabai Sabale, 65, a retired domestic worker who is reeling from a double tragedy: between Friday and Monday, she lost both her sons to the hooch they had been drinking with their friends on the night of June 18.
Shantabai’s sons – 40-year-old Raju and 35-year-old Arjun – were both freelance house painters who brought home Rs 200 or 300 a day each and, between them, struggled to send five children to school. Up till a few months ago, they restricted their drinking habits to government-licensed country liquor available in local stores. “But the price of that daru was increased a few months ago, so they switched to the cheaper hooch that is available all over our basti,” she said.
‘We will try to keep at least one out of five kids in school’
The day after they drank the poisoned hooch, Raju and Arjun woke up very late with feelings of unease that quickly escalated into seizures. They were rushed to Kandivli’s Shatabdi Hospital, where half of Laxmi Nagar’s families were already receiving news of death. Arjun was declared dead on Friday, but Raju remained in intensive care for three more days before succumbing.
“I know there were a lot of hooch patients in the hospital, but we don’t think there has been much effort to save the ones who were still living,” said Balu Dhoble, Shantabai’s son-in-law who also lost a young nephew to the tragedy. “I saw doctors shoving instruments down Raju’s throat so roughly, his teeth began to break.”
Girija Dhoble, Raju and Arjun’s sister, is inconsolable and brimming with guilt. “Two days before June 18, a couple of people in the slum did die of similar symptoms but I was the only one who made the connection with hooch,” said Girija. “I did try to warn my brothers not to drink that night, but they denied drinking anything.”
Arjun, whose wife had died two years ago, is survived by two children left in Shantabai’s care. Raju is survived by three children and his widow is now looking for a job. “My sons really wanted their children to study, so we will try to keep at least one out of the five grandchildren in school,” said Sabale.
‘We want the culprits hanged’
A few houses down the line, Kamlabai Ahire is grieving her son Ashok, a 39-year-old who worked as an auto driver and a painter to feed his mother, wife and child.
“Ashok was not in the habit of drinking every day, but that night he went with his friends, and see what happened,” said Kamlabai. Ashok woke up the next morning with burning eyes, a clenched jaw and tightening body muscles, and died as soon as he was hospitalised.
Kamlabai does not practice Hinduism any more, but she is now busy preparing for Ashok’s 10th-day condolence pooja with the prayers he would have preferred. In another part of the same basti, Ashok’s sister Musarrat Al-balushi is praying silent Quranic prayers for his soul.
“After I married a Muslim, Aai [mother] converted with me, but my brother said he would stick to his religion,” said Musarrat, smiling through tears. Religious differences had never stopped the family from staying united, but now, Kamlabai and Musarrat are not confident about how much collaboration their slum would demonstrate in clamping down on alcohol.
“All of us women want daru to disappear from here, but Lakshmi Nagar is a den of alcohol, charas, ganja and every kind of intoxicant,” said Kamlabai. “Those who get into the habit can never really give it up.”
In the narrow lanes of the slum, she says, it was no secret that the police collected haftas from hooch brewers and vendors. “If those people are ever let out of jail, the hooch business will start again,” said Musarrat. “That’s why the only thing we want is that the culprits – all of them – should be hanged.”
The liquor – locally-available hooch typically sold in plastic pouches for Rs 10 or Rs 20 – turned fatal because either the brewers or suppliers had adulterated it with an excessive dosage of toxic methanol. Six days since the death toll began mounting, the Mumbai police has arrested seven people involved in the illicit business, while suspending four excise officials and eight local police officials for negligence.
The catastrophe has pushed chief minister Devendra Fadnavis to order an investigation into the incident and announce a Rs 1 lakh compensation for each victim’s family. But deep inside Lakshmi Nagar, where mourners in every other house are struggling to process the horror of the mass deaths, the real human cost of the hooch tragedy is grimly evident.
‘We never protested against daru before’
Lakshmi Nagar, one of many slum settlements in Malwani, is diverse in many ways. Its residents are a mix of Maharashtrians, North Indian Hindus, Muslims and Christians, and its residents work in a variety of unskilled professions, from plumbing and painting to construction and sweeping. The one thing common to almost all households is the culture of drinking at the end of a hard day’s labour – a routine that went horribly wrong last week.
“We had never protested against daru [alcohol] before. After all, a little bit of drink after heavy manual work helps you sleep at night,” said Shantabai Sabale, 65, a retired domestic worker who is reeling from a double tragedy: between Friday and Monday, she lost both her sons to the hooch they had been drinking with their friends on the night of June 18.
Shantabai with photos of her sons.
Shantabai’s sons – 40-year-old Raju and 35-year-old Arjun – were both freelance house painters who brought home Rs 200 or 300 a day each and, between them, struggled to send five children to school. Up till a few months ago, they restricted their drinking habits to government-licensed country liquor available in local stores. “But the price of that daru was increased a few months ago, so they switched to the cheaper hooch that is available all over our basti,” she said.
‘We will try to keep at least one out of five kids in school’
The day after they drank the poisoned hooch, Raju and Arjun woke up very late with feelings of unease that quickly escalated into seizures. They were rushed to Kandivli’s Shatabdi Hospital, where half of Laxmi Nagar’s families were already receiving news of death. Arjun was declared dead on Friday, but Raju remained in intensive care for three more days before succumbing.
“I know there were a lot of hooch patients in the hospital, but we don’t think there has been much effort to save the ones who were still living,” said Balu Dhoble, Shantabai’s son-in-law who also lost a young nephew to the tragedy. “I saw doctors shoving instruments down Raju’s throat so roughly, his teeth began to break.”
Girija Dhoble, Raju and Arjun’s sister, is inconsolable and brimming with guilt. “Two days before June 18, a couple of people in the slum did die of similar symptoms but I was the only one who made the connection with hooch,” said Girija. “I did try to warn my brothers not to drink that night, but they denied drinking anything.”
Arjun, whose wife had died two years ago, is survived by two children left in Shantabai’s care. Raju is survived by three children and his widow is now looking for a job. “My sons really wanted their children to study, so we will try to keep at least one out of the five grandchildren in school,” said Sabale.
‘We want the culprits hanged’
A few houses down the line, Kamlabai Ahire is grieving her son Ashok, a 39-year-old who worked as an auto driver and a painter to feed his mother, wife and child.
“Ashok was not in the habit of drinking every day, but that night he went with his friends, and see what happened,” said Kamlabai. Ashok woke up the next morning with burning eyes, a clenched jaw and tightening body muscles, and died as soon as he was hospitalised.
Kamlabai does not practice Hinduism any more, but she is now busy preparing for Ashok’s 10th-day condolence pooja with the prayers he would have preferred. In another part of the same basti, Ashok’s sister Musarrat Al-balushi is praying silent Quranic prayers for his soul.
Kamlabai and Musarrat with a picture of Ashok.
“After I married a Muslim, Aai [mother] converted with me, but my brother said he would stick to his religion,” said Musarrat, smiling through tears. Religious differences had never stopped the family from staying united, but now, Kamlabai and Musarrat are not confident about how much collaboration their slum would demonstrate in clamping down on alcohol.
“All of us women want daru to disappear from here, but Lakshmi Nagar is a den of alcohol, charas, ganja and every kind of intoxicant,” said Kamlabai. “Those who get into the habit can never really give it up.”
In the narrow lanes of the slum, she says, it was no secret that the police collected haftas from hooch brewers and vendors. “If those people are ever let out of jail, the hooch business will start again,” said Musarrat. “That’s why the only thing we want is that the culprits – all of them – should be hanged.”
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