World was closing in on me but helping hands of strangers guided me back to India
Times of India | 26 June 2025
123456 12 June, Tehran I came down from the Mount Damavand base camp, disappointed, after I had to return from near the summit when the weather turned bad. I went to meet the ambassador of India to Iran, Rudra Gaurav Shresth, at the embassy office. My flight to India was scheduled for the next day, and I packed my bags. I was planning to visit a few nearby places in the morning and chalked out my schedule. 13 June, Tehran
My phone buzzed at 6:45 am. It was my wife, Kanyakumari, who sent me a link to a news article. I clicked on it. Little did I know that it was the news that would change my life completely for the next 12 days. Israel launched airstrikes on Iran. The airspace was closed. It took a bit of time for the news to sink in. I came down to the hotel reception to learn more about it. The receptionist said that there was an attack by Israel, but he did not know much about it. I came out on the road, and the traffic looked normal. I called my guide Ramin to know more about it. Ramin was, however, hopeful that the airspace would open soon. My expedition agency agreed to pay for an extended stay. 14 June, TehranThe situation changed dramatically from late at night. For the first time, I witnessed missile-carrying drones flying over my head and dropping payloads somewhere nearby. It was almost like watching war movies. I couldn't sleep at night, clueless about what to do next. 15 June, TehranI called the embassy and they asked me to stay where I was. An advisory was being circulated on WhatsApp. The internet was still active, and local news channels were saying that the situation might worsen. A Gujarati friend proposed that we escape from Tehran. Ramin said that I should move towards the Iran-Azerbaijan border. By the afternoon, the internet services were shut down. 16 June, TehranThe situation turned worse with reports of intense bombings from across Iran. My wife, who was in touch with the embassy, figured out that exit through Turkmenistan or Turkey was not possible. Azerbaijan was the closest border, and Americans and Russians were crossing over. Baku was a three-hour drive from the Iran-Azerbaijan border, and she decided to apply for the e-visa with Azerbaijan. My internet connectivity was poor, and she booked my flight tickets and hotels in Baku. I had $200 with me and requested Ramin to book a car for me. He agreed to get the payment transferred after I reached India. 17 June, Tehran-AstaraIt was around 2:30 pm when our car drove through the roads that were packed with cars trying to escape Tehran. I could hear the loud noise of explosions now and then. I could see huge queues in front of petrol pumps and grocery stores. People were panicking and hoarding food and fuel. I could see plumes of smoke here and there. The Iranian govt issued an advisory for everyone to stay off roads. We spent the night in the courtyard of a mosque. 18 June, AstaraIt was past midnight when I reached Astara. I was hungry, but there was no shop nearby. I was sure of getting my e-visa. I reached the customs and immigration office there, and they said that I needed to get a migration code to cross the border. I pleaded with them, and they allowed me to cross, reminding me that the Azerbaijani guards would not allow me to enter without the code. The first entry point to Azerbaijan is a gate in the middle of the bridge. It was raining heavily, and I had a large rucksack. I was stopped at the gate, and they asked for the migration code. I pleaded with them to have a word with the Indian embassy in Baku. One of the security guards came towards me, took my rucksack, and threw it away. He pushed me and said, "Go back to Iran". The Azerbaijan border was a few steps away, and my hopes of escaping Iran were shattered. I broke down into tears and squatted on the bridge. One of the security guards pulled me up and pushed me back, towards Iran. I managed to drag myself to the customs and immigration office at Astara. A security guard at Astara shared food and water with me. I spent the night sleeping in the corner of the lobby outside the office. 19 June, AstaraI was exhausted. A middle-aged Iranian woman, Zohreh, found me sitting blank, came forward and spoke to me. She realised that I hadn't eaten anything in the past 24 hours. She took me to a tea shop and offered me tea and bread there. I felt a bit better. I told her that I was planning to move towards Armenia, but did not have enough money. Zohreh, a nurse by profession, promised to arrange a local taxi driver to help me reach the border. 20 June, AstaraArmenia turned down my e-visa application, leaving no choice for me other than moving to Mashhad. Indian embassy officials in Tehran had also suggested the same, and I decided to leave for Mashhad the next day. 21 June, Astara-MashhadI set out on a 1,500 km journey with Zafar, a local taxi driver. The roads were ominously empty, and an eerie silence loomed large. We were stopped by the police 100 km before Mashhad. They took me to the police station and searched my belongings. They interrogated me for nearly two hours. The embassy had already booked a room for me at a Mashhad hotel. After a long time, I had a decent dinner and a bed to sleep in. 22 June, MashhadI registered with the helpdesk at Mashhad for evacuation. There were long queues of Indians stranded in different parts of Iran. We heard that even a bigger number of Indians were planning to move to Mashhad. I realised this would be a 24-hour experience for the officials handling the helpdesk. 23 June, MashhadI got a call from the embassy in the afternoon, asking me to pack my bags and get ready for evacuation. By evening, we were at the airport ready to board the plane. Suddenly, news flashed on the mobile phones. Iran had gone for a missile strike, damaging the US airbase at Doha. I was scared of retaliation from the US, resulting in the closing of the airspace. I panicked, but the flight took off finally. I was back in New Delhi at 1:10 am.