New Delhi: It was crowded. The Indian Airlines counter at the then sarkari Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi. No T1, T2 and T3 then. People were angry. Relatives of hostages taken after the hijacking of Indian Airlines flight IC814 were angry. They were asking why the flight from Kathmandu to New Delhi was delayed by so many hours. Many must have known given that the news was already flashing across TV channels. But, they were not asking the real question. Then my turn came at the counter.
I asked: “Please tell me if IC 814 has been hijacked.” I was met with a deafening silence. Twenty-five years is a long time. December 24, 1999. Memories do come flooding in with the cinematic adaptation of that incident being streamed these days on an OTT platform.
Evening, December 24, 1999. A 'barsati' at Krishna Market area of Lajpatnagar in Delhi. I was working on a script for a documentary I was preparing for. At the same time, I was already getting ready to go to the airport. My father, the late Dr Kalyan Chandra Bhuyan, was on IC 814. Serving at Kathmandu Medical College, he was taking the annual ritual of coming to Delhi in winter and then proceeding to our home in Assam before returning to Kathmandu to join his duties.
But, that particular Christmas Eve was special. After all, he was coming to Delhi to celebrate the birthday of my youngest brother the next day, Christmas. Heck, no. Two birthdays. I have twin brothers. The youngest one was staying with me in Delhi while the elder one was in Assam. Mother was already with us in Delhi. Anticipations were high for a celebration with family and friends.
Rollback to that December 24, 1999, evening. The internet was pretty nascent in India in those days. I made a call to Indian Airlines about the flight status of IC 814. I was told that it was delayed.
Then came the first call. My mama (maternal uncle) from Jorhat asked me whether Bhindew (the Assamese word for elder sister’s husband) had landed in Delhi. I told him that the flight had been delayed. He was a good friend of my father.
Then came his second call. The fateful call. “I think Bhindew’s flight has been hijacked,” Mama informed me, “Check TV.” I jolted up from the desk where I was working and put on the TV. Sure enough, there was coverage of the IC 814’s flight status. Then the rush to the airport.
Again, 25 years is a long time. It is difficult to recollect day-by-day events during that weekl-ong ordeal. But yes, after returning from the airport, I put on the TV. All this time, we were hiding the facts from my mother. She would have been shocked and her blood pressure would have shot up. But then, eventually, we had to break the news to her as she could have seen the events on TV anyway.
Lajpatnagar those days was filled with Assamese. Students, young professionals. When they came to know what was happening – they were planning for the birthday celebrations the next day--they came rushing in-- in no time, my little 'barsati' at Krishna Market was filled with people. Not only our friends from Assam and the Northeast but neighbours, other families in our building and our landlord, too. Everybody was there lending emotional support.
Meanwhile, one of our friends, out of sheer tension, started boiling 20 eggs in one pan on the kitchen gas stove. When I asked him what was he up to, he replied: “Don’t worry, Aroonimda, you just track the developments on TV.” That is an abiding memory.
Christmas Eve night. TV was on. Saw the aircraft landing at Amritsar. People around me were animatedly discussing that this was the chance to shoot the aircraft’s tyres and stall it there. But, then, it did not happen. The aircraft took off. The next stop is Lahore. Late into the night. We were all bleary-eyed. Nevertheless, kept following the flight track on TV. Oh, ho, where is the plane heading? Dubai!
Our eyes were leaden. Sleep overcame us. December 25 morning. Christmas Day. My brothers’ birthdays. Switched on the TV. Where is the aircraft? Of all places, Kandahar, Afghanistan! So, my father and all the passengers in IC 814 are in Taliban territory. That was the first thought that struck my mind.
By then, my mama, who informed me about the hijacking in the first place, landed up at my place. So did my father’s youngest brother who flew down from Guwahati.
I also remember that esteemed journalist and then minister Arun Shourie in the Atal Bihari Vajpayee government called a press conference. I went there, not as a journalist, but as a person curious to know what he had to say about the latest developments as far as IC 814 was concerned. However, what happened there left me shocked. The place was filled with angry relatives demanding answers about what would happen to the passengers.
Further on, what happened there and the aftermath? What about the media’s role?
Here, I quote Shourie from his article in the South Asia Terrorism Portal: “When the hijacked Indian aircraft IC 814 was in Kandahar, Afghanistan, media were full of the shouting of the relatives of the passengers. This barrage, I can testify from personal knowledge, weighed heavily on the key decision-makers. It was one of the main factors that led them to decide that there was no alternative but to accept the demands of the hijackers and release the Pakistani terrorists that the hijackers had demanded. The moment the terrorists were released, the same newspapers were pontificating about the ‘abject surrender to terrorism’, they were contrasting the pusillanimity of the Indian government with the example of Israel, they were lecturing the same government they had, by their selective coverage, pressurised with reminders of the policy of the US – ‘No negotiations with terrorists.’”
Amidst that turmoil-filled week, I returned home one evening, very weary. I was met by my and my brother’s friends who had set camp on my 'barsati'. “Aroonimda, we took part in the protests.”
I asked: “What protest? Who were you protesting against?” They replied that they were protesting against the government for not ensuring the release of the hostages. At first, I was flummoxed. And then it dawned on me that the relatives of the hostages were drawing parallels with the release of kidnapped Rubaiya Sayeed, daughter of former Jammu and Kashmir Chief Minister Mufti Mohammad Sayeed, for the exchange of five JKLF terrorists way back in 1989. That was a decade back from the time of the IC814 hijacking.
Then again, I remember, that then Minister for Railways Mamata Banerjee invited a few relatives of the hostages to give them an update about the situation. I was among them. During the interaction, she made a terrifying revelation: the hijackers had planted a bomb in the belly of the aircraft!
I came out of the interaction laughing. I thought she was exaggerating things. For nearly 25 years now, I still laughed about that interaction. It was only after watching the OTT web series that I realised that what she had said was true. It sent a chill down my spine.
Whether it be a relative lying in a hospital in a serious condition or a dear one held hostage in a hijacked aircraft, you tend to become religious. You turn to God. It was no different for me and my family. I, my mother, my brother and our friends and relatives visited the Hanuman Mandir on Baba Kharak Singh Marg at Connaught Place and offered prayers. We visited St Thomas Church at RK Puram too and offered prayers. And so did the relatives of the other hostages.
Meanwhile, a friend of mine alerted me about the ongoing negotiations between the Indian government and the hijackers. He said that one of his friend’s father is part of the negotiating team of the Indian government. At first, I took it at face value. But, soon enough, I realised that there was a grain of truth in it.
The ordeal was nearing a week by then. It was close to the turn of the millennium. New Year 2000 was approaching. Our eyes were glued to the TV. And then came the news. A deal has been struck and the hostages will be released on December 31, 1999. I don’t remember how I reacted. But I remember making hasty preparations to rush to the airport.
Late in the evening, we reached the airport. The terminal was full of people. Relatives of the hostages, media and who have you. Once the Indian Airlines replacement plane bringing back the hostages from Kandahar parked near the terminal, our eyes were riveted on the aircraft’s staircases. The occupants started alighting. And then I saw him. He got down from the rear staircase. He was wearing a thick leather and fur jacket.
Late at night, we came back home to Lajpatnagar. I had kept a bottle of brandy so that my father could get over the ordeal and have a restful night. Outside the room on the 'barsati', craziness prevailed. Happy New Year 2000 it was!
Morning, January 1, 2000. Breakfast done. And as was his habit, father took out his 'sorota' (Assamese word for a betel nut-cutter). He started cutting the betels he had with him. Much against our advice, despite being a doctor, father could not get over this habit of chewing betel nuts and leaves.
While chopping off a betel nut, he casually remarked: “Burger had a problem with me using the 'sorota' in the aircraft.”
Stunned, I was at a loss for words. I then asked him: “What did you say again?”
“I was getting bored inside the aircraft,” he replied. “So I thought of having tamul paan (Assamese words for betel nut and leaf). I took out a betel nut and started chopping it with the 'sorota'. Burger asked me what this (sorota) was and I explained it to him. I saw that he was a little concerned.”
Burger was the codename of one of the five hijackers that took IC 814 to Kandahar.
Still trying to manage my thoughts, I asked father with a lot of anger inside me: “You mean you kept the 'sorota' in your cabin luggage?”
“Yes, so?” he nonchalantly replied. “I always have it with me.”
It was then that I realised the security lax at that point in time at the Tribhuvan International Airport in Kathmandu. If one watches the current OTT series carefully, it is well too evident.
It was the morning after. So, other questions flew in fast. Not just from me but from others as well.
Food was one of the first questions. What did he have when the Airbus A300 was parked at the Kandahar airport?
“It is Ramadan,” he said. “However, we were served some non-vegetarian food. I had no problem. However, there were vegetarian passengers too. I think they were also served food that they wanted.”
As an afterthought, he added: “I was feeling very thirsty. There was no drinking water inside the aircraft at Kandahar initially.”
So, how did he manage?
“One of the hijackers came and gave me a can of beer that was available, I think, inside the plane,” he replied.
So, what were the conditions inside the aircraft?
“It was stifling, suffocating,” he explained. “Though it is the heart of winter, I and others were sweating profusely inside the plane.”
And? “The entire aircraft was stinking. The toilets were overflowing. I just couldn’t go to relieve myself,” he said with a grimace.
Father lived with us for a week or so in Delhi in January 2000. He then left for our hometown Jorhat in Assam to spend the rest of his vacation. From there, he returned to Nepal where he resumed his duties at the Kathmandu Medical College.
Years later, he would ask me once in a while with a naughty smile on his face: “I heard they are giving compensation to people taken hostage during the IC 814 hijacking.”
My reply: “Don’t even bring up this question. You being with us is compensation enough.” That was my reply. Always.
Meanwhile, the leather and fur jacket that he was wearing when he alighted from the aircraft in Delhi is still with me. Even after 25 years, it is a source of comfortable warmth during the heart of winter in Delhi.
(Disclaimer: This is a personal account of a relative of one of the hostages taken during the 1999 hijacking of Indian Airlines flight IC 814. The views are personal. This has nothing to do with the controversy surrounding the current OTT web series related to that incident or government decisions or policies in this connection.)
