One afternoon in my Mumbai office, just after lunch, my manager called me on the intercom to his cabin. I was surprised to find our DGM there. He informed me that Tata Consulting Engineers (TCE) needed my expertise as a Cable Engineer for a client in Iran and directed me to TCE’s Project Division for details. I was then an employee of Tata Hydroelectric Power Supply Company, now Tata Power.
The next day, I was briefed on the project and deputation terms for TAVANIR, Iran’s Power Authority. While it was beneficial to my career, I had to discuss it with my wife, as it meant a two-year stay without family, with paid leave every six months. With two young children, the eldest (my son) just above ten and a daughter still a toddler, we deliberated before I agreed. However, the project details and living conditions remained unclear until I arrived in Tehran!
TAVANIR, the Power Authority of Iranian Ministry, engaged the consultancy services of TATA’s to oversee the installation and commissioning of their 66kV Power Distribution network. That’s how, in 1977, I became a part of a team of three engineers deputed as consultants, to oversee the installation and commissioning of a large 66kV underground cable network. The other two team members were assigned to manage civil work and sub-station erection.
That’s how we, the three musketeers, landed up in Chabahar, Iran!
The representative of TAVANIR briefed me that the project site was an upcoming defense base and explained the expanse of the project, scope of work and living facilities at site, etc. He also gently warned me that being a defense base, it would be under the surveillance of Iran’s Secret police…the SAVAK!
Under the rule of Mohamed Reza Shah Pahlavi, also known as Shah of Iran – plans were afoot since mid-1976 to set up a vital defense base comprising the Navy, Air Force and Army of the US at Chabahar, a strategically located port close to the Strait of Hormuz. Why vital? Because you could scuttle a few junk ships in the narrowest part of this strait and ensure that no oil tankers could find their way in and out of the Gulf…take a look at the map! (Map 1) A virtual stranglehold on the region’s transport route.
The project was actually in a place called Konarak (loosely termed as Chabahar) which was a sparsely populated desert, sprinkled with an occasional oasis or a hamlet of the local Baluchi inhabitants. It would be interesting to know that Baluchistan, which is spread across the Iranian and West Pakistan territories, had a very porous border. Our base camp was located at Konarak, about 70 km by road from Chabahar Town. (refer Map 2).
There were only two seasons: 1) Summer, peaking at 53oC and 2) Not so hot summer, peaking at 42oC! We stayed in camping cabins that were thankfully air-conditioned! Breakfast, lunch and dinner (no free meals!) were served at the Iranian camp diner. The menu primarily consisted of chicken, eggs, beef, mutton, naan, and occasional rice recipes. The three of us being vegetarians, the only vegetables we could find were lemon and onions in salads! Life in the desert was tough, and family status was denied.
The Project Head from the Iranian Ministry for Power (TAVANIR) learnt of our plight and provided facilities like a gas range, fridge, utensils etc. We sourced a portable cabin (like a camper), scrounged around for a wash basin, etc. from the Iranian camp next door. Since I am a do-it-yourself (DIY) kind of a guy, I set up the kitchen – complete with power source, lighting, water inlets, wash basin, drainage, cook top, etc.
These were the late 70’s and Chabahar at that time was the only outpost closest to us for survival. It provided us:
♦ Telephonic connectivity to Tehran, the capital of Iran, and overseas to India
♦ The facility to send and receive surface mail
♦ Petrol and diesel for our vehicles
♦ Medical aid facility at the Red Crescent Hospital
♦ Our day-to-day essentials and consumables
While we were camped practically on the seashore, the work sites of the Army, Navy, and Air Force defense bases were spread over a large area, and we would easily cover anywhere between 70-80 km a day, driving between the sites to oversee and monitor the progress at each site. Barring the electric substation, the naval base was exclusively under the control of the US Navy for security and other reasons.
Given the intense heat, the working hours were, mercifully, from 7 am to 12 noon and from 2 pm to 5 pm. And oh yes, officially it was a 5-day work week, with Thursday and Fridays as our weekly off. It really didn’t matter as we didn’t live with our families and so we didn’t have anywhere to go and spend time on the weekends.
The 5-day week was a joke, at least for us Asians. The Swedish, British, French, and Italians would hold barbecue parties with fresh livestock slaughtered on site. We were rarely invited and even on that odd day, we wouldn’t relish it as most of us were vegetarians and teetotalers.
We had a lot to do ourselves over the weekends. We had to stock diesel and replenish our food supplies for at least a fortnight and speak to our families back in India. We had to use the Land Rover, driven by me, to travel 70 km each way, to Chabahar town and back.
Communication over the phone, especially outside the country, was a challenge in itself. Since there were only landlines those days, we had to book an international call (in India we called it Standard Trunk Dialing – STD). We would wait for hours to get our turn and since the call was timed, we would receive reminders of the minutes remaining and that would momentarily disrupt our train of thought of what we wanted to convey in those precious minutes. On an unlucky day, the call would disconnect due to technical issues. And to top it all, we had to be wary of what we said, as we had a feeling that the lines were tapped!!!
Logistics in terms of our movement in and out of Konarak to other cities was only by air using chartered flights that operated once a week to Shiraz. This arrangement was free and exclusively meant for project personnel. From Shiraz, we had to use regular commercial airlines to move to other cities in Iran, including Tehran.
The flights from Tehran would bring much-awaited mail from our families – written by them weeks before and received by TAVANIR’s office in Tehran. These flights also carried much-needed condiments and essential ingredients required for our kitchen, sent by our counterparts in Tehran.
Konarak had a dubious record. While we could get items like processed food, white goods, alcohol, and even SUVs smuggled from the UAE across the Gulf of Oman (refer Map 1) in dhows, we could not access fresh fruits and vegetables or even a carton of processed milk (we had to make do with milk powder).
In early 1978, around Navroz, we heard whispers about an ongoing revolution to overthrow the monarchy. History unfolded as the royals were deposed, and a strict religious regime took control. Though it was an internal matter, it created immense insecurity among all the expats. As soon as the revolution took momentum in mid-1978, The Revolutionary Guards, loyal to the incoming rulers, operated with unchecked authority, targeting foreigners, especially Americans, as the Chabahar defense base was being built by the US. The British, Italian, and French nationals were also at risk and had fled by late 1978. Only we three Indians, a few Sri Lankans, Bangladeshis, and some local Baluchi employees remained on-site.
Push came to shove in a way that was both unpleasant and serendipitous! We were in the habit of sitting outside the camper to have dinner every night, next to the parked Land Rover. On one such night, a shot rang out and the next thing we heard was a bullet whiz past me and hit the parked Land Rover! Deciding enough was enough; we packed up and decided to leave for Tehran via Shiraz by the chartered flight that came in once a week from Shiraz.
The flight, meant for base personnel, was free, but a Revolutionary Guard, wielding an M16, barred us as “Khariji” (foreigners). With no choice, we abandoned the site and most belongings, taking a bus to Tehran, nearly 2,000 km — facing multiple checkpoints and harassment. By the time we arrived, winter had set in, but we were still dressed for Chabahar’s summer!
Our troubles continued as the government machinery came to a standstill, disrupting money transfers. A daily limit was imposed on fund repatriation, forcing us to queue outside the bank from 7 am in the freezing winter, waiting for our turn to remit money.
In January 1979, Shah Reza Pahlavi fled, allowing Ayatollah Khomeini’s return on February 1. Expats were advised to stay indoors, and we watched from terraces as jubilant crowds and Revolutionary Guards welcomed him with great fanfare.
Obtaining our exit visa was a challenge, as ministry employees had deserted their offices due to the revolution. After settling our dues, our parent company paid us in Iranian Rials, nearly worthless in India. We managed to exchange them for US dollars at an exorbitant rate.
Finally, I got my exit visa and left for the airport! The gun-toting trigger-happy Revolutionary Guards were there too. My check-in and cabin baggage were thoroughly checked (I had no idea what it was they thought I would be carrying from a country that had been impoverished overnight)! The Guards found a couple of audio cassette tapes of Iranian songs sung by a famous singer (of the Shah regime), Googoosh. She too had fled Iran. The tapes were crushed and destroyed by them with the butts of their automatic weapons.
Only on planting my feet on Indian terra firma, did I realize that with nothing better to do, I had grown a beard in Baluchi style. When my family came to receive me at the airport, my five-year-old daughter let out a shriek on seeing me!
Though there are instances I would rather forget, like the bullet whizzing past me, I am able to recollect the minute details at this age since they are firmly etched in my memory for posterity!
At the Chabahar site.. the author with his trustworthy pal, his (ramshackle) Land Rover (with no AC) who bore the brunt of the harsh climate and harsh terrain.
The temperatures would rise to 52oC, so high that you could actually cook a sunny side up on its bonnet!
About: Balakumar V.
As he approaches his 85th birthday, he finds joy in reflecting on his journey. The youngest of four siblings, his childhood unfolded in Kolkata, Delhi, and Mumbai (in that order). By his own admission, he wasn’t an exceptional student, but neither was he dull—with a mind always brimming with curiosity. At the tender age of eleven, he had dismantled a German KIENZLE alarm clock, only to fail at reassembling it—earning a memorable thrashing from his father!
Recognizing his inquisitive nature, his father gifted him a Fretwork toolkit on his 12th birthday, setting him on a creative path. He soon ventured into aeromodelling and electronics, eventually pursuing engineering, a career his father had envisioned for him. He stepped into the engineering college just as his father retired, studying on his modest pension.
His career spanned thirty years at Tata Electric, followed by a stint in Bahrain’s R&D section of the Distribution Directorate of the Ministry of Electricity and Water until 2002, when he finally hung up his boots. Even in retirement, his DIY passion thrives—at 85, he built a tool chest on wheels using electric and hand tools! Creativity keeps life exciting—is his lifelong Mantra!
Mr. Balakumar can be reached at chandrasekarbalakumar@gmail.com
