EP 5 – Iran As I knew it : Aaahhhh…Here comes Tehran

Having travelled from Bombay to Khorramshahr and further by train to Tehran, now it was almost for 10 days that we were traveling….it was a kind of colourful mosaic that got imprinted in my memory by that time.

I remember traveling from the age of four, crisscrossing South Asia seeing various major cities starting from Delhi, Lahore, Kabul, Calcutta, Rangoon, Mandalay, Bombay, Khorramshahr and now Tehran. Such traveling was done by road, rail and also first time a very bumpy air travel from Rangoon to Mandalay in a vintage twin propeller DC3 belonging to Union Of Burma Airways. Then two Voyages by ship – Calcutta to Rangoon and now three years later from Bombay to Khorramshahr.

So by the age of 10 years, I had seen three foreign countries with different cultures and languages and also came to know and understood the differences therein. Different languages interested me a lot. Apart from Hindi, Punjabi and English (started reading Readers Digest from 1957 at the age of seven), I could also speak Pashtun and Burmese fluently. Here in Tehran now our driver also began trying to teach us some basic sentences in Persian language.

Tehran was the best city visited so far and very modern, beautifully laid out with vast public gardens, wide roads with neat spacious pavements and tree lined graceful boulevards.

While my dad was busy with official work including getting briefing by the embassy staff, me and my sister had the most three wonderful days of our lives in Tehran. I saw many new things for the first time here on city tour with the Indian Embassy local guide.

Morning around 9 am, the Indian Embassy car would come to our hotel. After dropping off our dad at the embassy, the Iranian driver would take us for the day outing. He could speak enough of Urdu to make us understand every thing.

We first saw the Kings Palace and next the biggest mall of Tehran. Both were a mesmerizing experience for us. For the first time I also saw a TV, an escalator and a lift and such a vast and exciting market place, had never seen anything like that before. There were telephone kiosks on the pavements all full of wonders. People sat on tables and chairs under canopies in the open air restaurant, enjoying get to together while having food and beverages.

In spite of all this there was no rush or overwhelming crowds like India…no tongas or rickshaws, just sleek cars everywhere with police men in smart uniforms on motorcycles patrolling around.

That was Tehran a city in the East, in every way rivaling any European city in prosperity and culture. Most of the upper middle class children went to Paris for college education and returned home well educated. I also noticed that all important information at prominent places were indicated in Persian, French and Italian languages but surprisingly no English.

Time flew by and on the last day in Tehran our dad took us along on some essential shopping. He wanted to buy some cooking utensils here as he was advised that Zahedan, being a small town wouldn’t have those necessities.

We went to one of the glittering Mall and did some major shopping. Items included a German Grundig Tape Recorder, a Kodak Camera, a pressure cooker (not seen in India then) and an Air Gun for me with three tins of pellets. It was a good German brand Diana model 15….a gun in my hand. Oh, it gave me such a high that that just couldn’t wait without firing this gun..

The gun salesman first gave a demo of cleaning the gun. Next he folded the barrel till one heard a click sound, then the pellet was inserted into the chamber. Keeping the gun steady, the barrel was then straightened and now the gun was ready for use. He then gave a firing demo with target 30 yards away. I was told that the gun could be very dangerous and could cause serious injury’s and so to handle it with care.

I couldn’t contain my excitement and while having lunch at the mall, I sneakily loaded the air gun while dad was busy, just kind of feeling confident and was kept the loaded air gun by my side. Suddenly the trigger got pressed accidently and the gun fired….the pellet hit the restaurant roof.

You can imagine the chaos that must have followed. I got a nice slap, dad apologized profusely to the manager who let the incident pass. We left the lunch unfinished and went back to the hotel room. Dad gave me another slap after closing the room door. I was in tears while my gun was packed in a big box for the rest of the journey.

What a terrible way it was to leave lovely Tehran!!