Afghan boy’s ordeal recalls Indian stowaway tragedy

When a 13-year-old boy from Afghanistan sneaked into the wheel well of a plane from Kabul to Delhi, his short-lived escape immediately stirred memories of a far more dramatic—and tragic—incident from three decades ago. Back in 1996, two brothers from Punjab, India, attempted the same perilous method to reach the UK. Only one survived, and his case became a medical rarity. That survivor, after years of struggle, eventually secured residence in Britain and worked at Heathrow Airport.
The Afghan teenager, from Kunduz, was quickly discovered upon landing in Delhi. Airport authorities sent him back within hours, deeming him harmless. He explained to officials that curiosity drove him to attempt the dangerous journey. Astonishingly, he carried a small speaker along for the two-hour flight.
The Punjab brothers’ case, however, was born of desperation. In October 1996, Pardeep Saini, 23, and his younger brother Vijay, 19, decided to flee their lives as car mechanics. With fears of being linked to Punjab militancy and little hope of securing visas, they turned to an agent in Delhi. After paying £150, they were told they could slip into a plane’s luggage hold through the wheel well—a fatal deception.
That night, they crawled onto the runway and climbed into the undercarriage of a Boeing 747. As the aircraft soared 10 km high, the brothers endured deafening noise, searing heat from the wheels, and then brutal sub-zero temperatures of nearly –60°C. With only thin cotton clothes, they froze in silence. At some point, Vijay died. Pardeep blacked out, remembering nothing until he woke up in detention in London—alone.
Vijay’s body had fallen thousands of feet as the plane prepared to land at Heathrow, discovered days later in Surrey. Pardeep, meanwhile, staggered into the hands of ground staff, bewildered and half-conscious.
Pilots and doctors marvelled at his survival, attributing it to a mysterious state of suspended animation. But survival came with scars: recurring nightmares, grief, and years of trauma. His uncle once said, “Some call him the luckiest man alive. But he often wonders if surviving was a curse.”
Though his first asylum plea was rejected, public sympathy, including appeals from British politicians, eventually helped him stay in the UK. He built a life in London and worked at Heathrow. Now in his fifties, his current whereabouts remain unknown.


