Five minutes after take-off, it started shaking. After ten minutes, it was juddering like a cradle. The aeroplane was completely out of control. Cries and prayers started. The pilot tried to calm people down, but his voice was trembling so much that he couldn't finish his message. One of the crew fainted. Suffocating, vomiting, crying and praying.
The man next to me, with a face of pure horror, looked at me, and while my legs were out of control and my face probably colourless, I tried to calm him. He had a baby girl, and in a mournful voice was talking to her and kissing her.
I said goodbye to my family and friends, and I was sure that in a minute I'd be reduced to ashes.
This was my last night flight, on a 35-year-old 727 of an Iranian airline. Obviously, I'm alive because I'm writing this. We survived miraculously.
But the same thing happens far too often.
PLEASE STOP SANCTIONS ON THE SALE OF PASSENGER AIRCRAFT TO IRAN. NOW! DAMN IT, NOW!
Breathtaking as real!
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