Last week, the Indian government announced that Russia had discharged dozens of the 91 Indians who were duped into fighting for Russian forces in the country’s war with Ukraine. Several of them have since returned home, while the process to bring others back is under way. The BBC’s Neyaz Farooquee spoke to some of the men about their struggles.
“I am in panic. I am not sure if I will return safely or in a box. Please save me.”
This is the message Urgen Tamang, a former Indian soldier, sent to the BBC from outside a southern Ukrainian city, a few days before he was discharged from the frontlines in Russia’s war against Ukraine, which entered its third year this February.
Mr Tamang is among the 91 Indians who were forced into fighting in the war. Most of them are from poor families and were lured by agents with the promise of money and jobs, sometimes as “helpers” in the Russian army.
Instead, they were sent to the war zone. Many of them said they were stationed in parts of Ukraine under Russian control, where they had to navigate landmines, drones, missiles and sniper attacks with little to no military training.
Nine Indians have died in the conflict so far and Indian authorities say they have arrested 19 people for human trafficking.
In July, Russia promised an early release of all Indians fighting in its army, following a visit by Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi to Moscow, during which he raised the issue with President Vladimir Putin. The two countries have traditionally shared a warm relationship.
Forty-five of them have been discharged since then. Some have safely returned home, while others like Mr Tamang are on their way.
“I can’t believe I am out of there,” said Sunil Karwa, an electrician from Rajasthan who joined the Russian army in February. Posted near Bakhmut, an eastern Ukraine city that has seen intense fighting, he was at the Moscow airport waiting to board his flight when he spoke to the BBC.
Mr Karwa described scenes of deaths and destruction, a reality which hit him the hardest when a man from his neighbouring village was shot on the battlefield.
“They sent him back on the frontline 15 days after the injury and he fainted in the field. He is paralysed now,” he said.
Like him, most of the other recruits were also blue-collar workers aged between 19 and 35, who were hired by agents based in India, Dubai and Russia.
They say their contracts were in Russian, a language they didn’t understand. Yet they signed it in the hope of getting better opportunities.
“The process was so quick – just a few signatures and photos and we were in [the army],” Mr Karwa said.
Raja Pathan joined the army as a last resort in February, after an education consultant deceived him into enrolling in a non-existent college.
“When I got there, I saw banners advertising recruitments for the army. By then, I had spent so much time and money that I decided to join anyway,” he said.
It was the death of two friends, which eventually pushed Mr Pathan to leave. He was released in August with the help of a sympathetic Russian commander who facilitated his exit.
Now based in Moscow, he helps other Indians escape from there.