For many families whose loved ones perished in the horrific Air India Flight AI171 crash in Ahmedabad, the journey toward closure is a grim one, marked not by funerals but by DNA testing kits and waiting rooms in government hospitals.
Among them was 28-year-old Khushboo Rajpurohit, a newlywed on her first trip to London to join her husband, a doctor. Their marriage was only six months old. Her dreams of a new life were brutally cut short when the Boeing 787 Dreamliner plunged into the student hostel complex of BJ Medical College minutes after takeoff on June 12. All but one of the 270 people on board and on the ground died in what has become one of India’s worst aviation disasters in decades.
“Her family has submitted DNA samples. We are waiting, hoping they’ll at least get to bring her home,” said Jagdish Rajpurohit, a grieving relative, his voice heavy with emotion.
The debris-strewn site and the Civil Hospital mortuary have now become epicentres of heartbreak, where hope wrestles with despair. With bodies charred beyond recognition, more than 100 relatives have submitted DNA samples for identification. Many don’t even have the solace of a final glimpse.
“My 50-year-old mother was making chapatis in the hostel mess kitchen for students. My two-year-old daughter was with her,” said Vijay Bhai, whose family had been running the mess for 15 years. He and his wife had stepped out briefly to deliver lunch to senior students nearby, a decision that saved their lives but cost them everything else.
“We’ve found no trace of them. Nothing. No body, no clothes, no bangles. Just silence. We’ve given DNA. That’s all we can do now,” he said, breaking down. The blast from the impact triggered a chain of gas cylinder explosions inside the mess, making survival impossible.
The crash site bore witness to countless such personal tragedies, and amid that sorrow were also stories of selfless courage. Two teenage brothers from a nearby colony, Ayush and Krish, rushed to the site as soon as they heard the explosion, helping pull out injured doctors and douse small fires.
“We thank the pilot,” said Krish. “If he hadn’t veered the plane slightly away from the residential area, hundreds more would have died. Nearly 1,500 to 1,700 people live just metres away.”
Ayush, his hands still bruised from moving debris, recalled the horror: “The cylinders kept exploding. We pulled out eight, one by one. The heat was unbearable. We saw students crushed under collapsed walls. One had a spoon still in his hand. Another… his brain was lying outside his skull.”
For most families, there is no body to cremate, no face to kiss goodbye. Only black ash, government paperwork, and the hope that a swab of saliva or strand of hair might confirm a painful truth.
A relative clutching an old photo of a smiling young woman whispered, “I didn’t even get to see her face. This is all I have now.”
At Ahmedabad’s Civil Hospital, authorities have set up temporary shelters for grieving families, many of whom have travelled from Rajasthan, Maharashtra, Gujarat, and even the UK. Counseling centers and trauma support desks are operating around the clock, though their words often fall short in the face of such overwhelming loss.
Meanwhile, a high-level investigation has been ordered by the Ministry of Civil Aviation. A multi-disciplinary panel will examine the root causes of the crash and suggest measures to prevent such tragedies in the future. On Friday, the Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB) confirmed that the black box, the Digital Flight Data Recorder, had been recovered from a rooftop near the crash zone. The Cockpit Voice Recorder is still being searched for. Early speculations point to possible mechanical failure or a bird strike, though nothing is confirmed yet.
Flight AI171 was carrying 242 people, including 169 Indian nationals, 53 Britons, 7 Portuguese citizens, and 1 Canadian. At least 29 people on the ground, students, hostel staff, mess workers, and children, were also killed.
As rescue operations continue, DNA remains the only thread connecting hundreds of grieving families to the last remains of their loved ones. In the face of overwhelming destruction, even fragments of identity have become precious.
For families like Khushboo Rajpurohit’s, who had once pinned their dreams on that flight, the loss is incalculable.
The plane that promised reunions and new beginnings has now left behind nothing but ashes and the slow, painful process of trying to bring them home.
