One was a retired Indian traffic cop, making his first trip to London with his wife for a joyous occasion — the birth of their first grandchild. Another, a hotel manager, was returning to Britain with his young family after a quick visit to his mother’s side in India for her heart procedure.
For dozens of others, the idea of boarding a flight wasn’t even in reach — tea sellers, local law clerks, medical students, people who carried on with life in the shadow of the air traffic from the nearby airport.
All were among the more than 260 victims of the Air India flight from Ahmedabad to London’s Gatwick Airport that crashed into the facilities of a nearby medical college on Thursday, moments after take off.
For those left behind, the devastation of their loss was compounded by the torturous scenes that played out at the city’s main hospital. The bodies were so badly damaged that more than 24 hours after the crash, fewer than 10 had been identified and released to their families, officials said.
For the rest, authorities were carrying out DNA tests.
As family members waited to give blood for DNA sampling at the postmortem department of Ahmedabad’s Civil Hospital, there was shock, anger and despair. For some relatives, the wait became part vigil — telling anyone and everyone memories of loved ones, so full of life just yesterday and now confined to the mortuary, out of reach.
“They were my everything, they were my support,” said Anil Patel, 60, whose son Harshit, 30, and Harshit’s wife Pooja, 28, were among the victims.
Mr. Patel, who was accompanied by several friends who tried to console him every time he began sobbing, said Harshit had moved to Britain with Pooja, who was studying for a master’s degree. They had returned to India for a brief visit to see a doctor, after Pooja had health complications.
He said that both his son and daughter-in-law worried about his loneliness, as his wife had died of breast cancer six years ago. They would video call him every day, and on their visit they had made sure Mr. Patel got a passport so that he could visit them soon in Leicester.
“They bid goodbye and went happily,” he said about dropping them off at the airport.
Javed Ali, the hotel manager in London, had come to India with his wife Mariam and their two young children. It was a short trip, about a week, to be at his mother’s side for her heart procedure.
“He studied hard, worked hard. That’s how he made it in London,” said Rafeek Abdul Aziz Ahmed, Mr. Ali’s uncle. “He had just begun to make a life for himself.”
Mr. Ali’s aunt, Salma Rafeek, showed a picture of the family, all smiles before they boarded the plane. His brother, Imtiaz, who gave his blood sample for the DNA testing, said he still hadn’t accepted the loss.
“I am not ready to believe they are no more,” he said. “I will lose control of my life if I do.”
Bhogilal Parmar, 63, and his wife, Hansaben Parmar, 60, were traveling to London for the birth of their grandchild and had spent the last few days shopping for clothes and gifts to take with them. The birth was expected within a week.
Their son, who has lived in Britain for seven years, was now on his way to India to claim his parents’ bodies for the final rites, said Himanshu Parmar, a relative.
“Their son is on the way to Ahmedabad alone,” said Mr. Parmar. “Some neighboring Gujarati families will help” when the baby arrives in London, he added.
Among those caught in the inferno at the crash site were Akash Suraj Bhai Patni, 14, and his mother, Sitaben, who had made a living selling tea at a stall where the plane crashed. While Sitaben is receiving treatment for burns at the trauma center, Akash did not make it.
“He was my mother’s support,” said Kajal, Akash’s sister, as she sat outside the hospital. Their brother wailed in anguish.
Among the other victims was Sanjana Palkhivala, 25, a portfolio manager for a financial services company, who was traveling to London on a business trip.
Ms. Palkhivala traveled so often that her parents had done away with the customary drop-offs at airport. But yesterday, her mother had come with her to the airport.
“It must’ve been a mother’s sixth sense,” said Sanjay Chhibber, a family friend.
Mr. Chhibber, who carried large color photos of Ms. Palkhivala and showed them to anyone who asked, said the parents had come to the hospital late on Thursday, giving blood and swab samples for the DNA testing.
“But today it’s hit them,” he said. “That is why I am here and they are not.”
Hari Kumar contributed reporting from New Delhi.
Pragati K.B. is a reporter for The Times based in New Delhi, covering news from across India.
Suhasini Raj is a reporter based in New Delhi who has covered India for The Times since 2014.
Mujib Mashal is the South Asia bureau chief for The Times, helping to lead coverage of India and the diverse region around it, including Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Nepal and Bhutan.
The post Lives Lost in India Crash: Expectant Grandparents, a Boy Selling Tea appeared first on New York Times.
