Every hour an eternity as plane crash victims' families wait for DNA match

The air inside Ahmedabad's BJ Medical College auditorium is heavy with strained silence. Families of the victims of Air India plane crash that took 241 of the 242 lives on board, sit quietly. They wait for their turn to give their blood samples.

These will be matched with DNA collected from the burnt remains recovered from the hostel building into which the plane crashed.

Since Friday morning, grief clouds the space like a thick fog. Tearful eyes meet each other, offering silent support. Strangers, bound by tragedy, hold hands and weep.

Among them is 80-year-old Suvarna Soni. She had come to give her blood sample. Now she waits. In the crash, she lost her son Swapnil Soni (45), his wife Yoga Soni (44), and her elder son’s wife, Alpa Soni (55).

The trio had been heading to London to welcome Alpa’s husband -- and Suvarna’s elder son --Nishith Soni, who had just completed an awe-inspiring road journey from India to London, crossing 22 countries. What was meant to be a joyful family reunion has become a cruel twist of fate.

Suvarna’s daughter, Trupti Soni, sat beside her, holding back tears. “We have lost everything,” she said quietly. “Swapnil was supposed to fly on June 9, and Alpa on June 13. Then they decided to go together on June 12.”

It was a decision made in passing. But in hindsight, it changed everything.

Now, Suvarna — a pichhwai artist who once painted stories with devotion and love — is left with just the two sons of Swapnil and Yoga.

“We are waiting,” Trupti said, her voice trembling. “Waiting for the DNA results. So, we can bring them home… and say goodbye.”

Amid the sterile corridors of BJ Medical College, where silence hung heavier than words, one voice rose — trembling and desperate. Falguni, a young woman shattered by loss of her father had come to give her DNA sample so that she could collect her father’s body, who was killed in the plane crash.

“If the Tata Group can bring back my father, I will pay them ₹2 crore. They announced ₹1 crore compensation, but no money can bring him back. My mother is sick. She needs him. I need him. His love. His affection. Please, just give me my father back.”

Falguni’s heartbreak mirrored the pain etched across the faces of those gathered at the BJ Medical college — waiting to give their blood, to find out if the unrecognisable remains matched their beloved ones. Some sat with vacant eyes, others wept inconsolably.

“Relatives from across the state and even abroad have come. Our teams are working round the clock,” said an official. The identification may begin by June 14, but for the grieving, every hour feels like eternity.

Outside the postmortem room at Civil Hospital, Anil Patel stands still, eyes fixed on the door. His face bears the weight of a man who has lost too much too quickly — and yet, clings to the cruelest kind of hope. “Harshit and Pooja may come out any moment,” he whispers, his voice hollow, suspended between disbelief and unbearable grief.

Two years ago, Anil lost his wife to illness. Now, fate has robbed him of his only son, Harshit (33), and daughter-in-law Pooja (28), in the Air India crash that turned dreams into ashes.

“I am speechless from the loss,” he says, barely able to speak through the lump in his throat. “I just want to wait here. Maybe they’ll come out. Maybe this is all a mistake,” says Anil, who refused to leave the hospital campus after giving his blood sample for DNA testing.

Harshit, a young man who had carved a career for himself at Amazon in London, had come home with his wife on June 2 — a surprise visit that lit up Anil’s quiet home. Pooja had just completed her master’s degree abroad, and though the trip was prompted by her need for medical care after a miscarriage, their arrival had felt like a blessing.

The tragedy doesn’t end with loss. Anil’s friend and colleague, Rajesh Vaghela, disclosed a deeper wound — the financial burden the father bore to help his son fly. Anil had borrowed ₹50 lakh from private lenders to fund Harshit’s overseas education. Every EMI, every sleepless night, every sacrificed comfort — all of it was for a future that no longer exists. “I didn’t just lose my children. I lost the meaning of everything I built,” Anil had said.

For 24-year-old Pinal Mistry, a simple change of schedule sealed her fate. Pinal wasn’t meant to be on the doomed Air India flight AI 171. She had originally booked a seat on the June 7 departure. But a delay in paperwork from her company pushed her journey to June 12.

Her father, Suresh Mistry, struggles to comprehend the chain of events as he awaited results of the DNA matching at the BJ Medical College in Ahmedabad.

“She had already suffered enough,” he said with heavy voice. “Last year, she met with a car accident during a pilgrimage to Ujjain. She lost her teeth and came to Ahmedabad for treatment. She just wanted to complete her dental implants and go back.”

Pinal had moved to England a year ago after finishing her hotel management studies. There, she was building a new life — managing a small online business.

Her family had recently returned from trip to England. “We had gone for my son’s convocation. Spent 2-3 months with both our children. Pinal was supposed to come back to India with us, but her dentist wasn’t available then. So, she stayed back.”

On the day of the flight, Suresh and his family came to Ahmedabad to see her off — like any loving family would. “We were on our way back home when the message came,” Suresh said. “We turned around and rushed back. Now we’re here, waiting for DNA confirmation.”

The wait is 72 hours. “I keep thinking,” he murmurs, “If that letter hadn’t come. If the dentist had been in town. If her original flight hadn’t changed… maybe, just maybe, she would still be here.”