Anatomy of Aviation Anxiety: Air India’s Aircraft 171 Aftermath
We often speak of flight as freedom. But what happens when that freedom turns into fear? The sky was never meant to foster fall. But when it strikes, it resonates through those who live on and those who weren’t offered the chance to.
On the morning of June 12, 2025, Air India’s Flight 171 took off from Ahmedabad, bound for London. For the overwhelming majority of passengers and crew members, it was just another long-haul flight. Perhaps a text to a loved one was the last gesture.
Someone had just reclined their seat, preparing to sleep through the sky. But soon dreams gave way to disaster. Just seconds after takeoff, the Boeing 787-8 plunged into the student hostel at B.J. Medical College. Fire tore through metal and concrete. The sound of sirens replaced the soft chimes of cabin announcements. Screams filled the air where calm had once rested.
241 of the 242 onboard died. Nineteen more lives were lost on the ground. Only one man survived."I don't know how I'm still breathing," he whispered from his hospital bed, eyes unseeing, as though still mid-flight. "I watched people die in front of my eyes. My brother was just across the aisle. I couldn't save him."
Flight records were recovered. But there was no black box that captured the totality of the loss- not only the loss of lives, but also the loss of our felt sense of safety, certainty and the silent trust that passengers essentially hold when they board an aircraft.
Flying is not just about physics and engineering. It is more about surrender. When a person enters an aircraft, they hand over control. They trust metal wings to carry them safely across clouds and time zones. When that promise shatters, it takes something from everyone. The fear doesn’t always scream. It sits with the survivor who cannot close his eyes without seeing flames. It lingers with the families who never got to bid a goodbye. It haunts the students who watched their hostel walls collapse under falling steel.
It is this uncertainty that gives rise to aviation anxiety. Grief rarely waits for certainty. It lives in the spaces between facts, in the hush after funerals and in the calls that never connect again. The only one who walked out, lives with questions no report can solve. “I survived. But the part of me that boarded that flight… didn’t.”
Anxiety isn’t just about future flights, it’s about unfinished pasts. About a destination that was expected, but never arrived. It sits with those who now board planes with trembling hands. With those who hear “flight safety” and feel their chest tighten. The sky is supposed to be endless and peaceful. But after Flight 171, for many, the sky has become a place of memory. A place where time stopped and silence screamed. It didn’t just break an airplane,” said one of the therapists at the Ahmedabad relief denture. “It broke the construct of safety that we feel when the ground is out of sight.” Recovering from this level of trauma takes more than time, it needs safe places to share the sadness, permission to say what you are afraid of without the fear of judgment and support systems that take time to listen beyond “Are you okay?” which often zeros in the silences that follow.
The way forward cannot be forgetfulness; it must be accountability and care. Because the sky does not just carry machines,it carries people- their fears, hopes and lives.
Written By : Ms. Yatika Seghal
Psychology Honors, Delhi University
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