AHMEDABAD: Mukti Vansadiya’s life is an irony. For 12 years, the Ankleshwar resident booked airline tickets professionally at a travel agency. After losing her parents, Divya (60) and Arjunsinh (65), she has quit the job and says she will never book a flight or board a plane again.On the afternoon of June 12, Mukti accompanied them to Ahmedabad airport. They were excited about their first journey to the UK to meet their elder daughter settled there for three years. This routine farewell became the last time she saw them.“I touched their feet as they were leaving. Both placed their hands on my head and blessed me. Those blessings have stayed with me but I can never board a flight. I will never go back to the job of booking flights. The prospect of people getting on flights disturbs me,” said Mukti.The fear and shock have reshaped the 30-year-old’s every plan, including her dream of settling in New Zealand. Mukti is dreading the thought of spending the anniversary of the disaster alone.“Relatives of other victims have urged me to join them at the site in Ahmedabad but I cannot muster strength. I have had a very bad year. Dark memories keep flooding my mind. I cannot accept they are gone forever. I hear their voices nudging me to get ready for work, eat on time. I wish I too had boarded that flight with them so we could be together wherever they are now,” says Mukti.She also remains haunted by how close the trip came to unfolding differently. Her parents had planned to fly from Mumbai to Manchester on a different date. “We had the May 25-31 and June 1-10 date ranges to choose from. I don’t know why they chose to take the June 12 flight to Gatwick and reach Manchester by road,” says Mukti.The deep trauma from the tragedy means she underwent counselling for months. She has found a new role that she describes as “one small anchor in a year defined by grief”.Mukti works for Tata Chemicals Ltd, on a CSR initiative focused on helping those in need. Mukti connects this work with her parents’ values.Heer Prajapati of Vadodara lost his mother, Kalpana, in the crash. But the trauma still casts a long shadow over his life. He has been unable to bring himself to board a flight since.He booked a flight to Chandigarh twice but didn’t board it. “I am yet to sit in a plane. I don’t know if I would panic once I am on board. Images of the crash and the huge fireball still haunt me,” Heer told TOI.For Heer, flying is no longer just a mode of travel. “I may fly in the future but I am not sure when,” he added.The crash has also changed Edwin Pateliya’s relationship with air travel forever. The 71-year-old Vadodara resident lost his daughter, Elcina Makwana, in the tragedy. Though his son-in-law lives in the UK, Pateliya has not found the courage to fly there.“The memories of that fateful day would probably haunt me,” he said.Ahmedabad’s David Christian, who lost his son Rozar and daughter-in-law Rachana in the disaster, has, with immense difficulty, managed to get over the trauma of flying.When his other son in Australia invited him to stay with him, uncertainty kept David almost grounded. “I gathered the courage, but to avoid reliving painful memories, I chose not to take an Air India flight,” he said.The last time Vasant Patel flew was when he returned to the UK after performing his bride’s last rites. “I haven’t flown since. I do not know if it’s phobia, but I dread air travel. Every airplane reminds me of the tragedy.” His family in Gujarat will perform Ankita’s ‘varsi’.
