The Deadmen Show: Air India’s Tragedy of Modern Aviation, Air India Report.

Air India, once the flying Maharaja that Indians held close to their hearts—an emotion, not just an airline—now finds itself lost in a cloud of questions, controversies, and chaos in 2025. After its much-publicised privatisation in January 2022, the beloved airline got a new lease of life under Tata’s ambitious wings. The plans looked nothing short of cinematic: a glorious comeback tale filled with mergers, sky-high aircraft orders, swanky A350 cabins, plush lounges in Bengaluru and Delhi, in-flight Wi-Fi, and even the much-awaited first-class experience. The man steering this comeback, CEO Campbell Wilson, spoke big and bold about bringing the carrier back from its knees to its glory days.

But on the ground—and up in the air—the experience is a mixed thali of highs and horrible lows.

Let’s get real: yes, the premium economy on the A321neo might have you saying “wah bhai wah,” but then again, if your loo is leaking mid-air or your window’s greasier than a samosa stand at Chandni Chowk, how long will the shiny seats impress? Recently, even a Union Minister faced embarrassment after his seat gave up on him. Reddit’s full of tales now—pictures of broken trays, dirty floors, clogged toilets—almost like AI (Air India, not artificial intelligence) has become the punchline to its own tragedy. One user even joked it deserved an Oscar... not for excellence, but for “Worst Airline Experience Ever.”

Meanwhile, rivals like Emirates, Indigo, even Vistara (before it merged), are cruising with steady confidence. Their flights are reliable, clean, and respectful of passengers’ expectations—something that, sadly, Air India seems to struggle with.

To be fair, Tata didn’t just sit back. The airline has 570 planes on order, with $400 million earmarked to retrofit the older jets. But—bada problem yeh hai—global supply chains are acting up. Parts aren’t arriving. Fuselages are delayed. Engine deliveries are crawling. And that means those old, creaky jets that should’ve been sent to retirement homes are still out there in the skies, serving chai and chaos.

But nothing prepared India for what happened on June 12, 2025.

Flight AI-171. A Boeing 787 Dreamliner, destined for Delhi, took off from Ahmedabad. Barely in the air, disaster struck. Both engines stopped getting fuel—poof, power gone. Inside the cockpit, panic echoed. The audio revealed one pilot asking, “Why was fuel cut?”, the other replying with confusion, “I didn’t touch it.” No birds, no bombs, no Boeing fault. Just a mystery: someone—either unknowingly or via system error—flipped the fuel cutoff switches.

It wasn’t just an accident. It became India’s deadliest aviation disaster in a decade. 260 lives gone—241 onboard, 19 innocents on the ground. Homes shattered. Dreams extinguished.

One British survivor, covered in blood and grief, described the final moments as “pure horror.” Screams. Panic. Seatbelts yanked. Children crying. And then, darkness.

Agencies from America—the FAA, NTSB—alongside Boeing and GE, are now deep in investigation mode. The AAIB’s preliminary report suggests human or systemic failure, and a full report could take a year. Meanwhile, Parliament’s now grilling aviation bosses. Why did this happen? Why are fares so high if safety is this low? One MP from South India bluntly asked, “Are we flying or gambling with our lives?”

The Civil Aviation Minister Kinjarapu told everyone to calm down and wait, calling the report “just a trailer.” But for families of the deceased, that’s not enough. They want action. They want justice. They want answers, not apologies.

This incident has struck a deep wound in Tata’s grand aviation dream. The Financial Times recently wrote that the crash might derail the Tata transformation train altogether. If it turns out the fault lies in training, or oversight, or outdated systems—then public trust won’t just crash, it’ll burn.

But not all is gloom. Some rays of hope peek through.

Air India has now got DGCA’s Design Organisation Approval (DOA)—a rare feather in the cap. This means they can handle in-house design changes and retrofits, which might fast-track quality improvements. Wilson claims losses have dropped from ₹11,387 crore to ₹4,444 crore in just one year. Revenue’s up 24% too. And routes are being optimised—fewer unnecessary domestic overlaps, shorter metro layovers.

But there’s still a long way to go before we can say “India now owns a world-class airline.”

The rupee’s doing acrobatics—weakening constantly—making fuel, leasing, and repairs more expensive. Crew members are walking out. Protests from Air India Express and even Indigo show unrest bubbling below the surface. Integrating four different airline legacies into one smooth operation? Bhai, that’s not easy. It’s like mixing dahi with cola and expecting a smoothie.

Serving 60 million passengers a year with a 300-plane fleet demands more than just upgrades—it needs heart, discipline, training, and a whole lot of soul-searching.

So what should be done?

Air India must now take the harder, boring road.

• ⁠Fix safety protocols, no shortcuts.

• ⁠Ensure clean, working toilets (yes, basic, but apparently too hard).

• ⁠Complete retrofit plans on time.

• ⁠Be honest and open with the public. Communicate. Admit. Improve.

They have the capability. Tata’s vision is strong. The DOA badge proves intent. But what’s missing is culture—the kind of internal DNA that says: “We fly people, not numbers. Let’s give them dignity.”

This is not just a news story. It’s a national wound. The crash of AI-171 isn’t a line item in a balance sheet—it’s a stark, heartbreaking reminder that aviation is built not on planes, but on trust. And that trust is now broken.

Air India stands today on a knife’s edge.

If they learn—really learn—from this crash and genuinely care about every detail, from cockpit training to cabin hygiene, they might just rise again. If not? Then history may say Tata tried—but Air India died not from bad luck, but from the inertia of broken systems, buried truths, and unkept promises.

And honestly, no amount of fresh cabins or high-tech screens will ever be enough to cover the screams that echoed inside Flight AI‑171.