Student who survived Air India crash 'fireball' to sit exam without use of fingers

Junior doctors and relatives are struggling to deal with pain from burn injuries and recurring nightmares of a "fireball" that erupted when an Air India plane crashed into their hostel building in western India.

Yet, in a hospital bed, her hands and feet covered in bandages, Dr Shravani Varpe is preparing painstakingly for an exam next week.

The 21 year old requires medication for second-degree burns and cannot move her fingers, but plans to complete the exam paper with the help of a writer.

“I’m really struggling but I must hold myself together,” the physiotherapy student told The National. “This is my last exam, something that I have been preparing for. I can’t bend my fingers to hold a pen so I can’t write but I have to somehow do this paper.”

The BJ Medical College campus in Ahmedabad city reopened on Monday, 11 days after the crash killed 270 people including 241 on board the Boeing 787-800.

Only one passenger survived the crash, on June 12, while hundreds on the ground were injured when the plane smashed into the hostel canteen. The wreckage and tail of the plane has since been cleared and the area cordoned off for investigation.

‘We started suffocating’

The psychological scars Dr Varpe bears are far deeper than the wounds on her face, neck and back. Even small sounds of doors slamming take her back to the terrifying day Flight 171 ploughed into the fourth floor of the college.

“The trauma we have faced, we will never forget it, it’s there for life,” she said. “We are doctors and have studied this – we know the burn scars will be lifelong.

“My friends who are badly injured suffer from so much aggravating pain, especially when their wounds are dressed. They say they did not die but they are not properly alive.”

The terror she relives stems from the fear of being trapped in the burning building. “At first we just heard the noise, then we saw the burning fireball burst through the big window. It was like a cinematic view but in real life that is very dangerous to see,” she said.

“We ran outside but it was all black because the smoke had already filled the building. Within minutes we started suffocating. We were not able to speak as we had inhaled the gas. We could not go down because there was an extreme amount of heat that we could not bear.”

The young doctors eventually reached a balcony, found blankets that they dipped in water and managed to climb out of the building.

Dreams not ended

Dr Shamsheer Vayalil, a UAE businessman and philanthropist, has pledged Dh2.5 million ($680,000/six crore rupees) to families who lost loved ones and to injured doctors, while Air India owner the Tata Group had announced one crore rupees ($133,600) to the family of each person who died.

Dr Vayalil said his gesture was to honour the memory of four doctors, Manav Bhadu, Aaryan Rajput, Rakesh Diyora, and Jaiprakash Choudhary, from the hostel who died when the plane hit.

The financial aid to the injured, meanwhile, was to let them know “their dreams have not ended and they are not alone”.

Applauding the doctors for their courage, Dr Vayalil said: “Their resilience speaks louder than words. Support and encouragement will be there as they heal, not just physically but emotionally, too.”

The tragedy was deeply personal for the Abu Dhabi-based doctor who spent years living in hostels in southern India as a medical student.

“The images from the damaged hostel and mess hall brought all that flooding back,” said the founder of VPS Health and Burjeel Holdings. "It was difficult to watch. I saw myself in those students. That’s what made this tragedy feel so personal.”

Dr Vayalil said he understood the pain of the devastated families. “It is deeply painful to know that the first ones in their families to enter medical college lost their lives,” he said.

“They carried not just their own dreams but the hopes of entire communities. Their stories must not be forgotten. The hope is that their families feel surrounded by support and that their children’s memory is held close, not only by them but by all of us.”

First-generation in college

His words are a light in the darkness for the family of Rakesh Diyora, 20, who grew up in a small farming village, dreamt of being a paediatric cardiologist and was the first in his family to go to college.

The second-year medical student died when a section of the smouldering plane fell on him as he was eating in the canteen.

“In our entire village, Rakesh would have been the first doctor,” said Vipul Diyora, his elder brother.

“He was our future. My brother was so intelligent, he helped people always. What we earned from the farm we put into his education, we took out loans. But the main trauma is that he is no more. Everyone is hurting.”

The family of Dr Pratham Kolcha, 20, is worried about burn injuries to his face, legs and hands. The second-year medical student also grew up in a small village dependent on agriculture.

“When he saw the burns, he cried a lot,” said Jagdish Kolcha, his father. “I tell him, we have to face this and that God gives us challenges to make us strong.”

Dr Kapil Kachhadiya’s wife and eight-month-old son suffered first and second-degree burns to their face and limbs. The urologist was working and his family was in his hostel room when the accident occurred.

“It is a lot for a small baby to undergo but we have no option but to go through all the steps. They will need long-term care, skin grafting, laser treatment and plastic surgery that will take years.”