Free fall: The turbulent state of Indian aviation
It started with a scream. 30,000 feet above the Arabian Sea, a cabin on an international flight plunged into chaos. Flight AI-129 was barely halfway to New York when the crew declared an emergency. The oxygen masks dropped—but not all of them. A child’s mask didn’t deploy. Her mother began to cry, banging the overhead panel. A man fainted across the aisle. A pressure leak. The plane turned mid-air, descending fast. Some passengers clutched hands with strangers. When the Dreamliner finally landed back in Mumbai, there were no injuries—at least not physically. But the trauma lingered long after the wheels touched the tarmac. And it wasn’t just the passengers asking: How did we let it get this bad?
Four days later, at Mumbai airport, another near-miss. A flight bound for Hyderabad was moments from takeoff when a technician sprinted across the tarmac, waving his arms. The plane had been cleared for departure but with dangerously worn tyres. Maintenance records said they’d been replaced. They hadn’t. The pilot taxied back. Passengers were shuffled to another gate. No official statement was made.
But that same evening, an internal Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) audit landed on the desks of senior aviation officials. Its findings were blistering: “Defects are repeatedly reappearing. Runway markings are faded. Airport equipment is operating without safety checks. Maintenance procedures are either ignored or forged.”
Delhi, Mumbai, Hyderabad—the rot wasn’t local. It was national.
Sonal R, a cabin crew member with over a decade of flying behind her, remembers when Indian aviation felt “competent”. “We used to run drills every quarter. Now it’s once a year, if at all,” she says. “They’ve slashed crew. We’re stretched thin. Sometimes we board without enough oxygen cylinders—we just pray there’s no emergency.” She recalls a flight to Leh earlier this year. Visibility was near zero. The pilot wasn’t CAT III-trained—a requirement for low-visibility landings. “We circled for 40 minutes, and eventually turned back. Passengers were furious. We just told them it was weather—not that the captain wasn’t qualified to land,” she says.
That same week, over 50 flights were diverted out of Delhi because some airlines hadn’t rostered CAT III-certified pilots during winter fog-a violation of protocol. The DGCA sent notices. Airlines shrugged.
Reddit is where Indian flyers vent. And lately, the stories are disturbing.
“Flight delayed by 115 minutes. Not 120. You know why? Because that’s the limit after which the DGCA mandates compensation.”
“SpiceJet lied about a delay, then cancelled the flight. No one picked up the helpline.”
At any given time, over 130 aircraft in India are grounded—not by weather, but by defective Pratt & Whitney engines. IndiGo has over 60 planes sitting idle. Airlines are scrambling to lease old jets, often in questionable condition, just to keep schedules running. A maintenance engineer, speaking anonymously, says the pressure is relentless. “We’re told to sign off defects that haven’t been fixed. If we protest, we’re transferred. Or worse—benched.” He shows a photo of a cracked engine mount on his phone. The repair was logged as “completed”. The plane flew the next morning.
So here we are: a nation of 1.4 billion, third-largest aviation market in the world, but is flying on a wing and a prayer. The only thing keeping the system airborne is a mix of luck, denial, and jugaad. It’s no longer a matter of if something goes wrong. It’s a question of when—and how many people will be on board when it does. Until then, Indian passengers will continue to line up, board, buckle in, and hope that the oxygen masks drop when they’re supposed to, that the tyres are new, that the pilot is trained, and that someone, somewhere, is actually watching.
Because in the skies above India, turbulence is no longer the exception. It’s the rule.
Bursting at the Seams
Advocate Yeshwanth Shenoy has filed PILs—is on X (formerly Twitter) under Awake India—sounding alarms years ago. In 2020, he had warned, “If the judiciary does not change, what will bring about the change in Indian aviation? Nothing, not one airport is safe. So Calicut and Mangaluru (where planes crashed earlier) will repeat itself, but I put my bet on Mumbai. When it happens in Mumbai, it will not be an accident, it will be a catastrophe.”
The Ministry of Civil Aviation (MOCA) and DGCA sprung into firefighting mode after the AI 171 crash in June, as speculations went wild—mechanical-technical failure, software malfunction, fuel loss, no flaps, RAT deployed, even sabotage. DGCA ordered 360-degree safety audits of the aviation sector—surprise checks at airports, airlines, ground staff, air traffic control, maintenance, repair and overhaul units, aircraft maintenance engineers not focused on snags, thrust reverser systems unserviceable, flap slat levers not locked, tyres worn out, training systems out of date, and more. It gave a deadline of seven days. Three AI officials were sacked, a show cause notice was sent to Air India CEO Campbell Wilson. Only a part of the investigation report has been released.
However, according to the aviation fraternity, these issues have been evident for years. Aviation is also slowly being privatised, which makes it complex, and profits remain the focus. Multiple authorities are controlling airports, aviation and security—but there exists a lackadaisical attitude compromising human life and security.
To match the market’s breakneck pace, India has aggressively expanded: 30 international airports, 10 customs airports, 139 domestic airports, and 21 greenfield airport sanctions. Massive aircraft orders—300 (and counting)—are outpacing capacity of infrastructure, trained professionals, etc. So how do we fix a system deemed flailing by insiders? Can India afford such unchecked growth without foundational reforms and a zero-tolerance policy on corruption and safety protocols?
Captain Amit Singh, founder, NGO Safety Matters, former airline safety head, emphasises, “Make reasonable profits such that you pay back or put back into the system to improve it rather than only maximising. The regulator can’t make decisions as it’s an arm of the ministry. There is no technocrat. So much is wrong. We need independent audits.”
In FY 2023-24, the industry recorded over 150 million domestic passengers, and 66 million international passengers, post-COVID. This figure will double by 2030, according to the International Air Transport Association (IATA). Passenger traffic grew 5.4 per cent domestically, 11.4 per cent internationally during 2024 with India’s International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) ratings going from 102nd to 48th place.
While there are various reforms to pivot—from legacy operations to a future ready, tech-integrated and safety-focused ecosystem—this mammoth task requires immense unwavering political will.
Approximately 174 million passengers travelled from and within India by air in 2025, accounting for around 4.2 per cent of the global trot. Currently, the Indian fleet consists of more than 860 aircraft and accounts for around 2.4 per cent of the total global fleet. The aviation sector contributes about 2.4 per cent to India’s GDP, generating around 4,00,000 direct jobs, millions indirectly. India’s ability to sustain such growth without an autonomous statutory aviation regulator entrenched with specialists, and independent investigations, training, maintenance, policies, reforms in tandem with international norms is questionable.
“Exponential growth is a double edged sword, and is becoming a game of numbers in a specialised industry like aviation,” says Captain Singh. According to Captain Sam Thomas, former Jet Airways trainer and president, Airline Pilots’ Association of India, India needs an independent statutory aviation regulator to operate free from ministerial/government control apart. “We need something similar to the FAA in the US, EASA in Europe and CAA in the UK. The body should comprise aviators and subject matter experts—not just IAS officers like those heading the DGCA,” he says. While India has adopted FAA protocols in letter, compliance is alarmingly lax. “Regulators like CAA and EASA enjoy a degree of independence. But DGCA is under the Ministry of Civil Aviation, can’t make decisions by itself,” Captain Singh adds.
Potholed Runway
Media reports have also highlighted how most global aviation and safety conferences rarely see representatives from the Indian regulator due to a lack of subject matter expertise. The ICAO’s 2023 Universal Safety Oversight Audit Programme had flagged India’s shortcomings in personnel licensing, accident investigation transparency, and airworthiness—giving the country an Effective Implementation score of just 58.2 per cent, below the global average of 70 per cent. A key observation was the DGCA’s failure to update its technical guidance material in line with the ICAO amendments, and the lack of an independent accident investigation body.
“Make the Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB) fully independent with mandated public final reports within 12 months,” says Captain Augustine Joseph, President-CEO, Lancair, a US-based aviation executive and Indian Air Force veteran, also an FAA-certified MRO (Maintenance, Repair, and Overhaul) provider.
A Parliamentary Standing Committee report highlights severe capacity gaps, with over 10,000 posts remaining vacant across the DGCA, Bureau of Civil Aviation Security (BCAS) and Airports Authority of India (AAI). The number of vacancies at the DGCA has doubled since 2021. Even with the exponential growth, capital has been cut. Between 2021 and 2025, the DGCA’s sanctioned strength rose from 1,233 to 1,692. Yet, only 878 positions have been filled as of March 2025, leaving over 800 vacancies unfilled. India’s aviation watchdog is flying blind. A former DGCA official puts it bluntly: “This is a plane with no pilot. No crew. And we’re praying it doesn’t crash.”
Moreover, airline after airline has folded, leaving behind a trail of debt, grounded fleets, and unpaid salaries. So why does the Indian skies resemble a corporate graveyard more than a thriving marketplace? Toronto-based aviation expert Prabhjot Paul Singh pulls no punches: “Jet Airways? Sunk by financial mismanagement. Kingfisher? Drowned in luxury and chaos. Air India, Indian Airlines, Vayudoot? Corruption hubs turned political dumping grounds—bloated with bureaucracy, bleeding money, and flying blind.” High fuel costs are just the tip of the iceberg. Prabhjot Singh points to the industry’s blind obsession with leased aircraft—especially dry leases—as a death sentence for underprepared airlines. “They are way too expensive unless you know exactly what you’re doing. Most of the airlines that packed up didn’t have the manpower or engineering muscle to keep planes airworthy, let alone profitable,” he says.
Government policies haven’t helped either. Smaller operators are ignored. Training pipelines are broken. There’s no steady stream of qualified pilots, cabin crew, or maintenance staff—all in a sector where tech evolves by the minute. So what’s the fix? Prabhjot Singh pushes for smart wet leases—where aircraft, crew, and maintenance come bundled—and strategic tie-ups with foreign carriers. An IATA economic report states: “The high demand for air travel and the expected significant fleet expansion needs approximately 37,000 pilots and 38,000 maintenance technicians during the next two decades.” A critical pilot shortage, a deficit of 15 per cent trained pilots is the other big problem plaguing the sector.
No Fair Play
India’s aviation industry is dominated by two key players—IndiGo and Air India. While these two giants have played an essential role in connecting India’s diverse regions and expanding its international footprint, their near-monopolistic control over the market raises concerns that cannot be overlooked.
IndiGo’s meteoric rise is nothing short of extraordinary. Founded in 2006, it quickly became the largest domestic carrier in India and is now the dominant force in Indian aviation, with a market share of over 55 per cent. However, with great power comes the potential for great stagnation. IndiGo’s overwhelming presence raises concerns about the lack of competitive pressure in the market. In a truly competitive aviation ecosystem, airlines continuously innovate to attract passengers—whether through improved services, more affordable pricing, or new routes. IndiGo’s market share, however, has meant that the industry is increasingly looking at its pricing strategies, fleet management, and service standards as the de facto norm. At the same time, Air India remains the flag-bearer of the nation on international routes. Originally a private entity, which turned state-owned for a while before going back in private hands, Air India’s fortunes ebbed and flowed over the years, with inefficiency, corruption, and poor management often seen as its Achilles’ heel. Despite its resurgent international network, the airline still lags behind in terms of domestic market share, where IndiGo reigns supreme.
With the two players controlling the lion’s share of the market, competition has started to wane, and the industry risks becoming an oligopoly, a scenario where a few dominant players dictate the terms of service and pricing. This market structure not only limits consumer choice but also raises the likelihood of price fixing or collusion—particularly during times of high demand, such as peak travel seasons or when fuel prices spike. Moreover, regional connectivity is being compromised. Smaller carriers that once offered flights to Tier 2 and Tier 3 cities are gradually being squeezed out. Regional routes, often less profitable but crucial for ensuring connectivity to remote areas, are increasingly being monopolised. As the potential for inclusivity within the aviation market shrinks, millions of passengers are left with fewer options and potentially higher fares. The challenge lies in fostering an environment where both major players and emerging carriers can coexist and thrive.
Failure to Launch
IIT Chennai has an aerospace division but no resources to focus on building aircraft equipment. For a leader in aviation, the growth of all stakeholders is key to enriching an industry. Captain Singh says, “Our foundation is weak, each time pressure is applied, the system collapses. Fog, rain, accident, the system collapses. We cannot sustain a pressure test.” For training too, India sends its pilots to America and France, which results in limited exposure training at exorbitant costs. “There is a lot of dependence on others; India still has a long way to go,” explains M Vasudevan, former airport director with AAI at Coimbatore and Mangaluru.
Joseph trains 1,000 pilots in the US per year, of which 100 or more are Indians. “The testing and licensing process in India is corrupt; touts take money, and sign off log books,” he says. He cites the case of a woman pilot, who a few years back landed the aircraft on its nose wheel in Goa. The case is still under investigation—the pilot had allegedly produced a fake certificate to obtain her Airlines Transport Pilot Licence (ATPL). “Training has to start from the grassroots—with aviation experts, skilled technicians—not the DGCA setting the syllabi,” explains Thomas. Joseph urges India to create an advisory board of global aviators to revamp aviation from the ground up. He cites Lufthansa’s rigorous training model—24 exams before cockpit time—as a benchmark. “Safety is baked into their systems,” he says, adding, “The bureaucratic quagmire in India is why aviation experts are not keen to set up maintenance, safety and training units in the country.” In India’s high-growth, low-margin aviation sector, pilots are flying under what Captain Sam Thomas calls the ‘3Fs’—fines, fatigue, and fear. Vasudevan was on the inquiry board for the Mangaluru crash where 158 people lost their lives. The report found that the pilot was sleep-deprived.
However, since India’s airlines run on razor-thin margins, the pressure inevitably shifts to pilots—many are overworked, stressed, and operating in hostile environments. Post-Covid, the situation has become worse. Flight Duty Time Limitations (FDTL) regulations dictate rest periods and duty times—pilots are supposed to clock eight hours, with total duty time of not more than 10 hours. But loopholes also allow extended duty periods (up to 13-14 hours) due to delays or multi-leg scheduling, insufficient rest between duties, no limit on number of sectors per day for short-haul domestic pilots (five-six take-offs a day). Pilot FDTL Rules are designed in favour of corporate airlines so that they can make more money at the expense of pilots. Under the present rules, a commercial pilot is not supposed to travel more than 35 hours a week. But revenue crazy airlines are expanding operations by flouting FDTL regulations with impunity. Low cost airlines like Air India Express and Indigo have quick and multiple turnarounds, which increases flying hours, and fatigue.
NASA’s Fatigue Risk Management System (FRMS) is scientifically grounded and cites the use of biometric fatigue tracking, wearable fatigue monitors, and sleep data logs. Captain Arman Singh Chaudhary, an Air India Express pilot, died of a cardiac arrest shortly after landing a flight recently. In August 2023, an IndiGo pilot, Manoj Balasubramanian, fell unconscious while on duty at Nagpur airport, and passed away. Prabhjot Singh argues, “Why are pilots dying? If a pilot is insisting that he is not well, and he is forced to fly Srinagar to Delhi, and he dies reaching Delhi, then it’s the system that is defunct.”
The Way Forward
Reforms to the Civil Aviation Act finally took flight with the Bhartiya Vayuyan Vidheyak, 2024 (BVV), replacing the British-era Aircraft Act 1934. It promises to address aircraft design, manufacture and maintenance, remove inconsistencies and redundancies. However, actual legislation, Captain Singh says, is needed to govern civil aviation—establish framework for regulating and overseeing, including safety, security, and economic aspects. “The prime minister made a change by laterally inducting specialists in the joint secretary cadre—a welcome move to create subject matter specialists,” says Thomas. However, a paradigm shift is needed. “In developed countries the investigations and day to day running of civil aviation is with a premise that all are human beings and a certain degree of error will occur. Pilots should be counselled, given corrective training in an atmosphere where errors are minimised. This is not what happens in India. Take, for instance, the incident in an Air India flight last year where a drunk passenger allegedly peed on a woman passenger; the pilot ended up being suspended. Why?” he asks, stressing that an atmosphere for trust, integrity and freedom to speak up can go a long way to address the burdened pilots in a system which exacts its piece of flesh.
India’s airport infrastructure is straining with major hubs like Delhi and Mumbai nearing saturation, and regional airports without night landing or modern specs. To address this, the government’s UDAN (Ude Desh ka Aam Nagrik) scheme has opened more aerodromes to accommodate the passenger overload, however, many routes are deemed financially unviable, lack supporting infrastructure. But experts advise caution. “We must pause expansion and first ensure training, safety, and oversight meet global norms,” stresses Captain Singh. There is growing concern of increase of control of the private sector, in operation, management and development of airports, and now on security and safety too. Some big players already have their own security teams in operational mode. The role of the state agencies has been marginalised.
ATF (Aviation Turbine Fuel) makes up nearly 40 per cent or more of operational costs, and its pricing in India is among the highest due to heavy taxation. Despite marginal government relief in VAT, the pricing disparity across states hampers profitability. This has created unsustainable price wars and thinner margins. The average yield per seat remains among the lowest in the world, placing smaller carriers at risk of bankruptcy, like what happened to Spice Jet, Go Air, etc. Mergers, insolvency, and price wars have created monopolies which reduces competition, impacts fare structures, and service innovation.
“Despite all this, Indians continue to fly—that blind faith is remarkable. But the system must match that trust,” says Captain Singh.