KOZHIKODE: The rain had just begun to fall lightly that morning in May 2010 as Flight IX-812 descended towards Mangalore airport. For the 166 people on board, home was just minutes away. But within seconds, that hopeful descent turned into catastrophe -- a misjudged landing, a fuselage torn apart, fire, screams, and chaos.
Fifteen years have passed. For some, time has dulled the pain; for others, memories are etched as deep as the burning metal of that ill-fated aircraft. Survivors of the Mangaluru and Kozhikode air crashes carry not just scars on their bodies but grief in their hearts. These are not just disaster statistics. These are men and women who lived to tell stories of survival, pain and betrayal.
A morning that changed everything
On May 22, 2010, Air India Express Flight IX-812 from Dubai overshot the tabletop runway at Mangalore airport. It crashed into a valley and burst into flames. 158 people perished. Only eight survived.
Uduma native Krishnan Koolikunnu, was one of them. Now 62, he runs a small grocery shop in his village in Kasaragod. “At that moment, I thought it was the end. I saw my children’s faces flash before me,” he says. “I felt something was off just before landing. The plane was too fast. Then came the screech, a sound like metal scraping over rocks. It all went dark.” He remembers a small crack in the plane’s body, his gateway to life. “I pulled off the seatbelt and crawled through that gap. Outside, it was forest and fog. I ran and I didn’t even know what I was running from.”
Krishnan was joined in survival by K P Mayankutty, another survivor and a native of Kannur district. His seat, 22F, is etched in his memory. “All survivors were seated on the same side. I saw the fireball coming. I heard children screaming for their parents,” Mayankutty said during a conversation with TNIE. “That sound still wakes me up.”
The aftermath was even more harrowing. Wenlock Hospital in Mangaluru became a scene of heartbreaking reunions and unimaginable grief. “There were 19 children and four infants on that flight,” said a former nurse at the hospital. “Some bodies were beyond recognition. Families were asked to identify loved ones by jewellery or tattoos.”
The crash not only tore families apart but plunged survivors into financial ruin and legal limbo. Mayankutty, who had worked as a PR officer for Emirates Shipping, lost his job after the accident and now works at half his previous salary in a real estate company in Umm al-Quwain.
“We were promised jobs, compensation, counselling. We received nothing but hollow assurances.”
Yet another tragedy: Kozhikode 2020
A decade later, on August 7, 2020, tragedy struck again. An Air India Express flight skidded off the rain-slick tabletop runway at Kozhikode’s Karipur airport, killing 21 people. Shahala Shajahan, a survivor now residing in Dubai with her husband, recounts the events. “ It felt like the sky was collapsing. Everyone was screaming. I couldn’t move. I was pinned under the seats,” Shahala now residing in Dubai with her husband recounted. “But the local people didn’t wait. They rushed in, pulled us out of burning metal. They were our angels.”
Despite the quicker emergency response at Karipur, survivors speak of the trauma that lingers. Some suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), others avoid travel altogether. None have received sustained psychological support. “I was supposed to give my wife a gold necklace for our 25th anniversary. I lost that in the fire,” Mayankutty shares. “But I gave her myself. I survived.
That was my gift.” Yet, survival came at a cost. “Survivors were paraded, promised help by politicians, but nothing changed. Many of us lost jobs, families fell apart. There’s no system to support those who survive air tragedies. It was supposed to be a celebration, a return home. But it turned into a lifelong nightmare.” “We are alive,” says Krishnan, “but every day since then has been a fight to truly live again.”