Inside a modest two-bedroom apartment in India’s Ahmedabad, Ravina Daniyal Christian clutches the edge of her tear-soaked scarf. The home is crowded with relatives but the only voice that carries through the room is hers – spilling with loss.
Just fifteen days ago, she buried her husband. On 12 June, her 30-year-old son Lawrence Daniyal Christian, who had come home from London to perform the last rites of his father, was killed in the catastrophic Air India crash that has claimed at least 270 lives.
“He came only for a few days,” she says. “He was returning on 12 June. Just a short visit – only to honour his father.”
That final act of love has become a mother’s worst nightmare.
“My husband is gone. And now, so is my son,” Ravina says, wailing. “I have no one left to support me.”
Lawrence had been working in London and slowly building a future that included his mother. “He always said, ‘Mummy, once I’ve paid off the loans on our apartment, I’ll bring you to London,’” she says. “That year will never come.”

Her last memory of him is a short video call from his seat on the doomed flight. “He said, ‘I’ll reach London around 10 or 11pm India time. Then I’ll call you. I’m switching off the phone now.’”
Ravina had dropped him at the airport that morning and returned to an empty home. “I didn’t feel like eating. I just had a paratha (fried Indian flatbread).” Then the phone rang. “It was his friend. He told me to check the news – a plane had crashed.”
Panic-stricken, she rushed to Ahmedabad’s Civil Hospital, searching every ward until late into the night. “But I couldn’t find him… My daughter gave her blood for the DNA test. But no one has told us anything since.”

Just across town, 66-year-old Sarlaben David Christian is also coming to terms with a double tragedy. Her son Rozar and daughter-in-law Rachnaben – both London residents who had returned to India for medical treatment – were among the passengers killed when the Boeing 787 Dreamliner plummeted into a student hostel soon after take-off.
“They had flown in for just a few days,” she says, her voice strained. Her husband had driven them to the airport that morning. After checking in, Rozar called. “‘Everything’s done. You don’t need to wait outside,’ he said. ‘You can go home.’”
The final conversation ended with four words: “I am comfortably seated.” Hours later, the family would learn about the crash that killed all but one of the 242 passengers onboard.
Sarlaben’s nephew William was the first to realise something was wrong. “He saw a news alert, turned to his wife, and asked if Rozar and Rachna had left today. When she confirmed, he called my husband and said, ‘There’s been a crash. It might be their flight.’”

Family members split into two teams – one went to the airport, another to the hospital. “We searched every ward, every stretcher, hoping they were among the injured,” she recalls. “But they weren’t.”
DNA samples were requested later that night.
The bodies of several victims of the plane crash are expected to be released to their families by Sunday evening, following the completion of the DNA sampling process, The Independent has learnt.

According to hospital officials, victims who could not be identified visually had their DNA samples submitted on Thursday.
Their remains are likely to be handed over once the 72-hour verification window concludes. In the meantime, the bodies of victims identified through visible body marks are expected to be released either by Saturday evening or early Sunday morning.
However, not all victims have undergone DNA sampling. For those cases, officials say the identification process may take longer, as DNA analysis typically requires a minimum of 72 hours.
“We found out… no one was alive,” says Sarlaben, hands trembling. “Their bodies were in no condition to be seen. How do I describe the pain of losing a son I raised in my arms?”
Rozar had long planned to settle in the UK. “He wanted to buy a house there and bring us over one day,” she says. “All those dreams have gone with him.”
Among the dead was also an entire family of five – Dr Komi Vyas, her husband Dr Prateek Joshi, and their three young children.
Dr Vyas, a medical professional from Udaipur, had recently resigned from her position at a local hospital to begin a new life in London with her husband, Dr Prateek Joshi.
That fresh start was tragically cut short when the Air India flight they were on crashed shortly after take-off in Ahmedabad.
A selfie taken on board the ill-fated Boeing 787 by Dr Joshi captures what would be their final family moment. In it, he and Dr Vyas are seen smiling in their seats, while their children – five-year-old twin boys, Nakul and Pradyut, and eight-year-old daughter, Miraya – sit across the aisle.
The couple, both doctors, were well known in Udaipur’s medical circles. They previously worked at Pacific Hospital before Dr Joshi moved to the UK several years ago.
He had returned to their hometown of Banswara in Rajasthan earlier this week to accompany his wife and children back to London, where the family was planning to settle permanently.

A close friend and college friend of Dr Vyas, who requests anonymity, shares the devastating news with The Independent. “Komi was part of our 2004 MBBS (Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery) batch – always smiling, full of charm. Even after college, we stayed in touch. She used to visit my clinic in Ahmedabad when she worked as an assistant professor in Rajasthan. The last time I spoke to her was in December – she had reached out about a consultation for her sister.”
He recalls how he found out about the tragedy. “I was in the operation theatre when the crash happened. Around 2pm, I got a call from my wife, who was also Komi’s classmate. She heard from a contact at Civil Hospital that Komi might have been on board the crashed flight. I rushed out of the OT and tried calling Komi, but there was no answer. Soon after, someone on our college WhatsApp group confirmed the devastating news – it was her, her three children, and her husband.”
The family had travelled to India for a vacation and were returning to London to begin a new chapter.
“Komi and Prateek had planned to finally settle there now that their twins were turning five in August and their daughter was already of school-going age,” the friend explained. “With the children a bit older, it would’ve been easier for Komi to manage in a new country. This was supposed to be their big move.”

He also confirms that Dr Vyas’s father had arrived in Ahmedabad and had submitted DNA samples for identification on Thursday.
“He’s been at Civil Hospital since the day before yesterday, trying to complete the formalities. We’ve been told the children’s bodies were found early this morning, and the process is underway.”
As of Saturday evening, the remains of Dr Vyas and her family had not yet been released, pending DNA verification and identification. Some victims’ bodies are expected to be released as DNA identification process nears completion.
Suresh Patni, 47, stands alone outside the hospital mortuary, waiting for the handover of his 12-year-old son’s remains. Akash Patni was charred beyond recognition when a passenger aircraft crashed into the college campus where his family ran a small tea stall.
The boy had accompanied his mother, Sitabehen Patni, to their stall as he often did. Tired, he lay down to rest beneath a tree nearby. Moments later, the plane came crashing down, engulfing the area in flames. Akash, fast asleep, had no chance to escape.
“He was burnt alive while sleeping,” Patni says. “I have not even seen his body yet. It is not in a condition to be seen. It is so burnt that it cannot be identified.”
Patni says he has submitted identification documents to the hospital, including a PAN card in lieu of Aadhaar, to claim his son’s body. “The officials have told me they will hand it over by tonight or tomorrow morning.”
His wife, Sitabehen, remains in the intensive care unit with serious burn injuries. “She doesn’t know he’s gone,” he says. “She’s had more than 40 stitches to her face. The bleeding had to be stopped. I can’t even begin to tell her what’s happened.”
Hospital authorities tells The Independent that most of the bodies recovered from the crash site have been shifted from the post-mortem room to cold storage, awaiting DNA confirmation and family handover.
“I am all by myself here. I don’t know how I can bear to see him like that. How do I ask them to show me my son’s body?” Patni says