Families cling for hope after the death of India

Imtiyaz ali Sayed refuses to mourn.

Not when the news first broke through – that his younger brother Javid, together with his wife Jaudev and two children, died in the devastating disaster of Air India in Ahmedabad on Thursday.

Even now, more than 10 hours, when the clock gets three in the morning, and he walks along the sterile corridors of the hospital where their bodies lie, refusing to sit, refusing to accept.

Authorities have confirmed that only one of 242 people survived on the flight related to London. DNA testing is now being tested to identify the victims.

Mr. Saed, a businessman based in Mumbai, is one of the dozens of families waiting for the closure after one of India’s worst aviation catastrophes.

He says until he sees his brother’s body – or “anything from him” – his eyes, he will continue to look for him.

“You don’t understand. It was my life – if I refuse now, I will never be able to recover,” he says.

Then he spends on the phone, showing photos of his niece and nephew, including some that were taken a few minutes before they sat on the flight.

Mr. Saed recalls how their older sister aimed to go to London with Jajaja, but could not get a ticket. Then he is silent. Outside, night deepens, the sky darkens slow degrees.

A few minutes later he picks up the phone again – this time to show a number of messages he sent to Java when hearing about the disaster.

“Look,” he says, continuing the screen. “They are still delivered. It must mean something?”

The tragedy unfolded in seconds: Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner flared up into the flames shortly after taking off the Ahmedabad International Airport of Pate, crashed into a medical college in a dense residential neighborhood.

“There was a loud roar, a deafening scream, and then suddenly the fire, iron and steel began to rain from the sky,” said Mukesh, a driver who lives about 15 minutes from the catastrophe.

At least eight people who died on the ground reported a senior health official in Ahmedabad. When the rescuers first arrived, they found fragments of the aircraft destroyed by such force that it was difficult to say that the pieces, except for human remains, reported two members of the disaster.

From the moment of the accident, the unpleasant odor, he scored over the area when the smoke blowing from the fragments late in the evening.

Authorities say they are working to identify the victims, but the scale of destruction has complicated this task.

A volunteer at a civil hospital told the BBC, provided that many bodies are so strongly burned and shortened that physical identification may be impossible.

“It’s like trying to say ashes except ash.”

The waiting for families was excruciating. Many were located outside the hospital – in cars or on the streets – their excruciating shouts that sounded down the corridors.

Samer Shaiha’s wife can’t stop crying. Their son Irfan, a member of the Air India crew, did not call often, but always reported before takeoff and after planting.

Therefore, when the airline called that day, Mr. Shikh was confused. Irfan had to be on the way to London.

“But instead we learned that he died as a result of the crash.”

Sheikh, who lives in Pune, flew to Ahmedabad with his family to gather his son’s body. The Air India official in a civil hospital helped him during the identification process.

“But the police did not allow us to return our son,” he says. “They asked us to return three days later after all the victims were completed.”

Destroyed, the couple is looking for help – and answers.

“What do we do?” he asks, pointing to his wife, sitting on the corner of the street, sobbing. “How can we wait three days when we find out what is our son?”

Sheikhs are not one in his suffering. Just around the city, another tragedy is still unfolding – this is where the plane went down.

The BJ Medical Civil Hospital, one of the most respected Ahmedabad institutions, became zero when the plane crashed into its hostel on Thursday. The loss is reported, but the full fee remains unclear.

The Takur Boward is looking forward to looking for any news about her mother Sarlu, who worked as a chef in the hostel. It was in the back of the building – the very place where the plane hit.

Turning the events of the day, Ms. Takur says her family, who works at the hospital, left for work around 13:00 local time.

“The plan was to give lunch to a doctor and return home. But when my mother saw the students who arrived in the mess, she decided to stay back and make them an rotes (Flatbreads),” she says.

At that moment, the plane crashed into a hostel and broke through the first floor of the building. In the chaotic moments that followed, confusion and grief hung.

“So much black smoke was poured out of the building. People were running out, trying to save their lives. We were looking for our mother in the morning, but we didn’t find her any trace,” she adds.

Her father, pro -Vlad Takur, says she was not alone – “my brother’s daughter was with her,” he says. Both are missing.

They searched the first floor where the kitchen was, but found nothing.

“I went there twice, hoping to find anything – anything. But there was only water and garbage,” he says.

The accident did not only break the building – it destroyed a normal day on the campus.

“There was a loud noise. All the doors and windows in the class began to tremble. Everyone ran outside to check what happened,” said the student who preferred to remain unnamed.

As the news spread and it became more and more clear that many students were injured – perhaps even killed – a panic that throbbing on campus. Some started running, others, too stunned by the fact that they witnessed, froze on the spot, their sobbing.

“The student just stood there with tears in his eyes, not being able to move, and others were so affected that they needed to be transferred to the hospital. Many are now treated hard wounds, several of them are in the intensive care unit,” others added.

By the evening, heavily damaged corridors were silent. The backpacks and half eaten dishes lay abandoned on the tables where the students escaped. The air was still thick with smoke, sirens and weighing what just unfolded.

Additional Kumar Chauda’s Advanced Report in Ahmedabad