The world, it seems, is no longer whispering. It’s murmuring loudly, speculating wildly, and pointing fingers with grim certainty at the cockpit of the doomed Air-India aircraft. “Suicide,” they say. “The Captain was depressed.” And with that, the captain of Flight 171 becomes both accused and judged—without trial, without evidence, and without compassion.
Yes, that very word. Compassion.
I’m no psychiatrist. I don’t have a couch in my living room where people pour out their secrets while I stroke my unruly beard. But what I do carry is a fair dose of common sense—and a little bit of heart.
Here’s what I know.
This was a man who looked after an aged father. A man who had apparently told friends he would soon retire—not to play golf or cruise the Mediterranean, but to spend time with that frail figure waiting back home. Now pause right there. Anyone who’s looked after a parent in their twilight years knows it takes grit, love, and a huge level of compassion that can’t be faked.
You don’t do it because it’s fashionable.
You do it because your heart beats a little differently.
So, before we drag the poor man’s reputation through turbulence worse than the one his aircraft faced, can we consider that a man filled with such compassion could never have decided to end the lives of over 242 innocent souls simply because he was “feeling low”?
“But depression makes people do strange things,” they say. Yes, it does. It clouds judgement, distorts reality, and can lead to the most tragic decisions. But isn’t that exactly why we need to wait? Wait for the black box to speak. Wait for the investigators to piece together fact, not fiction. Wait before our tongues become daggers.
And speaking of facts—here’s another. Airlines and aircraft manufacturers don’t particularly like elephants in the room. Especially when those elephants are inconvenient, large-hearted, and raise questions like, “Was the plane airworthy?” or “Were there pressures from above?” No, it’s far easier to say, “The captain was suicidal.” Slam the file shut, exhale, move on.
But this elephant, dear reader, is a big one. And unlike the proverbial one that no one sees, this one has compassion written across its broad forehead in bold, loving letters.
So, to the social media sleuths, news anchors turned judges, and the ever-ready WhatsApp warriors—pause. Just pause. Think about a man who might’ve saved lives during his entire flying career, who nursed his father each day, and who likely looked at each passenger not as a statistic but as a soul.
Let the reports come. Let the truth land safely.
Until then, let’s not crash his character before we know how the plane crashed.
After all, compassion doesn’t just belong to mandirs, mosques and churches, it could very much be the main evidence from the cockpit…!