Vishwash Kumar Ramesh in hospital. PHOTO/UGC.
By PATRICK MAYOYO
and Agencies.
In the chaos of flame and twisted metal, amid the deafening silence of loss, one man emerged; stumbling, scorched, and somehow still alive.
His name is Vishwash Kumar Ramesh, and his survival from the Air India disaster is not just an accident. It’s a story of impossible escape, and the burden of being the only one left to tell it.
There are moments in history when survival defies every law of nature and logic, when a single heartbeat rises from silence, and breath returns where none should be.
These stories linger in our collective memory, not just for their rarity, but for the way they stir something deep in us: hope. What happened in seat 11A on that fateful Air India flight is one such moment.
But this story is not in vain. History and legends reminds us about the three men who walked unscathed from a fiery furnace, the miraculous escape of Daniel from the den of lions, how John the Apostle defied death in boiling oil and how Johan was swallowed whole by a fish and vomited to shore after three days.
These stories live not only in sacred texts but in the collective soul of humanity, timeless reminders that sometimes, against all odds, life finds a way.
Now, another chapter has been added to that long lineage of awe-inspiring survival. In a world where faith often falters, one British man’s story has stunned a grieving world. And that is Ramesh, the sole survivor in the Air India crash.
The miraculous escape of Daniel from the den of lions. PHOTO/EWM.
On a warm Thursday morning in Ahmedabad, India, the Boeing 787 Dreamliner bound for London Gatwick took off under a pale blue sky. Onboard were 232 souls, passengers and crew, embarking on what should have been a routine international flight.
Among them was Ramesh, 40, seated in 11A, unaware that fate was about to carve his name into history. Just thirty seconds into the flight, reality shattered.
“There was a loud noise, and then the plane just… went down,” Ramesh recounted from his hospital bed, his voice trembling. “It happened so fast. When I opened my eyes, everything was burning. Bodies… everywhere. I stood up and ran. I didn’t even think. I just ran.”
Video footage captured by stunned bystanders shows a ball of fire hurtling across the skyline, followed by thick, acrid smoke rising from the crash site. In the chaos, a solitary figure is seen staggering away from the wreckage – dazed, bloodied, but alive. That figure was Ramesh.
In the moments that followed, emergency responders reached the scene, pulling the only survivor from the smouldering debris. “Someone just grabbed me and threw me into an ambulance,” he recalled. “Everything after that is a blur.”
Astonishingly, his injuries were relatively minor. Cuts, bruises, some burns – but nothing life-threatening. As he lay in the hospital, his first thoughts were not of his own survival, but of his family. “Where’s Ajay?” he reportedly asked his father in a trembling voice, referring to his brother, who is believed to have also been on the flight.
The answer remains unclear, and hope mingles with heartbreak as relatives wait for DNA confirmations among the deceased.
A Ramesh’s alleged air-ticket. PHOTO/UGC.
Back home in Leicester, the Ramesh family was plunged into disbelief. “We were just shocked,” said his younger brother, Nayan, 27. “He told us he has no idea how he got out. He’s covered in blood, but he’s alive.”
Another relative, Jay, shared the emotional moment Ramesh spoke to his father after the crash: “He was crying, asking about Ajay. He’s shaken, but he’s doing okay. It’s just… a miracle.”
The crash’s impact extended far beyond those aboard the flight. The aircraft, in its final moments, collided with B J Medical College, ploughing through the canteen and parts of the residential quarters.
Medical students preparing for their rounds became victims of a tragedy no one could have foreseen. At least five were killed. Around fifty were injured.
“It was like a war-zone,” said Divyansh Singh, Vice President of the Federation of All India Medical Association. “The plane came out of the sky and landed on us.”
Images from the aftermath show the horror in stark detail – chunks of the aircraft embedded in walls, mangled landing gear jutting out of collapsed buildings, the tail fin resting against shattered windows. Firefighters worked tirelessly to contain the blaze, as rescue workers sifted through the rubble for any sign of life.
In response, Tata Group, Air India’s parent company, has pledged financial compensation – 10 million rupees (approximately £86,000) for each of the families of those killed. The company also committed to covering the medical expenses of the injured and aiding in the reconstruction of the medical college.
Johan was swallowed whole by a fish and vomited to shore after three days. IMAGE/EWM.
Yet no compensation can erase the scars of that day – the families torn apart, the lives ended in an instant, the futures that will never be realised. And amid all that, the question still echoes: Why him?
Why was Vishwash Kumar Ramesh, a Londoner of two decades, a husband and father, the only one to walk away from the wreckage of Flight AI-472?
Some might call it fate. Others may invoke divine intervention. And some will chalk it up to a sequence of improbable circumstances. Perhaps it was the seat, the angle of the crash, sheer luck.
But for those who know Ramesh, and for the many now mourning the other 232, it feels like something more. It feels like a miracle.
As he recovers, physically and emotionally, Ramesh faces an unimaginable burden: to carry the stories of those who did not make it, to honour the silence left by their absence.
His survival is a beacon of hope in a tragedy of unfathomable proportions – and a reminder that life, however fragile, can still surprise us.
In the end, it is not just about one man escaping death. It is about every life that intersected on that ill-fated flight. It is about grief and resilience. Loss and love. And the quiet, unfathomable strength it takes to walk away from the ashes.
Seat 11A will never just be a number again. It will stand as a symbol – of heartbreak, of hope, and of the mysterious, unexplainable moments when life prevails.
