Prachi and her father Jayesh Gajjar were among the victims who perished when the ill-fated flight crashed into the Atulyam hostel complex in Meghaninagar, where they were delivering tiffins to her aunt and other residents.
A day before the tragic Air India Flight 171 crash, 17-year-old Prachi Gajjar said something to her best friend that now feels deeply sad and unforgettable.
A day before the tragic Air India Flight 171 crash, 17-year-old Prachi Gajjar said something to her best friend that now feels deeply sad and unforgettable. “This is the last time I’m giving you something,” she said with a smile, unaware those words would be the last Disha Thakkar, 18, would ever hear from her.
Prachi and her father Jayesh Gajjar were among the victims who perished when the ill-fated flight crashed into the Atulyam hostel complex in Meghaninagar, where they were delivering tiffins to her aunt and other residents.
Disha and Prachi had been inseparable since Class 9, their bond strengthened by shared dreams and plans to attend the same college. On June 11, just a day before the crash, the two spent time together at Prachi’s home. As they stood on the terrace enjoying the breeze, Prachi grew emotional and embraced her friend tightly.
“She said, ‘No matter what, I’ll always be with you. No one can separate us’,” Disha recalled, her voice trembling. “We hugged and cried. Who knew we were saying goodbye.”
Prachi also insisted on gifting Disha a birthday present—six months late. Disha resisted, but Prachi pulled her to a garment shop, then laid out her own clothes to choose from. “She kept saying, ‘This is the last time I’m giving you something.’ I wish I had taken it,” Disha said.
On the morning of the crash, Prachi invited Disha to join her for the tiffin delivery. Disha, feeling unwell, declined. At noon, Prachi messaged her from her father’s phone: “Call me in the afternoon, I need to talk to you.” That message went unread until it was too late.
That evening, when Disha called back, it was Prachi’s aunt who answered — and broke the devastating news. Prachi, her father, and another aunt had died in the crash. Disha fainted in shock.
“I still feel her around me,” Disha says. “Her voice, softly calling, ‘Oye’.” For a week after, she stayed at Prachi’s home, unable to cope with the sudden void left by her best friend.
In the wreckage of the tragedy, it is the quiet moments and unspoken words that linger the loudest — reminders of a bond cruelly cut short, and a goodbye no one knew was final.