When IndiGo crashed, the government didn’t even try to take-off
The Union government cannot distance itself from this disaster. It should immediately take up the matter through an adjournment motion in Parliament, place all facts before the public without sugar-coating, and issue an unqualified apology and pay compensation. More importantly, the Civil Aviation Minister should resign—not because resignation is a punishment, but because it is the only way to restore credibility. His stepping down after explaining the sequence of lapses in Parliament would elevate his dignity, not diminish it.
For four days straight, India’s civil aviation sector has witnessed one of the worst breakdowns in its history. Passengers travelling on IndiGo flights have endured what can only be described as a nightmare—abandoned inside airports, stranded and left without food, water, information, or even basic human courtesy.
What unfolded was not merely a technical snag or operational glitch; it was a colossal human rights failure in full public view. Yet the airline responsible for the chaos continued with its templated apologies, the government remained a mute spectator, and the very institutions meant to protect citizens from corporate high-handedness simply looked the other way.
The crisis has all the signs of a match-fixing deal between IndiGo and the government, culminating in the hasty withdrawal of the new FDTL norms—after passengers suffered for nearly 96 hours. If the rules were so wrong, why did the government wait until thousands of Indians spent 15–20 hours in airports, lost money, missed events, starved, and endured severe anxiety? If the rules were necessary, why withdraw them under pressure? Either way, the collapse of both governance and airline accountability is complete.
This is a fit case where the Union Civil Aviation Minister must resign. He failed to ensure a smooth transition to the new regulations, buckled under corporate pressure, and allowed the public to become collateral damage in a power tussle between the country’s largest airline and its regulator.
A national failure, and national silence:
The most shameful part of this ordeal is not just IndiGo’s incompetence or government’s paralysis; it is also the utter silence of those who otherwise posture as guardians of civil liberties. Human rights activists who rush to the Supreme Court at midnight over selective causes had nothing to say when thousands of ordinary Indians—senior citizens, women, and children—were suffering in airports.
The opposition that claims to represent people’s voices did not demand accountability, compensation, or even a basic inquiry. Not one of them demanded that IndiGo pay at least ₹4 lakh compensation to each affected passenger, despite the scale of trauma that was inflicted on them. Because air travellers, unlike many other groups, are not an organised voting bloc—their suffering is politically irrelevant.
Corporate arrogance without consequence:
What makes this worse is the sheer hypocrisy of these large corporates. Airlines and corporates that routinely file civil and criminal defamation suits worth ₹50 crore against media houses for minor discomforts to their “reputation” suddenly see no obligation to compensate passengers whose lives they upended. A casual “sorry for the inconvenience” is apparently deemed sufficient atonement for forcing families to spend 20 hours on airport floors, making senior citizens stand for 40 minutes, and leaving travellers hungry in airports where even a dosa costs ₹350.
If these corporates thrive because of the passengers who fill their seats, then they owe those passengers accountability—not excuses.
Govt failure is even bigger:
The Union government cannot distance itself from this disaster. It should immediately take up the matter through an adjournment motion in Parliament, place all facts before the public without sugar-coating, and issue an unqualified apology and pay compensation.
More importantly, the Civil Aviation Minister should resign—not because resignation is a punishment, but because it is the only way to restore credibility. His stepping down after explaining the sequence of lapses in Parliament would elevate his dignity, not diminish it.
Monopoly, duopoly and a manufactured crisis:
This entire episode reeks of IndiGo-manufactured pressure tactics. The airline failed spectacularly in preparing new FDTL rules or deliberately created chaos to strong-arm the government into reversing them. Either way, it proves the dangers of monopoly and duopoly in Indian aviation. All other smaller players implemented the new rules, and they did not face any disruptions.
When one airline operates 2,300 flights a day—a scale no competitor comes close to—it becomes powerful enough to bend rules, influence decisions, and hold the entire nation hostage.
My own experience of IndiGo’s callousness:
I speak not merely as an observer but as a victim. I personally waited 10 hours at Mumbai airport—without water, without information, without a single IndiGo staffer offering basic assistance. Several others were stranded for 15–20 hours, many of them unable to afford overpriced airport food. Not everyone can spend ₹250 on coffee and ₹350 on a snack every few hours.
IndiGo’s behaviour bordered on cruelty. Flight 6E 5213 (Hyderabad): Delayed by 7 hours. Flight 6E 6712 (Ahmedabad–Mumbai): Passengers made to stand 40 minutes in the boarding line; delayed 2+ hours; not even a free meal served. Flight 5189 (Mumbai–Ahmedabad): Operated only after passengers staged a dharna and blocked boarding for a Bengaluru flight that was being prioritised. At 3:45 am, passengers were served a tasteless biryani, as if that solved anything. On the actual flight, not even coffee was provided.
Is this customer service or mockery?
Profiteering on people’s misery:
While IndiGo imploded, other airlines and hotels smelled opportunity. Instead of helping stranded citizens, they looted them. The ticket rates were hiked showing absolute love only for money not humanity. The fare for Mumbai–Kolkata was ₹70,000, Delhi–Chennai (Air India): ₹58,000, Delhi–Bengaluru: ₹51,000, Hyderabad–Delhi (Air India): ₹47,000, Mumbai–Kolkata (SpiceJet): ₹75,000 Akasa, Delhi–Bengaluru: ₹40,000.
For this kind of money, one can book an international flight to the US. There was a case where the bridegroom and the invitees who were over 100 passengers suffered as their flight was cancelled. Hotels near Delhi airport—normally charging ₹8,000–₹15,000—hiked rates to ₹25,000–₹30,000. Five-star hotels charged ₹30,000–₹45,000. All while many Indians were already suffering due to governmental failure and airline mismanagement.
The DGCA, aviation ministry, and airport authorities showed no urgency. Parking bays got choked because IndiGo’s grounded aircraft clogged the system, affecting even unaffected airlines. National skiing teams got stranded in Chennai. Mumbai–Chennai flights were cancelled in bulk. Several Ayyappa devotees faced the worst conditions as they had no flights and as per traditions, they cannot go back to their house till their pilgrimage is completed. And through all this, no one took responsibility, issued penalties, or even demanded transparency.
The arrogance from IndiGo reached absurd levels when the airline began telling passengers: “Take the refund if you want.” As if people’s lives, schedules, and mental suffering can be compensated by returning ticket fare.
Centre must walk the talk:
The Prime Minister often says people wearing hawai chappals should also fly. Yet when those very people were humiliated, starved, stranded, and financially exploited, the government looked the other way. This is not walking the talk; this is abandoning the talk altogether. If the government truly wants to protect passengers, it must: Enforce strict penalties for operational negligence; break the monopoly-duopoly structure in aviation; prioritise passengers—not corporates—in its regulations and ensure transparent communication before, during, and after crises.
A crisis that exposed everything:
This was not weather-related. Not an act of God. Not an unavoidable glitch. This was IndiGo-made chaos, enabled by a compliant government and silent regulators.
If IndiGo and the Ministry of Civil Aviation do not act with transparency, accountability, and a defined roadmap for recovery, the airline may still run its 2,300 flights a day—but the trust of Indian passengers, once broken, will take far longer to take off again.
(The author is former Chief Editor of The Hans India)
