How are you? Are you okay? This voice, coming from London, has been heard every day in this Gujarat village for the past year. It belongs to Omar Ali, originally from Pakistan. He used to work with Kamlesh.Kamlesh was the son of Savdhan Bhai Chaudhary and Ratani Behn. This was because on June 12, 2025, exactly one year ago, Air India’s Ahmedabad-Gatwick Boeing 787 Dreamliner crashed just minutes after takeoff. There were 242 passengers on board, 241 of whom died. Kamlesh and his wife, Thapu Ben, were also on board. Savdhan Bhai is a 48-year-old farmer. He lives with his wife, Ratani Behn, in Thawar village in Gujarat’s Banaskantha district.
After the accident, the grief-stricken husband and wife were running around day and night, trying to make ends meet. That’s when they received a call from Omar Ali. The 40-year-old worked with Kamlesh in a fancy goods store in London.
Now, every day on the way to work, Umar would call Savdhan Bhai. Sometimes they would talk about the weather, sometimes about Savdhan Bhai’s nail infection, or sometimes about the cluster beans he had eaten for lunch. Umar would ask, “What is cluster beans?” What does it look like?
Sometimes the conversation would reach Umar’s clean chef look. Not a single day goes by when we don’t talk on calls or messages. Savdhaan Bhai tells me that if I have even the slightest pain in my nails, he asks me. If someone in his house falls sick, even if he has fever, we get to know about it. Yes brother, how are you? Are you fine? How are you now? The pain in the nails has subsided, the pain in the feet, I don’t know if you have fallen asleep now, that’s why I didn’t call you.
Everything else is fine. Take care of yourself. If you are alone and hear a message, please reply to me. Okay. Okay, bye. Umar says, “I always tell Savdhan Bhai that our relationship was created by God. Kamlesh became the medium of this relationship. I never thought that I would become so close to this family. Talking to them and consoling them gives me peace of mind.” Six months ago, Express reporter Ritu Sharma met Savdhan Bhai in Thawar village for three days.
He came across a 30-second video. It was shot outside Ahmedabad’s Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport on June 12th. It showed Kamlesh and Dhapu at the entry gate. The cautious brother, who never takes videos, had recorded it that day simply because his daughter-in-law was on her first flight. It was her first flight. Returning from Ahmedabad, the parents had traveled more than 100 kilometers.
When news of the accident arrived, he immediately turned the car toward Ahmedabad, hoping for a miracle. But minutes after takeoff, the plane had crashed into the mess building of BJ Medical College. Kamlesh had been living in London since September 2022. He had come to Banaska for his wedding on November 22, 2024. After the wedding, he returned to London. He returned a few months later.
This time to take Dhapu with him. The family told that Kamlesh had got a work visa 2 years ago. He wanted to start a small business in the next 5 years. He wanted to take his younger brother Hitesh along with him. 23 year old Hitesh is doing Masters in Agriculture Business Management from Banaskantha. On January 6 this year, Savdhaan Bhai made another trip to Ahmedabad. He reached the hotel in Ahmedabad where Air India had set up a Family Returns Centre. Where the families of those 241 passengers were to return the remaining belongings of their loved ones.
In that large room, Savdhan Bhai wept like a small child. [Music] He held a few transparent zip-lock bags in his palms. One bag contained his son Kamlesh’s burnt wedding album. Another bag contained a desktop calendar with a photo of Kamlesh and Dhapu Ben. The calendar read, “Two Souls with a Single Thought, Two Hearts That Beat as One.” Its 12 pages contained photographs of the two. A few other bags contained their torn identity cards. Savdhan Bhai says that his life ended the day his elder son and daughter-in-law died. But there was still another part to this story.
For the past one year, a wait has been added to the life of Savdhaan Bhai and Ratni Bhabhi. At 3:00 in the afternoon, Umar calls. Earlier, Umar used to call his parents in Lahore every day before leaving for work. Then this habit changed. Now he has started calling Kamlesh’s parents at the same time. Hello, how are you? I am absolutely fine. How are you? I am also fine. Thank God. So today I woke you up much earlier, right? No, no, no, I was awake anyway. I had to drop Zainab to school. After dropping her to school, I was about to go back home. Yes. Okay, okay. In the beginning, the calls were short.
Savdhaan bhai tried to talk in Hindi. Then again and again he started speaking in Gujarati and kept listening patiently. To understand the grief of a father one does not need language. Hello [nasal voice] Ji, I could not pick up your call as I was busy and was out for a while so could not pick up the phone. So sorry friend, all this, it is quite late now, it is night now, so I will send you this message right now, okay you must also be busy right now, so I will send you this message that sorry friend I could not pick up this call today, that’s it, okay okay, I am absolutely fine, everything is fine, you must also be fine, okay bye. Umar tells that he and Kamlesh were not very close friends.
They simply worked together. Umar worked as a sales manager at Tinni Bhai’s shop. Kamlesh managed another section of the same shop. Then news of the Air India crash came. Umar learned that Kamlesh and Dhapu Ben had died in the plane crash. At that moment, something broke. Umar says, “I felt so sad that I burst into tears. The entire staff came running to me. Everyone started consoling me.”
Tinni Bhai told Umar to call Savdhan Bhai. Umar got his number from Kamlesh’s roommate, Dixit Patel. After several attempts, they finally got through. Umar says, “I still remember his words. He said, ‘My son is gone.’ I knew he was crying on the other end of the phone. I didn’t know what to say. I simply said, ‘Your son, our brother, is gone.’ I told him to be brave and I’ll call again.” Then a new relationship began. It was very simple. One man would call another and ask, “Are you okay? Hello, sir, we went to the doctor. His eyes were watering and burning, so we went there. The doctor prescribed medicine, just one day [nasal voice], a few drops to put in the eyes, just one medicine. And then he had a problem with his glasses, both near and far vision, so he was having headaches. He should get his glasses made for the corrected prescription and everything is fine.” Everything is fine, so we’re home now and have dinner. Now we’re just going to sleep. Okay, thank you. Since Kamlesh’s passing, Savdhan Bhai’s phone has become a repository of his memories.
This phone stores all the messages he sent to Kamlesh’s boss in London, Tanni Bhai. For the past 12 months, Tanni Bhai has been sending ₹500 every month to Savdhan Bhai’s account. This help doesn’t come with any fanfare. It’s a silent support for the family of the hardworking and honest boy who worked in his store. Last month, Savdhan Bhai sent a 10-kilogram parcel to Umar’s London address. It contained homemade ghee, digestive powder, and two packets of dry kachoris for Umar’s wife, Samina. He sent all of this with the same affection he once used to send to Kamlesh.
This relationship is no longer limited to phone calls and memories. A few months ago, Omar sent a blazer and shirt for Kamlesh’s younger brother, Hitesh. He also sent a sweater for Ratni Bhabhi. It’s as if two families, separated by distance, are now sharing each other’s joys, sorrows, and feelings of belonging. June 12th is the anniversary of that tragedy. Be careful, Ratni Bhabhi and her entire family are traveling to Ahmedabad that day.
For them, this isn’t just a journey of a few kilometers. Kamlesh is no longer here, but some relationships remain. Those phone messages have transformed into monthly remittances and unspoken responsibilities.
