On June 12, a plane took off from India, with more than 200 people who were about to make a new beginning in London but unfortunately, none of them knew that it would be their final flight.
The plane never made it. It crashed within 30 seconds. How sad. Just within one moment, lives that wanted to start a new life were shattered, and over 200 futures erased. Even to this day, the world still struggles to understand how quickly everything can be taken away. This reminds us, sadly, that every breath is borrowed, and what we don’t know is the time when it will be taken away.
There was a family of five on board, about three kids and their parents. They were moving to the UK to start a new chapter. They had packed their lives into smaller bags, with new hopes. Maybe they had said emotional goodbyes to relatives, promising to call when they landed. Maybe the children had imagined what their new home would look like and were excited about meeting new friends, new environment and possibly new start. But they never got to see it. Their journey ended in flames and in excruciating pain. Such a big loss to humanity!
Among the wreckage, a young man survived. If the world has never recorded a miracle in recent years, narrow escape of this young man is one of the 21st century’s miracles. He lived to tell a story that no one would want to live through. And through his survival, we are reminded of something we often forget: life is fragile. Deep down, we know this. But we push it away.
We live as if we are guaranteed tomorrow, as if time will always wait. We delay saying “I love you,” we hold on to grudges, and we assume that we can always fix things later. But what if later never comes? Imagine cousins or brothers not talking to each other for years. Maybe there is a lot to learn about the end of a human life, that we should be more forgiving, even when it hurts and more so, when it is still early.
This plane crash forces us to pause, to self-reflect. It brings us face to face with the painful truth that no one knows what the next hour holds. When those passengers boarded the plane, they didn’t know they were stepping into their final moments. They were probably chatting, listening to music, looking out the window, or sleeping. And then everything ended in split seconds. Just like that. Take a moment to imagine for yourself how that one feels.
And yet, in the aftermath, the world didn’t slow down to mourn. Crowds rushed to the crash site, not to help, but to record videos. People took out their phones and pointed their cameras at broken bodies, shattered wings, and burning dreams. It felt more like a show than a tragedy. It was heartbreaking to see that even in death, the victims couldn’t find peace and the love that they deserved.
This tells us something darker. Have we lost our humanity? Have we become so addicted to content and clicks that we forget to feel? Where is the compassion? Where is the silence, the tears, and the respect?
There is something truly wrong when suffering becomes entertainment, when grief becomes a trend, and when someone else’s worst moment becomes just another video on someone’s feed. We must ask ourselves, is this the kind of world we want to live in? Maybe we pray that the world doesn’t give us the same treatment during our last days.
Because life is too short, too unpredictable, and too beautiful to be treated this way. We must return to love. We must hold on tighter to those we care about. We must forgive, even when it is hard. We must show kindness, even when no one sees it. Because that is what it means to be human.
The lesson here is simple: live in the moment. Laugh deeply. Hug often. Say the things you are afraid to say. Take some risks. Give to those in need. Pursue a career. Fall in love. Tell people you love them. Apologize. Be present. Stop waiting for the perfect time to be happy. The perfect time may never come.
If that family of five had known that it was their last day, what would they have done differently? Would they have hugged longer at the airport? Would they have smiled more, laughed harder, or spoken softer? We will never know. But we can honor them and all those who died by living differently. By choosing to see each day not as something ordinary, but as a chance. A gift.
This doesn’t mean we should live in fear. It means we should live knowing that every goodbye might be the last one. That every breath we take is a quiet miracle. And that the people around us aren’t guaranteed to be there tomorrow. So call your mother. Forgive your brother. Check on your friend. Take your wife or husband out once in a while and have some fun. Say sorry. Say thank you. Say “I love you.” Don’t wait. Don’t put your joy on hold. Be happy as push through life. Peace.