A QUARTER of a century may have passed but yesterday the pain and grief of the Air India bombing was remembered when relatives gathered in the ruggedly beautiful but tranquil setting of Ahakista on the Sheep’s Head peninsula in west Cork to honour their loved ones.
Smudges of grey cloud had cleared to reveal an azure sky stretching all the way out Dunmanus Bay to the horizon and the spot some 165 miles offshore where flight 182 was blown out of the sky by a terrorist bomb which claimed the lives of all 329 on board.
For some, such as Dr AV Anataraman from Ottawa, who lost his wife Bhawani and his daughters Aruna (15) and Rupa (11) in the tragedy on June 23rd, 1985, the prospect of coming to Ireland seemed like too daunting a challenge – until now.
“Rupa played the violin and I saw film footage of an Irish soldier holding her violin case after it was recovered in the salvage
operation – she and Aruna were beautiful, talented musicians,” he said, breaking into tears as he pointed to their names on the memorial.
“It’s my first time coming – I didn’t think I could do it until now but I’m so glad that I did. It’s so wonderful to have people pouring out their emotions. I have met so many wonderful people here, I don’t have the words to say how grateful I am for all these people have done.”
The sense of solidarity felt by locals for the families was evident throughout yesterday’s ceremony at the council-maintained memorial, but perhaps was most movingly obvious when the choir from Ahakista National School sang the Beatles’ Let It Be.
“And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be, ” soared the tremulous voices of the children only to be joined by many from among the 300-strong crowd in a moment of extraordinary and exquisite poignancy.
Of course, the piercing sadness of the atrocity was further evidenced by the details of the deceased placed above the memorial – black and white photographs of men and women and children smiling out in innocence of the fate that would befall them off the west Cork coast.
“Engineer”, “Homemaker”, “Student”, “Physician” – brief descriptions of what the deceased had done were written beside their dates of birth and common date of death.
Perhaps most poignant of all was the number of children who died and the simple descriptions, “Child” or “Toddler”.
Minister for Foreign Affairs Micheál Martin noted how the tragic events of June 23rd, 1985, had forged “unbreakable bonds between the peoples of three continents, bonds that cross the world” before pledging that the relatives of the deceased will always be welcome in Ireland.
“This sacred place, here on the Atlantic coast of Ireland, belongs to us all. “It is a symbol that we will never forget the events of that tragic day or those who were lost. It is a rejection of the hatred and violence of terrorism.”
And among those who embodied that spirit of rejecting hatred was Chris Rodricks, whose wife Elaine was an air hostess aboard the Air India jet and who was left on his own to raise his 17-month-old daughter, Kriselle, who sadly has no recollection of her mother.
“I am still hurting over Elaine,” said Mr Rodricks, who now lives in London, “but I forgive those who did this because they really don’t know what they’ve done. They’re just motivated by hate and if they’re doing that in the name of religion, something is wrong somewhere.”
