From Hope to Heartbreak: Lamnunthem Singson's Mother Collapses After Learning Daughter Died in Air India Crash

The devastating Air India crash that claimed the lives of 241 people, including 12 crew members, has plunged countless families into unimaginable sorrow. Among the victims was Lamnunthem Singson, a young woman whose dreams were as bright as her smile—and whose journey ended far too soon.

Her brothers arrived in Ahmedabad late Friday evening for the painful task of submitting DNA samples. The purpose: to help identify what remains of their beloved sister. For a family bound by love, the waiting had become unbearable.

Back home in their modest rented house, a haunting silence lingered. Nunthem’s widowed mother, Nemneilhing Singson, clung to the hope that her daughter was merely in an intensive care unit, fighting for life. The family had shielded her from the truth, terrified that the blow would be too much to bear.

But by Friday noon, the truth could no longer be kept hidden.

When the family finally broke the news to her, Nemneilhing collapsed to the ground, wailing in anguish. Her only daughter—her pillar of strength, her hope—was gone. The walls that once echoed with laughter now trembled under the weight of unspeakable grief.

Until that moment, no one dared mourn openly. No tears had been shared publicly. The grief was suffocating, yet silent—out of respect, out of fear. But once the mother knew, sorrow burst forth from every heart that had held it in. Condolences began pouring in. Visitors arrived. Words fell short.

CRPF DIG Manish Kumar Sachar visited the bereaved family Friday morning. His presence was solemn, his condolences sincere. "No words can ever ease the pain of a mother who has lost her child," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

That same evening, the Thadou Baptist Association (TBA) Church in Kangpokpi—where Nunthem and her family had once sung hymns and shared fellowship—held a special condolence service. Members of the church and residents of the town gathered in quiet solidarity.

Through tearful voices, they sang consoling hymns. Prayers rose like fragile whispers to the heavens. They mourned not just a life lost, but a future erased.

Lamnunthem Singson was more than just a name on a Cabin Crew list. She was a daughter, a sister, a friend. She had dreams, she had love to give, and she had a world to see. Now, her absence leaves a void that no time can ever fill.

In the stillness of the night, her mother whispers prayers for a daughter who will never walk through the door again.