Tarun Karthick
Sri Vijaya Puram, 11 April 2025
In the afternoon of 10th April 2025, as the engines of AirAsia Flight AK-54 roared one last time at 12:25 PM, a quiet heartbreak swept across the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. It wasn’t just a plane lifting off the tarmac of Veer Savarkar International Airport—it was the hopes, dreams, and aspirations of thousands of Islanders taking flight and disappearing into the sky, uncertain if they will ever return.
Just five months ago, on 16th November 2024, the islands stood on the threshold of a new era. In what was hailed as a historic milestone, AirAsia Flight AK-55 landed from Kuala Lumpur, becoming the first-ever international commercial flight to touch down at Sri Vijaya Puram. That day was etched into memory as the beginning of a new dawn—an era where Islanders could, for the first time, fly out of the country directly from their home. Business leaders rejoiced, tourism stakeholders brimmed with excitement, and a sense of connection to the world beyond had finally become real.
But on Thursday, that dream came to a sudden and painful end.
Without much fanfare, without an explanation that could soothe the sting, the international flight service was withdrawn—quietly, abruptly, and without a roadmap for what comes next.
The Veer Savarkar International Airport, which had proudly worn the ‘International’ title, now returns to being one in name only. With the exit of AirAsia, the airport is left once again without a single operational international route.
For the people of the Islands, this isn’t just a lost route—it is a lost opportunity, a collective failure, and a gut-wrenching disappointment. The withdrawal has left the business community in shock and the tourism sector devastated. There was widespread hope that the Administration and the Government of India would intervene, step in, negotiate, or incentivise AirAsia to stay. But whatever efforts were made—if any—weren’t enough. And what truly went wrong remains unknown.
Could the route not have been salvaged with fewer flights per week—maybe two, or even just one? Could cargo transport have supplemented the revenue to keep the route viable? These are questions that now linger in frustration and silence. The reality is stark: AirAsia walked away.
And we—the Islanders, the administration, and the government—failed to make them stay.
The launch of the international flight had ignited boundless optimism. Every tourism stakeholder that Nicobar Times spoke with back then was filled with hope—hope for new tourists, for cross-border partnerships, for global recognition. Some even went the extra mile, investing time and money to market the Islands in Malaysia, and to promote Malaysia to Island visitors in return.
Today, those investments lie in limbo. The marketing campaigns, the brochures—all of it, seemingly in vain.
The sense of being forgotten has returned. For a brief window, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands had a foot in the global doorway. That door has now been slammed shut.
This is not just about a flight. This is about what it represented—connectivity, ambition, global belonging, and most of all, hope. That hope soared high with AK-55 on November 16. And now, it is gone.
What remains is a piercing question: When will we fly international again?