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Hyderabad Tears, Prayers and Unfinished Goodbyes: Human Stories From the Madinah Bus Tragedy

In a narrow lane of Hyderabad’s Tolichowki, the entrance of a modest two-storey home is crowded with neighbours, relatives, and friends. Women sit together, their sobs rising and falling like waves of grief, while men stand silently, staring into space, unable to process the enormity of the loss.

Just a week ago, this same lane was filled with joy, prayers and excitement. Eighteen members of an extended family, spread across three generations, boarded a flight to Saudi Arabia for Umrah, a pilgrimage they had dreamed of undertaking together. Today, only one body has been identified so far. Seventeen are still waiting to return — in coffins.

“They left with smiles, dressed in white, ready for Umrah. We took their photos at the airport. We never thought those would be their last pictures,” says Mohammed Salman, whose parents and two young daughters were among the passengers.


The Last Phone Call

Another victim, a 62-year-old retired school teacher, had spoken to her son hours before the accident.

“Ammi said she was tired but happy. She told me to keep her favourite dish ready when she returned,” recalls her son, breaking down midway.
“She promised to call me after Fajr prayers. Instead, I got a call saying the bus had burned. I can’t believe it.”


A Mother Who Still Believes Her Son Will Walk In

Inside another home in Mehdipatnam, a mother holds her son’s passport to her chest, rocking back and forth in silent agony.

Her 28-year-old son had funded his Umrah trip by saving every rupee from his small computer repair shop.

“He was so proud. He said, ‘Ammi, pray that I return a better person.’ Why did Allah not hear my prayer?” she cries, refusing to accept the news.

Despite confirmations from officials, she keeps looking toward the gate every few minutes.

“Maybe they are mistaken. Maybe he survived. Maybe he is still coming home.”


The Lone Survivor

The only surviving passenger, 24-year-old Mohammed Abdul Shoiab, was seated near the driver and thrown out by the force of the collision. He regained consciousness in a hospital bed, asking doctors only one question:

“Where is my family? Are they safe?”

Doctors say he has not yet been told that his family members perished in the fire. Relatives fear the trauma will crush him.


A Silent Home That Was Once Full of Laughter

At a quiet home in Bandlaguda, children play with toys that belonged to cousins who are never coming back.

“They promised to bring Zamzam water and prayer beads for everyone,” says 9-year-old Ayaan softly, not fully understanding why the house is full of crying adults.

The family had been planning a celebration for their return — a hall was booked, biryani was ordered, lights were ready to be hung.

Now, cardboard boxes meant for party décor lie unopened in a corner, covered with funeral white cloth.


A Tragedy Shared by an Entire Community

Local mosques have been overflowing with mourners.
People who never met the victims feel the pain as if they were family.

“We prayed for their safe return. Now we pray for their peace,” says an elderly neighbour.

Community volunteers are helping families contact authorities and complete documentation, while counselling teams have been called in for emotional support.


The Long Wait for Closure

Saudi authorities are working on identification through DNA and forensic reports because many bodies are charred beyond recognition.

“Until we see their faces, we cannot say they are gone,” says a relative, clutching prayer beads tightly.

For these families, grief is suspended — between hope and acceptance, between faith and tragedy.


‘They Went to Pray — God Chose Them on Holy Land’

Amid the tears, many find strength in belief:

“If Allah decided this as their destiny, we must accept it. They died on sacred land, while on the path of worship. It is a blessed death,” says an imam who is consoling families.

But even faith trembles in the face of so much loss.


A City That Will Never Forget

The flames that engulfed the bus on the Madinah highway have reached thousands of hearts in India.
What was meant to be a journey of devotion has turned into a national tragedy.

For 45 families, the world has changed forever.

Today, Hyderabad cries.
The nation bows its head in silence.
And the question remains — could this have been prevented?


 In Remembrance

May the departed rest in peace. Strength to every grieving heart.

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