This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse the site you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse the site you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Sanjay Turlapati
Death Date : 23-Jun-1985
Deepak Turlapati
Death Date : 23-Jun-1985





Sanjay and Deepak were victims of terrorist bomb placed by sikh terrorists living in Vancouver area of Canada on Air India plane (Kanishka) travelling from Toronto to Delhi which exploded in mid-air off the coast of Ireland on 23rd June 1985.
They were innocent young men aged 14 and 11 years and were our only children.
In their loving memory inserted by their parents (father and mother) Turlapatis


Deepak and Sanjay


Speech by Padmini Turlapati on 23 rd June 2019 at the memorial site in Ahakista, Ireland

Dear Excellencies, Dignitaries and Friends,

We three representatives of the victims’ families have been blessed to see all of you take time off your Sunday to partake of our 34 th visit to our beloved sanctuary here. Who would have thought, dreamt, envisaged that this tragedy would foster a bond between Canadians, Indo-Canadians and you the Irish that would cement and grow into a spontaneous, seamless, soulful symphony. I hear music in my ears long after I return to Toronto. I would like to specially mention Mark who brought Sanjay out of the ocean for us to hold in our arms. Michael Murphy the main force procuring, shaping this site, sharing of himself, family and crew. Nouala, Tim, Brenda, Agnes, Joe, Angela, Mary, James and Ruth - God send one and all. All through these 34 years you have upheld, uplifted, nurtured and supported us. We came to you broken. You need not have, but your hospitality, your effortless generosity was spent in healing us, further, in befriending us and giving us this site to call our own. We have been humbled. Our heartfelt gratitude is ever yours truly. Sanjay & Deepak couldn’t have chosen a better place or humane people. For me & Babu and Babu Pulle (my eternal grandson) this pilgrimage site will attest to that. We came here and at this site we plant and pray. A garden of love has and is growing and blooming. This transcends every emotion as we are assured that this sacred site will remain so for all our lives and beyond.

Amen to that.

Sanjay our 14-year-old, teenager was quiet, bright but humble. When he was 9 years old, my mother told him that mothers are God’s representatives on earth and must be cherished so. When he came to Kaduna, Nigeria where my husband, Deepak & I were. Sanjay was to be and continued to be my holy terror - he stood up when I came into the room, helped me with whatever I was doing, always stood a step behind on my right side when I was going about or out, always smiling and calm. Even when he was engrossed watching an interesting climax on TV and I said I am going downstairs to the laundry room of the apartment building, he got up and came with me. When I and Babu were having an argument, I sensed Sanjay behind me and turned. He was leaning against the door. He looked at me and said “grow up” and left. After his death, his 5 th /6 th grade teachers came and told me that they had discussed Sanjay. His 5 th grade teacher, an Irish lady, said that she saw a halo around his head. In his school journal 10 year old Sanjay wrote a poem ‘Death be not proud’ (when his dog died). She wanted him to write more and intended to publish a book! He used to listen to music with his head on the floor and feet up on the sofa and in that music, he said he found me (I was at that time in St Johns, Newfoundland, 1000 miles away).

Deepak, our 11 year old, was intelligent, active, bubbly, rebellious yet lovable and he bossed Sanjay. He cleaned his room and bed and after his death I discovered a whole world under his neat bed! He loved music, danced to Michael Jackson. When his friends teased him about classical music he stood up to them “well that’s music too, isn’t it?”. He wanted to earn money, be given a newspaper route. When he phoned “I have a 14 year old brother who doesn’t want a job so why can’t a 11 year old get it if he wants a job. What has age got to do with delivering newspapers?” and he was hired. I was scared of him going alone to all the 50 apartments in the two buildings so I asked Sanjay to go with him. Of course, Sanjay landed up picking up the newspaper bundles, sorting them out, putting them in the cart & pushing the cart. Deepak would knock on the door and graciously deliver it to the owner with a smile. When he was paid money at the end of the month, I asked Deepak to share it with Sanjay “No, mom don’t you know?” he said “you never share your money or your wife!”.

Just the other day, I was feeling your voices have gone fainter, your faces appeared less often & I felt sad. But my heart beat louder as if to say “Sanjay is in your blood flowing in you and Deepak your sight that brings light into your soul. How can you think that you have been left adrift? Remember Sanjay is the zest, Deepak the light- internalize – and seek the warmth that’s always within you”. I sheepishly sensed Deepak “Mom what am I going to do with you? I know you miss us more at Ahakista, well…….sorry…you can’t come up to us until your time is up. You see mom” he explained “Between life and death God keeps control of when you are born and when you will die. All the time in between is yours so cheer yourself up. Mom,

Listen to the whisper of the moonlight on water

May your listening be attuned

To the deeper Silence

Where sound is honed

To bringing distance home.

If you listen again, mom, you will hear me in these waters (saying I love you) & Sanjay above will enfold you tenderly in his hug and the air blows on your cheeks. Hey Sanjay blow air fast, ruffle her hair till it spikes up like I spiked my hair, remember mom you hated it. Well see mom you look pretty with your hair spiked”.

Yes, I sigh

No one knows the wonder your children awaken in you. Your heart a perfect cradle to hold its presence inside & outside becoming one

As new waves of love kept surprising your soul.

Now you sit bereft, reliving this nightmare. No parent should ever see their only children die violently, bear their absence, always wondering why such souls were taken home so soon. Silent tears flow, your eyes clear and see how your eternal children have become unseen angels who parent your hearts & persuade the moon to send her gentle light on them.

Mom, close your eyes, gather all the kindling around your heart to create one spark. That is all you need to nourish the flames that will cleanse all fear from you. Your soul has a special destiny here, something beautiful is unfolding. Please mom, learn to see yourself with the same delight, pride and expectation with which God sees you every moment. When your time comes, we will be here to give you a wonderful welcome.

Though we need to weep your loss

You dwell in that safe place in our hearts

Where no harm storm night or pain can reach you.

Though we can‘t see you with outward eyes

we know our soul’s gaze is upon you

smiling back at us from within everything to which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory

where we would grow lonely without you.

You would want us to find you in presence

Besides us when beauty brightens,

when kindness glows

and music echoes eternal tones,

when orchids brighten the earth,

Darkest winter turns to spring

May this dark grief flower with hope

in every heart that loves you

May you continue to inspire us.

We will pass each day generously

with courage & love

Until we see your beloved faces again.

In the land where there is no more separation

where all tears will be wiped from our mind

And where we will never lose you again. Thanks, till we meet again.



Speech by Padmini Turlapati delivered on 23 June, 2018 at Ahakista, Ireland Memorial site.

Dear friends,

I am home again to your everlasting genuine Irish hospitality, set free to be with Sanjay & Deepak. Sanjay diffuses into me as I hug the air that encircles me while Deepak bounces and keeps bouncing away in the waters. Stop a moment, Deepak, how can I hug you? I love you more than I can say. Time only knows the price we have to pay when we weep and stumble-time puts a comforting hand to ease the pangs away.

That last day at home Sanjay said ‘ ok mom now don’t fret, I have taken God’s blessing and put the passports and money carefully. I will e mail you from London enroute India and I will even look after that brat’. Deepak was kissing everything in the room goodbye the TV, the chairs inclusive.” What are you doing?” OK I will kiss you goodbye too and he landed two loud wet yakee kisses on my cheeks.” Get on with you” and he left.

The flowers that once bloomed forever died

I sent my soul through the invisible

Some letter of that after life to spell

And by and by my soul returned to me

And answered ‘ I myself am Heaven& Hell !’

Mom, I wish you find in yourself enough patience to endure and enough simplicity to have faith, that you may gain more& more confident in what is difficult and in your solitude among other people.

Amid this isle of wondrous beauty in Ireland

Crouching over the right side of this memorial a sorrowful mother proud, private yet bent seated on this ground

For 33 years she silently mourns her only two heirs

of all the earth her heart most full of sorrow

because most full of love

Yet a word , mother

for know you the ones you know are not in that grave the sons you love, the Lord is not dead he is risen again young and strong in another country even while you wept.

While you wept for was translated passed from the grave in the ocean

winds found the sea and sailed it

and now with rosy and new blood

moves today in a new country.

Pain can turn this hearts cradle

to stone and there is in each life

a time that cuts so deeply, that the

soul would unmesh and lose itself in its

wish – just a  glimpse of Sanjay and Deepak

that call like an icon.

Voices become echoes that struggle to return the pulse slows down to a thud.

I loved you both more than my life and brought this down on you by sending you on that fateful flight

now I sit over these pages

trying to, from quiet desperation, make a raft of word for you to hold to me—ask your forgiveness.

I seek help from the spirits of the ocean that your heads be anointed with dew

and break tranquillity into both of you

to keep before your closing eyes

 the times we were together lost in my motherly embrace and dads too

 the four of us lost in Eternity of bliss. Sons of my heart don’t let this pain seal the skin of stone about you—for one time—let pass and I will let you fill in the heart and soul as openly as air lets in the night.

 I/we have come on pilgrimage to Ahakista. This place, the landscape has a soul and a presence and is a living mode of silence as is always wrapped in seamless prayer. Nothing resembles God as much as silence. Amazing tenderness somehow reaches you at night when you get a chance to look at the sky and becomes aware of the infinite distances that are out there and the light that is reaching you now is coming from the stars that have gone out of existence for thousands of years.

When you love someone you create a unique and particular kind of special place that you share with no one else and when that is lost in death absence haunts your heart and makes your belonging sore and painful. The absence of their lives, the absence of their voices, faces and presence becomes something that begins to grow beside you like a tree.

There is still within you some kind of innocence that is either unable or unwilling to accept that person has finally gone forever. Everyone that leaves your life, leaves a subtle trail of connection with you, and when you think of them & miss them& desire them your heart journeys out again along that trial towards them in the elsewhere where they may now find themselves .

Sensing each other strangely close where few reach

suddenly your voice

calling out my name

I call your name

the echoes for us

Lo the heart of the mountains

when the silence closes

you say ‘ Now that they have called our name back

the mountains can never forget us

May you realise that you have a special destiny here

that behind the façade of your life

there is something & beautiful & eternal happening

May you learn to see your self

with the same delight

pride and expectation

with which God sees you in every moment.

In 1984 I had to go to St Johns, Newfoundland to do my residency without which my Indian degrees were of no use. I had to leave my 13 and 10 year olds with their father in Toronto. In the afternoon Sanjay would warm their lunch. One day Deepak had a roti and wanted another one, give that to me he insisted and Sanjay did & was to write in his journal for me to read ‘ he did not know that there were only two and that there was no roti for me’ how I have cried since( there is bread, fruits, lots of things to eat – but this child went hungry!)

I would phone to talk to children in the afternoon. Deepak will chat and chat away. Sanjay wouldn’t he would say daddy said he could afford to phone only on weekends—but Sanjay I am phoning you – deaf ears! What is it with men! I used to wait on tenterhooks to talk to Sanjay on weekends, don’t you want to talk to me, oh yes he said so when I think of you I put my head on a pillow on the floor, fold my knees & lift my feet on the sofa then put on the music and listen and as you taught me I lose myself in its rhythm I find you there. I sent aeroplane ticket to Deepak to visit me for a week ( I couldn’t afford two) He came and daily after work I would take a bus and take him to downtown. Surprise, surprise he would refuse all his favourites—so well when he returned to Toronto he said Ma I refused all those because Sanjay said you are going to Newfoundland and you will spend all mummy’s money and then we will have none for a house. Logic of children! Idea of pocket money struck me and I used to send five dollars to Deepak and ten dollars to Sanjay to buy whatever they want. Deepak was always describing a chocolate donut so I thought he will buy one. I asked him if he had. He said “ oh no not with my money—it’s the parents job to provide food for the child so dad will have to buy it for me.” Babu got furious ‘ what do you think I don’t buy for this brat! ‘ men oh men.

Deepak acted in ‘Owl’ TV shows. When he passed away in his bank account and under his bed he had 1000 dollars saved. He used to also sell newspapers but I was scared to let a 10 year old going alone to all apartments serving papers at the doorstep. So I enlisted Sanjay’s help to accompany Deepak. Sanjay would collect the newspapers bundle putting all of them in the cart, pull the cart for Deepak while Deepak would take the paper Sanjay offered and give it to the home. When the pay check came I told Deepak to share it with Sanjay. Deepak declined saying ‘ mom don’t you know you shouldn’t share your wife or your money’?

When he died, a ninety year old woman from the other apartment building called to say she was sorry who would do for her now. He always gave her newspaper with a smile. He would sometime ride to her apartment on his cycle to just make sure you are alive, do you need anything and he would fetch her milk etc she needed.

I had gone to Toronto in 1985 to put them on the plane. The school was closing for the summer but had a concert on that day. Deepak was playing trumpet with the song Bolero and kept pushing his friend off the side so I could see Deepak better. He acted impromptu the lead role in a play when the lead fellow fell sick. He did such a grand job that he received accolades after accolades. He was to tell me I am going to be an actor. My teacher said. I am a natural actor. He went travelling two days later-----

Thank you all.





Dear Excellencies, dignitories and friends,

Narayana Turlapati and I lost our two sons 14 year old Sanjay ( knowledge) and 11 year old Deepak ( Light). So, on the 32nd anniversary of senseless darkness, we have come seeking oblivion. We have been blessed by the Irish weather. We have been graced by the presence of brother Vijay and his wife Beena, Kalsi family, Gary & Ruth from Canada, Mark & Julia from UK, Brenda from Dublin Mary Hegarty,James and Geraldine Hegarty ,Angela, Agnes & Joe Hegarty, Brigette and Babu Pulle, my grandson all of his 78 years and all of you that have come here today. Missed are Murthy, Murphy and Nouala. Hope they get well soon. At times when our light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another, each of us think with gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. Every act of kindness creates a ripple with no logical end. We meet each other with smiles – smiles of love to complete the circle of friends and all become anamcara. We count our blessings.

Enveloped by a gusty wind, doused by misty rain, we were welcomed  (31 years now) by Agnes at our cottage. She said “ May all the weight of the world fall from your shoulders, may your heart be tranquil here. Blessed by peace at Ahakista in this safe place full of love”. We are home.

Like the restless tide we come in and chip from shore of your love-fulfilled-we recede and return again and again and yet again.

Look at the garden on how it has grown and bloomed. 29 years ago I planted pink Azelias on the right hand side of this wall where my children’s names are and another one 24 years ago at the entrance on the right and they blossom pink WELCOME with careless abandon and solid impunity. We planted a few flowers, thanks to you all for the rest. Now it has its own identity. This sacred land surrounded by the silent mountains and chirpy blue water shares with us Irish mysticism, spirituality, spontaneity, generosity and hospitality. One drop of nectar imbibed here lifts me up, wherein, that moment I can glimpse at Sanjay and Deepak as they call Ma – that’s enough eternity for me.

Daily in Toronto, before I sleep I look at your photos and say, “forgive me” for there is no closure. Justice has not been served and will never be. Your deaths were in vain. Only I am responsible for the decision that took you to that fatal plane.

Daily in Ahakista, before I sleep, I look at your photos and say “ thank you” sprung from everlasting gratitude for enabling us our pilgrimage to seek you in this paradise. As I stand here and see the garden, the wall, names, pictures on one side and the mountains & ocean on the other side, the beauty humbles me to tears. O cry of love let the flowing tear water find its way into the water below and thence to ocean rhythm until it becomes a crest of joyous wave.

If I was sleeping, Deepak would come lift one of my eyelids up and drop it and say “Oops!!! I was just checking to see if you were asleep” and would sit and talk – my sleep erased. That night (before the journey day) I sensed his coming and pretended to sleep. He came – and instead – he patted my head gently and tiptoed away. How I wish I had reached out and hugged him tenderly. So many things unsaid and undone weave inside a web of maternal emptiness. Over the years, faces fade a little, voices whisper silently, memories gather holes and a fear arises deep within if in a few years of insidious seeping, creeping, setting of amnestic dementia (will I forget them now? how can I live?)- so if in the years to come you see me around, hold my hand and bring me to this sacred place – Sanjay from the sky and Deepak from the water will use Irish magic and mend their Ma back whole again.

As I grow older and have retired, I have more time to mull, ponder and wonder. My sensitivity increases. In me, I find a tenderness anew; I feel a surge of love deep within me, waiting to break the bonds of tradition and inhibitions, wanting to be released to the passion that can heal all hurts and the dignity to be free. Stranded between time gone back and time emerging, confused of where I am instead of looking out from here & now. My brothers, Ashok & Vijay, say “Always procrastinating. When will you live in here and now. Stop dreaming!!!”

Deepak says, gather yourself and decide carefully how to lead life and pave way for a silent exit. But my son, all I want is your hand holding mine walking on this green grass come:

He will not come and still I wait

He whistles at another gate

Where angels listen. Ah I know

He will not come, yet, if I go

How shall I know he did not pass

Barefooted on the grass

The moon leans on the silvery horn

Above the silhouette of the moon

How is the morn so gay and fair

Without his whistling in the air

The world is calling. I must go.

How shall I know he did not pass

Barefooted in the grass.


Ah mother dear, might I only place

my head on thy breast, a moment to rest

while thy hand on my tearful cheeks were prest

on and on, a moving bridge they made

across the moon stream from shade to shade,

young and old, women and men,

many long forgot, but remember’d them


Good bye !!!! Blessings around you till we meet again.


Padmini’s speech at the 31 st anniversary on 23 June 2016

Dear friends,

I retired on Friday, caught flight on Saturday and spent 21 hours over a flight that takes seven hours. Though the journey was difficult and slow we set foot in Cork. From the customs officer ‘is it that time of the year? ‘— to rental car John who kept a vehicle ready for us— to the young lady at ‘Centra’ who was closing shop but one look at us she decided to bake a pizza for us. I felt a singin’ all the way to Ahakista. The magnificent mountains, the blooming azaleas at the entrance of the monument, the twinkling stars in the serene water— all heightened the sense of homecoming. Agnes had left tea, scones and Quiche for us at the cottage which was warm, delightful, welcoming us the 30 th year of our stay. ‘Blessed by the loving kindness of others’ we fell into a deep slumber knowing that we were home.

Sunrise through the windows woke me up as it flowed through my senses and transformed me with zest, gracefulness and gratefulness. I feel safe, protected, watched over and cared for.

As I meet our friends Agnes and Joe, Angela, Ruth, Bonnie and Patrick, Mary and James, Geraldine, Brenda and Breda, Nuala, Brigitte, magnificient Michael, Timmy, Frank, Kevin and Mary Joe, Siva and Florence and Babu from Newcastle I count them as blessings in our lives and treasure their spontaneity, love and warmth. Since I saw them last, some of them have had setbacks in their health.  I pray for their speedy recovery.

We are reminded that life is so fragile- that in a split of a second it can be bared. The devastation in faraway places, faces expressing shock and numbness unprepared for the events, swells of anger, guns fired, bodies maimed, lost wars, suicide, oppression, refugee camps— portrayed so realistically again by the media— that we cannot escape from their suffering that echoes and re-echoes exposing the gaps in our humaneness. The degree of compassion, humanity, empathy and the entailing commitment and courage needed overwhelms me to tears. I come on a pilgrimage, following our destiny to this unique landscape which has dignity, stillness and silence and an unquivering poise.

I come before you seeking peace I ask to be filled with your presence your love, your tranquillity.  I come on a pilgrimage— seeking Sanjay (vision) and Deepak (light) in every nook and corner of the four elements here— in the smile of a flower, song of a bird, dance of the waves, music in the air that Sanjay embraces me and the hearty laughter of Deepak in the sea. Here Deepak speaks to me. The quest will never cease. For when I think I have found you, you have taken quiet retreat.  Your love was like the dawn brightening our lives. The sound of your voice was music in our ears.

As I grow old and memories and thoughts seem fragile
flickers of guilt rekindle regret
for all that was left unsaid and undone.

There are days when I wake up happy
again inside the fullness of the day
days when I have my heart back
and am able to function well.
Until, in the middle of work or encounter
suddenly with no warning
I am ambushed by grief.

My tears harbour no revenge but ask why? why?
Had I only not put you both on the plane
for letting go is signed in tears mom.
Let the silent tears flow mom
and when your eyes are clear
perhaps you will glimpse
How your eternal child
has become an unseen angel
who paints your heart
and persuades the moon
to shine softly on you
God gives patience, Love gives strength
Love strong as Death, shall conquer Death
Through struggle made more glorious
This mother stills her sobbing breath
Renouncing yet victorious.

Arms, empty of her children, she lifts
with spirit unbereaven
God will not all take back His gifts
My child’s mine in heaven
Still maternal rights serene
not given to another
The crystal bars shine faint between
The souls of child and mother
Meanwhile the mother cries content
Our love was well divided
Its sweetness following where they went
Its anguish stayed where I did.
Sun sets.

I light a lamp here and a new glow Streams across

Hour of peace and silence.

I count my blessings: recognizing enough is enough giving thanks for everything and everyone.

Padmini's speech at Ahakista, Ireland on 23 June 2015
Dear friends,
We have gathered today on the 30th anniversary.
It is hard to believe – that both you and we have borne the yoke- when in a lightning flash our lives were shattered for ever---- and your lives too were touched deeply as you reached out in love and true friendship.
It is hard to believe - that over the last 30 years, year after year, whether we be 5 or 50 or 100 representatives of the families, you have made time and effort to come out and share our grief and healing. Your spontaneous generosity sustained us.
It is hard to believe- that you chose this most beautiful place in the world(just 80 miles away from the crash) that you procured, created and maintained this memorial for us and history.
I came here full of pettiness, burdened with thoughts of the world’s turbulence, troubled by ongoing senseless acts of violence in the world over, saddened by lack of mercy in human hearts, lack of pity in faces, lack of peace and worst of all imprisoned by a sense of helplessness. Once here, I am in the presence of your Celtic wisdom. The mountains are huge and still.The waters carry tears of earth’s joy and sadness---the trees, plants, gardens- this whole landscape speaks to me- with a soul in silent seamingless prayer. As I walk in wonder, every stone and everything is unique and different. I realise what a privilege it is to actually be here.
When things go against you, and the rhythm of life takes you to awkward and lonely places, you can still maintain a stillness, which is your soul. I stand back here and let the mystery- envelop, extend and deepen in me. This is a safe place full of understanding and acceptance, where you can be as you are without the need of any mask, of pretence or image. The very earth we are on is linked to the heaven above. I hear Deepak’s voice from the waters and his voice calms my fears.’ O mom!’ he sighs---his hearty laugh-when I told him of how in his concert( a day before he left) as he played his trumpet, he pushed his friend aside so that his mom could see him better. His laugh banished my tears. ‘Your destination is not yet clear, trust the promise of this rhythm.’
I breathed in and I breathed out. I was alive. To be truly alive means to fully engage in the moment. This moment here, and now, with an open heart filled with compassion and love. We are all human kind, we are sent into each other’s lives to help one another. The past is gone, we have no future, but we have today and the peace I feel when I realize this is a gift .
When people come together an ancient circle closes. They do not come with empty hands but with gifts that awaken a new dimension of healing within love and shine the light of one’s soul on another.
Mareth, my anam cara, taught me so. 
This year, we have more families. We lost Sanjay and Deepak. Ashok and Neena their nephews. Murthy lost his wife Lakshmi and daughter Veena. Prema and Sumant their cousin and their aunt. Kriselle lost her mother when she was only one year old. Her mother was an air hostess. Saroj lost her father and Sunil lost his father-in-law. Hari Shukla, lost his friend Mehta and his entire family. Bruce and Joan Mann from Canada lost their neighbours, the entire Jain family.
With us this year also are our best friends, Sarla and Kris Ramachandra, Shashi from USA, Nisha and`Subhash from UK, Lynne from Canada. Also this year with us, are Gary Bass our dear friend from RCMP and his wife Ruth, precious Mark with his son from UK . Also with us are Ashok and Nina. Ashok was born on Sanjay’s birthday and got married on the same day. They were their most beloved uncle and aunt. Nina is responsible for the concept of these pictures and the decorations. 
We wouldn’t be here standing today without Michael Murphy, Nuala O Donovan, and Agnes Hegarty. John Carey, Breda, Margo, Mary and James Hegartys, Bonnie and Pat, Roshin, Frank O Donovan, Ruth O’Brein for their affection. I miss Mareth, my anam cara but I have Angela. These are, and you all are my blessings, God send. 
I could with stand--- the day when our world collapsed. I could withstand---- the next day the media asking if we would retaliate. I could withstand---- when the Indian Canadians were unacknowledged, forgotten by our government. I could withstand----- when, year after year requests by the families for a public enquiry were turned down. It took 25 years for the Canadian Government to accept it as a Canadian tragedy.
Justice Major’s report was scathing and pointed out the neglect endured at every level, that could have prevented the tragedy. He also was critical of the callous treatment of families. Our Prime Minister apologised and though all the recommendations were not implemented—at the request of families, four similar sundials were built by our government. The families are holding services there now in Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal and Ottawa.Today has been declared an antiterrorist day. The government has setup a Kanishka Research unit to ensure that a tragedy like this will never happen again. Amen.
I cannot accept that the wicked, powerful persons, who the RCMP and journalists etc say that they know who they are, have been scot free unscathed and untouched. The man who made the bomb will be freed having served 15 years now. To this date witnesses were either murdered or manipulated. And no one from the community has ever come forward to right the wrong or claim responsibility.
I cannot accept that my children and all the innocent victims deaths are in vain, as justice has not been served yet. To add insult to the injury, to justify this heinous crime as payback for some grievances in India is very evil.
I cannot accept that the Indian Government, who were made aware of the threat by the intelligence, ignored it, and allowed the Air India to fly from Toronto for the first time.
I cannot accept that Air India did not listen to the threat, and have neglected their crews families, and have not sent any representative for their own crew in 28 years.
I cannot accept that to date, the Indian Government has not acknowledged or admitted to their responsibility . The victims families in India, do not have a place to pay respects to, in India.
I have always seen Deepak in these waters, and felt Sanjay’s spirit in the air. Here is everything that I ever lost. I ask myself, would it wash up if I wait long enough. In three days time, I will come here and wonder--- may be an Irish miracle-- will happen and the tiny figure of Deepak would appear in the horizon across this bay and come to me. The wishful fantasy never gets beyond that. I won’t let it. Even though the tears will roll down my face, I will not sob out of control. I will wait a bit---- a bit longer----- a little bit more----- then turn back to the car, to be driven off to the airport, back to Canada.
Until next year then, I love you all.
Padmini Turlapati
BBC interview
Padmini's speech at Ahakista, Ireland on 23 June 2014
Dear friends,
29 years ago , our journey began with destruction, catapulted us here and begat a destiny that irrevocably entwined our paths and drew us all together. I am completely humbled by the number of incredible people who played a vital role in helping us grow. The deep innate sense of compassion, hospitality and generosity of the Irish for us all is a testament of their humanness and friendship. The creation of this pilgrimage place that I/we can come back to year after year, that permits me to become a mother once again, that allows me to give thanks in prayer is sheer magic.
Mareth my anam cara, Angela, Michael, Agnes, Nualla for your sustenance: Mary, Ruth, Frank and Bonnie for your kindness: children for your inspiration--- how can I ever thank you? Our families Babu Pulle, my classmates and BFF( best friends forever) Nisha and Shashi for your unconditional love and devotion how can I ever thank you? To Gary Bass, Mark, Brenda for your unending friendship how can I ever, ever thank you?
This year it is only Babu my husband and me representing all the families supported by Babu Pulle, Gary, Mark, Nisha and her husband Subhash who have graced the occasion. Murthy who is always here is due for a surgery, Ron Kalsi (who was here till 2008) had cardiac bypass surgery for heart attack sustained when his wife Harbhajan (Jean) died in May could not come here. Jean was always smiling. We families lost Mohan Patel to cancer and a few others send their regrets. But their families and many others will come next year for the 30th anniversary in June 2015.
I am deeply saddened at the loss of Margaret with her smile and the mischievous glint in her eyes: at the loss of Anne O’ Keeffe and her simplicity: at the loss of Breandan O’ Tighearnaigh for his continuous presence and support to all families:at the loss of Harbhajan (Jean) and her fortitude. Joyful memories are all that we have left and they do not die. 
Unable are the loved to die for love is immortality.
Nothing can fill the gap
when we are away from those we love
Having the gap unfulfilled preserves
the bond between us and 
God keeps it empty so that our communication
with another may be kept alive even
at the cost of pain
I keenly anticipated our return. When I heard of the storm that hit west coast of Ireland including Ahakista I was scared…what if…?
Enroute, calmed by the evergreen landscape, warmed by the sun, I learnt a lesson of humility when I saw the wild flowers swaying, wild flowers caressing the earth with blessing. Pulling them up they grow again in unexpected places, on pavements, rooftops, tree stumps- they find a way through. Trampling them down under foot, they find away to blossom and bloom.
At Ahakista, I learnt that the adjacent area, fields and road were all destroyed by the storm. It was a miracle that this memorial site stayed on so said the locals. The garden place looked a little subdued and bare with the burning of the two big trees (planted years ago by my brother and sister) and of shrubs that have since been cleared. I tentatively stepped through the gate and- lo- the Azelias blazed welcome. The monument and plaques were there. Look, look- oh look at my azelias planted 27 years ago (to the astonishment of the horticulturist who said they couldn’t live so into the sea). They have lived through the storm, dried and shrivelled and must have been in pain. Yet in defiance they have bloomed. They knew I was coming with my heart and soul in my eyes. If this is not a miracle and if the pathos does not strike a chord of tenderness deep within I do not know what else will bring tears. I count my blessings and offer thanks.
The sun flows through my senses and transforms me with zest, gracefulness and gratefulness. I feel safe, protected and cared for. I turn to the sea.
The tide was in—waves were coming in soberly and solemnly. I did not recognize Deepak coming to greet me so
“ Have you forgotten me? I asked
“How can I “said he… 
Listen let your heart guide you
It whispers softly, so listen clearly.
The wise composer of the waves allows music to crescendo to reach a climax and then 
a rest,
Listening in silence… I hear music The shape of your soul is unique You have a special destiny here behind the façade of your life there is something beautiful, good, eternal happening.
By facing my tears, expressing my feelings, releasing my energy, feeling my enthusiasm—feeling --just feeling---joy.
The sun set, evening descended and darkness fell. I lit a lamp for Deepak and Sanjay, Setting aside the day. I enter the serenity of the evening.
As I leave for the night-- I stop and look back. I give thanks and ask for forgiveness. I ask for forgiveness and give thanks.
    To see the world in a grain of sand 
    And heaven in a wild flower
    Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
    And eternity in an hour
Have the courage to trust love one more time and mom (Deepak says) always just----just one more time.
Thank you all

Speech by Dr. Padmini Turlapati at Ahakista, Ireland on 23rd June 2013

Dear Friends,

Another year older and deeper in debt in gratitude to you all for coming to share of yourselves even on a Sunday morning as we continue to come representing all families.

I married when I was 28years old in another lifetime, and am today counting the 28th year of the death of my children and others. This year Sirish (two months younger than Deepak to the date, their first cousin) has come with his wife Vera for the first time. I remember to this day when Sirish an eleven year old then, came to me 28 years ago and said “You call me Deepak. I will be Deepak from now on”. I said “No Sirish you remain Sirish and I will see my Deepak in you”.

During my visit to India I went to Sanjay’s tombstone. A beautiful garden has been tended in that small area and his grandparents rest there with him. When I saw my inscription condemning the death of them due to Indian negligence of human life totally erased - maybe it had to be politically correct or whatever correct ----I know how much it hurt. Only this, and none of this can I say because feelings are like the sky seeing nothing in it to see. 

Once the plane touched down, tears welled in my eyes as I saw the Irish soil. All my misgivings and fears evaporated and instead there was a feeling of homecoming of bliss and joy. My world righted itself in a second. I was free to be a mother again and see Deepak.

Sometimes even now, I dream that Deepak was saved and one day he will come walking with you all and say “Hi! Mom. My eyes continue for just that moment, for just that one glimpse. Hope lingers, while reality dawns.

Looking at this garden, blooming with flowers and beautiful scenery a peace steals upon me. The first day was raining, next day dull and windy, third to fifth were sunny, yesterday rainy and today we have had rainbow, sun, rain and wind - you see testy pesty Deepak had come to say “Hi!” after all. That is all I need, a glimpse of eternity.

Sitting here, I look back and wonder how far have I come and grown. Deepak seemed to say “Blessed be the longing that brings you here and quickens your soul with wonder.” As I look on tenderly and silently, motherly tears threaten to flow. I still ask why they had to die. Let go— letting go - is signed in the tears that I weep but no hurt could steal the love my heart keeps.

Be like the silent river mom
Silent in the night
do not be afraid of the dark
If there are stars reflect them back
if there are clouds in the sky
Remember clouds, like the river, are only water
So gladly reflect them too.
Deepak, the flow of your voice 
loosens all pettiness from my skin, 
soft and warm you encircle me 
and whisper into my ear over and over again. 
I am Love and so are you.
As you are I used to be 
As I am you will be. 
My son, a spirit in the wind eases with his talk the solitude in my heart.

Mareth, my anam cara, with her love, smile, compassion witnessed every step I took and faltered. From sadness, to acceptance, to surrender. Her last words to me as she lay dying my hand in hers “I can see you have grown and you will be at peace when you round the corners and dare to dream again”.  Over the years she introduced me to so many wonderful friends.


Michael Murphy is our pillar of strength and rock. Margaret, Agnes, Nuoala are our anchors. Mark Stagg, Gary Bass , Brenda are our devoted  friends. Children and students our inspiration. Starting from the immigration officer “you are back, I remember”, car rental guy “welcome back”, super value “glad to see you again”,  at the library, to Breda who volunteers to make wreaths from her home even though she has now a fulltime job, to Raina at the Deelish Garden centre who gives me a free plant, to Ruth who gives me a hug of welcome,  to Angela , to Mary and James Hegarty , Pat and Bonnie, Agnes and Joe, Michael and Margaret who welcome us to their homes, and to all the rest of you - Love and giving seems to come naturally to and from all of you.

I believe nobody comes here by accident, each of us have been sent for a special destiny. Receiving so much love humbles and flattens my ego. I had fought with God and was angry with Him. I stopped praying while my husband became more religious, disciplined and charitable. I would say “well, he is praying to you and some of that is on my behalf too”. I have since learnt that God has no why but is the why of everything and is everything ‘to be’. Can you all see how he has gently, sternly, patiently stayed with me and sent you all - in my eyes, in the likeness of Him.

Thanks for the opportunity to experience and to continue to learn from Irish Celtic and Christian wisdom, culture and music. I realise now everyone has a temple within and God wants the tiny light to grow bigger and bigger till it comes out and connects with another’s energy. Negative thoughts and attitude makes the light grow smaller but every time we think positive and lovingly reach out it grows larger.

So much turmoil is happening in this world and none of us can remain unaffected and undisturbed but we can become frozen. Much can be done and even though I hear cries for help- I pause- waiting hurts, forgetting hurts, not reaching out hurts but not knowing what decision to make is the worst suffering. Man needs to choose not just to accept his destiny. To that end I admire Ashok, the Babus and Murthy for their courage to act.

When my boat Lord is storm tossed and sinking
When fear in my heart takes control
Say’ be not afraid’ to my spirit
And your answer will calm my soul
When I flounder in deep waters
When the stresses of life take their toll
A sudden deep hush steal upon me 
Your gentleness calms my soul
When my life seems full of confusion
And I have lost sight of the goal
As I stumble about in darkness
May your gentle light calm the soul
I often live life on the surface
Sometimes I am playing a role
Help me cherish my own inner beauty
May your tender love calm my soul
When I struggle with sickness and sorrow
And eagerly long to be whole
I call your name to bring healing
And the touch of your hand calms the soul

Let us all think of Anne O’Keefe who I understand is very ill. When all of us pray for her recovery and also for all those who are suffering from loss and sickness at this pilgrimage spot (there was a monastery here before they moved away) this sacred ground, our prayers will be answered. 

Peace be with you.




Submit Your Message

Thank you for submitting your Message to the Remembrance Garden Page.
Your Message will be reviewed within 24 hours.
You will receive an email notification once the Message is published.

Submit Your Message

Select Virtual Flowers


Two very talented handsome boys will be missed forever. Now we pray for peace for their souls.

[By :Ravi/Shashi Sharma  ]

May they rest in peace and god bless them

[By :Krishna  Dave  ]

May they rest in peace and be remembered in our prayers

[By :Frank & Angela O'Donovan  ]

We and our children knew Sanjay and Deepak for several years while we were in Nigeria . Our children played with them during our visits or when they were visiting us. We and our children miss them very much. May their young souls rest in peace.

[By :Kris and Sarla Ramachandra  ]

From Kumar Lakshmi Vajjhala...
Son of Rama Rao Vajjhala (Who worked for Telco at Kano from 1979 - 1984)

Childhood friends......
I remember when i came to Kaduna along with my parents and could not play cops and robbers properly

Deepak to Sanjay.... This Boy (Myself) Does not even though how to play any game......

Deepak was more aggressive / outgoing / quick-witted while Sanjay was more calm
Also remember the time when Sanjay left from Kano to join a school in India 

My Regards to my childhood friends... God be with them.

[By :Kumar Vajjhala  ]

I had the good fortune to visit the site of the memorial in Ireland in April of 2006.  While there I left a pebble from Woburn and Woburn Junior on the memorial sundial.

[By :Terry Flahiff  ]

Sanjay and Deepak were my cousins...although I was still young when this heinous crime occurred and they were taken from us at their young age, I remember fondly the times when we used to all play together as children. While I miss them dearly, I am confident that they are at peace and looking lovingly down on us knowing that no one can ever remove them from our hearts and our memories.

[By :Nishant Rao  ]

Beautiful souls who were snatched away from us too soon. While this deep void will never be filled, we will continue to fill it with love, prayers, and hope. The disaster showed the worst of humanity, but also the best of humanity (our several friends and well-wishers in Ireland, Canada, India).

[By :Nikhil/Lavina Rao  ]