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Flight engineer instructor Dhun Daruwala taught most of the pilots who joined Airlanka to fly the Tristars. These fledglings went on to command big jet aeroplanes on widespread international routes. This is a remembrance of appreciation and gratitude; a recollection of times gone by lest they be forgotten.

Daruwala entered the world of aviation the hard way. He was an apprentice mechanic in Air India, baptized by the grease and spanner brigade. From there he went on to work on DC-3s and Pratt and Whitney engines as a ground engineer. He was selected to be trained as a flight engineer in the fleet of Lockheed Constellations that Air India had purchased. He then went on to become a management instructor.

He left Air India to join Singapore Airlines (SIA), the Valhalla of all aircrew, in the 1970s where he made a name as a professional among the vast number of pilots and engineers who flew the "yellow bird” tailed jets of SIA. The expatriate community in the airline was massive, maybe 60 nationalities. Daruwala was a star among them.

He left Singapore to seek a smaller pasture. It was in early 1980 that he arrived in Sri Lanka to join the fledgling airline, Airlanka. By that time Daruwala was a veteran, having flown various types of passenger turbo props and jets. I distinctly remember him flying the Airlanka 707 when the new airline had just two aircraft in its fleet. It was also the beginning of my life-long friendship with him and his family, wife Maja, children Raoul and Jehan (Manekshaw).

Airlanka was emerging on the international aviation scene, and there was a whole line of young aviators joining the company to fly the big jets. Most of them came straight from flying school and needed to be shaped and injected with the essence of being competent crew members. That was Dhun’s job. He probably trained every fresh recruit to fly the third pilot seat on Lockheed Tristars.

Most of these young pilots went on to command international flights and successfully navigated their careers. They became contented retirees! Bar none, they would all remember "Dhun, the Grand Master,” who set them on the right path in their aviation "Montessori” days.

From 1980 onwards Airlanka expanded rapidly, adding Lockheed Tristars as the main component of the company’s fleet. Crew recruitment was constant and young local pilots with the basic qualification of a Commercial Pilot’s License (CPL) were recruited. Most had flown only light aircraft such as Cessnas and Pipers. Training them from this stage to be professional operators on Lockheed Tristars was no mean feat.

  

I have flown in the front seats when Dhun was training new recruits. I have never heard him raise his voice or use sarcasm to ridicule a student. Such sterling qualities as his were not common in a cockpit.

Whenever former Airlanka people gathered and reminisced about the days and events gone by, they never failed to mention the name "Dhun Daruwala” with awe and gratitude. His sense of humor was perpetual and original. He often used to cite Hindi phrases and I will never forget his "Jab khuda déta hai, tau chhapar phaar ké déta hai (When God gives, he gives generously).” 

I never had the privilege of being his student but was a fellow crew member on many occasions over the years. For my last flight with Airlanka I requested crew scheduling to roster the Grand Master as my flight engineer and we flew to Singapore and back. The final flight flown by a captain in any airline is filled with nostalgia. That is when the heart strings tighten and tears brim over. At such times you need someone special to share your flight deck.

As the world aged, we each followed our own path to stride under different stars. Dhun settled in New Delhi. Whenever I had a layover in Delhi, I never failed to visit the Grand Master. He lived well. Maja was busy fighting battles for righteousness, Raoul was well settled in New York and Jehan was in Delhi holding the fort.

Our reunions were always enjoyable. Of course, the conversation was mostly about the aeroplanes we had flown and the people who shared the cockpit with us. Then we talked about the ones who had departed, with sad reverence. The time just flew at Barber Pole speed (maximum operating speed in aviation). That is what happens when dear old friends meet. The interaction was delightful, yet, if truth be told, there was a smidgen of sorrow because we both missed flying together.

Dhun passed away on December 29, 2024, three days short of his 100th year. It is only at sunset that we know how meaningful the day had been. He breathed his last surrounded by family and loved ones. A winner to the very end.