Talmach is a small, scenic village/hamlet located near the historic town of Junnar in the Pune district. (Express Photo By Pavan Khengre)
Tucked inside the dense forested hills of Junnar taluka, about 125 kilometres from Pune, lies Talmachiwadi – a small hamlet in Nimgiri village where wide roads still don’t exist, water supply remains a persistent problem, and mobile connectivity is an issue. For decades, the rest of the country barely knew this place existed.
But on the night of July 7, 1962, something happened on the slopes of Davandyachi Hill that would, over sixty years later, give this remote tribal settlement an unlikely identity – and a slow trickle of curious tourists.
That night, Alitalia Flight AZ-771 – a brand-new Douglas DC-8 jet travelling from Bangkok to Bombay – flew into the hill and killed all 94 people on board.
According to the report of the Court of Inquiry dated February 20, 1963, released by the Department of Communications and Civil Aviation, Ministry of Transport and Communications,
Dnyaneshwar Sable, a retired PMPML bus conductor and Talmachi villager is showing the Daundya hills, where a plane crashed on 7 July 1962. (Express Photo By Pavan Khengre)
The aircraft departed Bangkok for Bombay on July 6 at 3:16 pm GMT, carrying 9 crew and 85 passengers.
Everything about the departure appeared routine. The plane – registered and constructed only months earlier in 1962 – had logged just 964 hours and 34 minutes of flying time and held valid Certificates of Registration and Airworthiness.
The last leg of the flight, from Aurangabad towards Bombay, is where things started to unravel.
At 6:20 pm, the aircraft requested clearance to begin its descent over Aurangabad, down to Flight Level 200. This was approved. At 6:24 pm, the aircraft reported leaving Flight Level 350 and descending toward 200. At 6:25 pm, it was further cleared down to 4,000 feet with an altimeter setting. Everything, to the air traffic controller at Bombay Approach, appeared normal.
Waman Sable (age 81) and his wife Taibai Sable of Talmachi village have preserved an actual metal sheet fragment from the Alitalia Flight 771 crash wreckage for over 63 years. (Express Photo By Pavan Khengre)
Then came the exchange before arriving in Mumbai. At 6:38 pm, controllers asked the aircraft whether it intended to make a 360-degree turn over the outer marker beacon (a navigational landmark used during landing approaches) or come in straight for the landing. At 6:38:54 pm, the aircraft’s reply was unclear.
Finally, at 6:39 pm, the aircraft confirmed: it would make a 360-degree turn over the outer marker for Runway 27, then proceed inbound. At 6:39:58 pm, came the last words from the aircraft: ‘Roger, will do, Alitalia seven seven one.’ Failing to establish further communication with the aircraft, search and rescue was initiated. The wreckage of AZ-771 was eventually found on Davandyachi Hill.
The investigation that followed was extensive. The Court of Inquiry concluded that the pilot believed he was closer to Bombay than he actually was, and as a result, commenced his descent prematurely.
The villagers of Talmachi found a cylinder from the wreckage of the Alitalia Flight 771 crash where the plane struck Davandyachi Hill (Daundya Dongar) and preserved it.That cylinder, recovered from the 1962 crash site, was repurposed and has been used as the school bell in the local village school of Talmachi. (Express Photo By Pavan Khengre)
Back in Talmachiwadi, there are no official plaques, no memorial walls, no heritage markers. But the memory lives on in unexpected places.
Waman Sable, now 81 years old, still has a piece of the aircraft’s outer body propped against his home. He has been offered money for the fragment he keeps at home, but he refuses to give it away. “Some tourists have asked and said they will pay lakhs of rupees for it. But I will not give this to anybody. It has become a rare possession, a memory of that event.”
The village school tells its own story. Kisan Sable, another villager, points out that the ZP primary school in Talmachiwadi still uses an oxygen cylinder recovered from the crashed aircraft as its school bell – rung every morning for the children of a village.
Sudam Sable, 76, from neighbouring Nimgiri village, remembers the aftermath clearly. The police and SRPF officials set up a base camp at Nimgiri for nearly a month. “The major challenge was connectivity and logistics. There were no mobile phones, no medical facilities, no means of transport. The hills were covered in dense fog. It took several weeks to investigate and clear the site.”
Rambhau Tukaram Bhalerao, who was about 18 years old at the time, helped officials physically carry wreckage down from the hilltop. “It was heartbreaking – no one had survived. We carried the remains on our backs down to the base, and from there, bullock carts took everything to the camp.”
Kiran Sable, 32, runs a YouTube and Instagram channel from the village – and uses it to share the stories that the elderly still carry. The crash, he says, has slowly become a draw. “Tourists now come to our village to see the crash spot as part of their adventure treks. A small tribal village that still doesn’t have an adequate water supply and essential facilities has got an identity because of it. We are becoming known.”