Air India was more than just an airline. It represented India’s emergence on the global stage, embodying service with civility and a nation confident enough to showcase its identity in the skies. For decades, the Maharaja symbolized warmth, reliability, and professional pride.
The Maharaja has now been officially phased out as part of Air India’s rebranding and modernization effort. This decision itself is not objectionable. Brands need to evolve, and legacy imagery cannot replace competitiveness.
What is objectionable, however, is the implicit assumption that a change in appearance can make up for a decline in service quality. For example, inconsistent on-time performance, unresponsive customer service, or baggage mishandling show that visual renewal does not justify operational shortcomings. If anything, removing a legacy symbol increases the airline’s responsibility to demonstrate through performance, predictability, and respect for passengers that the values the Maharaja once stood for are still upheld in practice, not just in memory.
The author frequently flies with Air India and keeps choosing the national airline despite repeated disappointments. This decision isn’t motivated by necessity but by hope that Air India can regain its position among the world’s leading full-service airlines.
Indian passengers are willing to pay for quality, reliability, and professionalism that meet global standards. What they refuse to accept is randomness, lack of transparency, and the loss of dignity. Therefore, what follows should be seen as tough love—a demand for a national institution to uphold its promise.
A Legacy Burdened by History, Not Excused by It
Air India’s decline did not start with privatisation. Years of political meddling, bureaucratic sluggishness, and scattered accountability had already weakened the airline. The Tata Group inherited a fundamentally damaged organisation, but also something rare: public goodwill and hope that professional management would bring cultural and operational improvements.
That expectation has only been partly fulfilled. Although there are clear improvements in branding, intent, and fleet planning, the passenger experience still suffers from unpredictability and inconsistency. The risk is not failure; it’s normalisation, where poor service becomes accepted as usual.
The aircraft interiors have been updated and significantly improved; however, the flight entertainment systems and seats are in an auto-recline mode. The seat size in economy class could be made more comfortable and more ergonomic for long-haul flights, but both factors are ignored by Air India management.
Human Capital Flight as a Governance Indicator
The steady migration of Indian pilots, engineers, and cabin crew to carriers such as Emirates and Qatar Airways is not just a labour issue; it also signals the quality of governance. These airlines attract Indian professionals through transparent rostering, predictable duty cycles, and respect for their professional time.
Air India does not lack capable people. What it lacks is institutional trust. Rebuilding trust requires systemic discipline and accountability, not just liveries changes or marketing campaigns, to inspire confidence in the airline’s future.
Predictability Is the Foundation of Passenger Trust
Few experiences undermine confidence more than arbitrary schedule changes. Tickets booked months in advance and paid for in full should not be altered without proactive communication and explanation. Discovering changes barely a week before travel, often through the airline’s app rather than direct notification, creates avoidable stress and resentment.
Escalation offers little solution. Passengers face a binary choice: accept the change or cancel for a refund. This is not customer-focused problem solving; it is procedural convenience. Matters worsen when previously agreed baggage entitlements are reduced on reissued tickets, forcing passengers to pay again for allowances they already purchased. In mature aviation jurisdictions, such unilateral contract modifications would draw regulatory scrutiny. In India, it largely goes unchecked.
Infrastructure Without Empathy Is Not World-Class
Delhi’s Terminal 3 is frequently cited as evidence of India’s aviation modernity. Yet the passenger journey tells a different story. International travellers disembark only to walk back, often long distances, with heavy luggage to distant check-in counters. Frontline staff perform admirably, but poor layout design negates their efforts.
Repeated security checks further worsen the experience after check-in, immigration, and again at the departure gate. Security is essential, but unnecessary repetition without reason frustrates passengers and damages trust in the system.
Operational Decisions Demand Transparency
Long-haul flights from India to North America routinely halt at Vienna for refuelling, keeping passengers strapped to their seats for extended periods. While there may be legitimate technical or commercial reasons, such as fuel load, payload constraints, or crew duty limits, the lack of clear communication fuels suspicion and dissatisfaction, undermining trust in the airline’s honesty. This halt does not take place on the return journey and therefore is questionable. Passengers do not demand perfection. They demand honesty.
The Strategic Identity Crisis: Low-Cost in Denial or Full-Service by Design
Air India must confront a fundamental question: is it a low-cost carrier in denial, or a genuine full-service airline? Attempting to straddle both models delivers the disadvantages of each premium pricing without corresponding service assurance.
Indian passengers are not unwilling to pay. They are willing to pay for value. What they reject is being asked to subsidise inefficiency, opacity, and inconsistent delivery.
Rebranding, Privatisation, and the Accountability Gap
Air India’s rebranding and privatisation were meant to signal renewal. They must not become shields against scrutiny. Private ownership does not dilute public responsibility when an airline carries national identity, enjoys preferential access to routes and infrastructure, and operates within a tightly regulated environment.
Rebranding without governance reform risks becoming cosmetic modernisation. Logos and liveries cannot compensate for weak accountability. Enforceable passenger-rights frameworks must therefore accompany privatisation, mandatory transparency on operational trade-offs, and regulatory independence insulated from both political and corporate pressures.
In global aviation, credibility is not built on symbolism. It is built on predictability, respect, and consequences for failure.
Regulatory Oversight: The Missing Anchor
Recent disruptions across Indian aviation, including the IndiGo episode, highlight a systemic regulatory deficit. The Ministry of Civil Aviation and the DGCA appear reactive rather than preventive, reluctant to enforce passenger-centric norms with consistency.
Regulators exist to protect citizens, not to normalise inconvenience. Compensation frameworks, grievance redressal mechanisms, and service standards must move from advisory language to enforceable practice.
Why This Matters Beyond Aviation
As a military veteran, the author views morale, predictability, and accountability as operational imperatives. Institutions function on trust. When citizens experience disregard in routine civil systems, confidence in governance erodes incrementally but decisively.
Air India carries symbolic weight. Its success would signal institutional renewal; its stagnation signals tolerance of mediocrity.
Conclusion: The Maharaja’s Image May Be Gone—His Values Must Not Be
Retiring the Maharaja symbol may modernise Air India’s appearance, but it does not absolve the airline or the state of its duty to deliver dignity, reliability, and respect. Pride in national institutions cannot be demanded; it must be earned daily through conduct.
This is not a call for nostalgia. It is a call for accountability. Indian citizens are willing to pay for world-class service. What they ask in return is fairness, transparency, and respect. Indian aviation will command global confidence only when it first learns to respect its own people.