Coalition of Hindus of North America
Marking 40 years since Canada’s deadliest terror attack
For forty years, we have carried their names. For forty years, we have held space for the 329 who were stolen from us on June 23, 1985 by Khalistani bombers. In Hindu tradition, we offer these ancient words—Om Shanti—as both prayer and promise; in the hope that those we lost ultimately found the peace that was denied to them in their final moments.
This sacred remembrance marks not just their deaths but honours the fullness of their lives. We remember the children who will never grow old, the parents who never returned home, and their hopes and dreams that were shattered, mid-flight, over the Atlantic.
In our tradition, the departed live on in our devotion to them. And so, through the voices of the bereaved, the quiet of memorials, the pages of books, and the testimony of time—we remember.

The bombing of Air India 182 was Babbar Khalsa's signature atrocity — what 9/11 was to Al Qaeda, what Munich was to Black September. Both became household names, and around the world, people came to understand, with terrible clarity, what those movements were capable of. But Babbar Khalsa's bomb was absorbed into public memory—where it was absorbed at all—primarily as a tragedy that befell one ethnic immigrant community. It was not really seen as a demonstration of the potential of a violent extremist movement that had been conceived, planned, and nurtured on Canadian soil. And the consequences of that misreading are visible today: Canadians see Khalistani extremism as a "foreign conflict" while Khalistani extremists continue to intimidate moderate voices, radicalize younger generations, and make their presence felt on the streets of Brampton and Vancouver.

Where can you slaughter hundreds of people and get away with it? Only in Canada, where authorities bungled the chance to stop an obvious plot to bomb Air India Flight 182 and then failed to bring a single one of the brazen terrorists to justice. It was the most preventable horror in our history, and we seem eager to forget it ever happened — even as more violence brews from the extremists behind the worst Canadian terrorist attack ever.

There’s a photo that Mahesh Sharma, an educator and philanthropist from Montreal, has carried with him for 40 years. It’s the last picture of his family—his wife Uma, daughters Sandhya and Swati, and his mother-in-law—taken at Mirabel airport before they boarded Air India Flight 182 on the night of June 22, 1985. He was supposed to be on that plane too. But work held him back.

If you’re Canadian, you likely remember exactly where you were on September 11, 2001. You probably recall how you felt as tragedy unfolded across the border, in New York City, shaking our collective sense of security and solidarity. But do you remember June 23, 1985? On that Sunday morning, 40 years ago, 329 innocent people—most of them Canadian citizens, including 82 children—were murdered when Khalistani terrorists bombed Air India Flight 182 off the coast of Ireland. This detail, found in declassified documents, highlights how the tragedy was initially framed. Despite the fact that most victims were Canadian citizens, the bombing was largely treated as an Indian matter.

On June 23, 1985, Khalistani extremists detonated a bomb aboard Air India Flight 182 off the coast of Ireland, killing 329 people—280 of them were Canadian citizens. But this wasn’t just a terrorist attack that happened to involve Canadians. Khalistani militants conceived, planned, and executed this mass murder on Canadian soil. Yet, Canada still struggles to own this tragedy or the institutional lapses and socio-political failures that made it possible. This detail, found in declassified documents, highlights how the tragedy was initially framed. Despite the fact that most victims were Canadian citizens, the bombing was largely treated as an Indian matter.

When Khalistani extremists bombed Air India Flight 182 on June 23, 1985, killing 329 people including 268 Canadians, one of Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's first calls was—not to the families of the victims—but to his Indian counterpart Rajiv Gandhi. Prime Minister Mulroney's call to Prime Minister Gandhi to condole India’s loss may seem odd in hindsight, but at the time it reflected the broader Canadian sentiment that, “this was someone else’s problem”. Indeed, even today, younger Canadians know next to nothing about the tragedy

When Air India Flight 182 exploded mid-air on June 23, 1985, it sent 329 lives plunging into the Atlantic Ocean. In the hours that followed, a vast and urgent recovery operation unfolded—mobilizing ships, aircraft, paramedics, and rescue personnel from multiple countries. It was an atrocity planned in Canada, but its full horror played out in the waters off the Irish coast.The images and memories from those first hours and days—remain etched in the minds of those who answered the call.

On the same day that Air India Flight 182 was destroyed over the Atlantic Ocean, a separate bomb blast at Tokyo’s Narita Airport killed two Japanese baggage handlers—Hideo Asano and Hideharu Koda—and injured four others. These victims, whose names and stories have largely faded from public memory, represent a crucial but often overlooked dimension of the Khalistani attacks of June 23, 1985. The Narita bombing was not a separate incident but part of a coordinated terrorist operation. The bomb had originated in Canada on a Canadian Pacific Airlines flight and was being transferred to Air India Flight 301, which was bound for Delhi via Bangkok

On the morning of June 23, 1985, as Air India 182 was cruising along the Irish coast, there were no indications of the tragedy about to unfold. There was no Mayday call—not even a distress signal. “One second it was there, and the next it had gone,” an air traffic controller later recalled. “It was like suddenly losing a telephone line.” At 7:14 a.m. GMT, the aircraft vanished from radar. All attempts to contact the plane—scheduled to land at London Heathrow an hour and 40 minutes later—failed.

Years before the bombing of Air India Flight 182, veteran broadcaster Jack Webster was already raising the alarm about Khalistani extremism in Canada. These two interviews—from 1981 and 1985—offer a rare, unfiltered look at how extremist ideology took root, how it polarized communities, and how Canadian institutions failed to act.

Blood for Blood is a wake-up call for Canada. This meticulously researched and powerfully written exposé documents the rise, evolution, and international entrenchment of the Khalistani movement. This violent separatist campaign has claimed thousands of lives till date and continues to endanger the social fabric of not just Canada but other countries such as the US, the UK, and Australia where it has made its presence felt.

"Loss of Faith: How Air India Bombers Got Away With Murder by Kim Bolan (McClelland & Stewart, 2005)" is a damning chronicle of an unforgivable betrayal—the systematic failures of Canadian intelligence, law enforcement, political leadership, and the judiciary—failures that allowed unrepentant terrorists to escape justice while condemning hundreds of grieving families to a lifetime of unanswered questions, writes Jay Mehta.