It’s a funny thing, flying around India these days. You can have two completely different experiences in the span of a single trip, a kind of aviation whiplash. One week, you’re gliding through Mumbai’s T2, and you can’t help but be impressed. It’s a genuinely world-class space—the art, the buzz, the sheer efficiency of it all makes you feel like you’ve arrived in the future. Then, a few days later, you find yourself in another airport, let’s say Chennai, and it feels like you’ve stepped back in time. The lighting is dim, the floors look tired, and you’re navigating what online reviewers have called "literally the worst airport ever."
This isn’t just a random observation; it’s the central story of Indian aviation right now. It's a tale of two universes existing side-by-side. On one hand, there's this incredible, ambitious vision for the future. On the other, a frustrating reality that millions of us have to deal with. The Airports Authority of India (AAI) is at the heart of this storm, overseeing a massive, nation-building-level expansion. But the big question, the one I ask myself every time I book a flight, is whether this breakneck growth is actually making things better for us, the passengers, or if we’re just getting lost in the shuffle of a giant infrastructure project.
A Building Spree of Epic Proportions
Look, you can’t say they’re not busy. The last year and a half has been an absolute blitz of construction. It feels like the AAI and the Ministry of Civil Aviation are playing a real-life game of SimCity, trying to redraw the entire country's aviation map.
I mean, just look at a single day: March 10, 2024. On that one day, they inaugurated 12 new terminal buildings all at once. Twelve! We’re talking about places like Pune, Gwalior, Jabalpur, and a whole bunch in Uttar Pradesh—Aligarh, Azamgarh, you name it. Suddenly, UP has more than 10 operational airports, which is wild when you think about it. It’s all part of this massive bet that "if you build it, they will come."
But will they? That’s the multi-crore question. I see a new airport announced for a place like Aligarh and I can't help but be a bit skeptical. It's only 90 km from Agra's airport and 160 km from Delhi's mega-hub. You see people online predicting it won't last a month, and you wonder if they have a point. It's not just cynicism; we've seen this movie before. Remember the Kushinagar International Airport? Built to serve pilgrims and a large migrant worker population, but it has struggled with almost no traffic, with flights constantly getting suspended. It’s a tough balance between the political win of opening a new airport and the long-term economics of actually keeping it running. The last thing anyone wants is a network of shiny, underused "ghost airports."
The Great Divide: Why Your Airport Experience is a Roll of the Dice
This is where it gets personal for travelers. The difference in quality between the airports run by private companies and many of those still directly under AAI management is not just in your head—it’s palpable.
Honestly, it’s become a deciding factor in how I plan some trips. The privately run hubs are just… better. People on forums rave about Mumbai's T2 being "absolutely based" or the new Goa airport having "actual thought made in design." Bengaluru and Hyderabad are seen as solid, high-level airports that are clean and just work. They’ve set the standard.
And then there's the other side of the coin. The AAI-managed airports often get torn apart in reviews. Chennai is constantly lambasted for being dated and unclean, and Kolkata’s gets dismissed as "yuck." This isn't just travelers being picky; it has real policy consequences. The consistent praise for the private airports creates a perfect justification for the government's big push to privatize more of them through the National Monetisation Pipeline (NMP). It's a clever dynamic, when you think about it. The perceived failures of the public sector directly fuel the expansion of the private sector. Every bad experience a passenger has at an AAI facility becomes another unofficial reason to lease it out to a private operator. It’s a self-reinforcing cycle.
On the other hand, you have this issue of monopolies forming. The Adani Group snapping up six airports in one go and also taking over Mumbai and the upcoming Navi Mumbai airport has raised some serious eyebrows, even within the government. Soon, one company will control all the air traffic in a massive area like the Mumbai Metropolitan Region, and I'm not entirely sure that’s a good thing for competition or for us passengers in the long run.
Good Idea on Paper, But is the Plane Actually Taking Off?
Of all the AAI's projects, the UDAN scheme is the one you really want to root for. The idea of "Ude Desh ka Aam Naagrik"—getting the common citizen to fly—is fantastic. It’s about connecting smaller, underserved towns and making air travel affordable for everyone, not just people in the big metros. The official reports paint a rosy picture: 625 routes launched, 90 airports connected, over a crore passengers flown.
But then you dig a little deeper, and the reality seems a lot more turbulent. A CAG audit from 2023 found that the scheme is basically limping along. It revealed that only about 23% of the routes they awarded were even operational. Even worse, a shocking 74% of the airlines that won the bids to fly these routes have already quit the program. Many of the routes that did start have already shut down.
I remember trying to piece together a trip through some of these smaller towns and the process was a mess. There's no single, easy-to-use website to book UDAN flights, which seems like a huge oversight if you're trying to get the "aam aadmi" on board. The problem seems to be the model itself. The government gives airlines a subsidy for three years to make the routes viable, but for many of them, there just isn't enough year-round demand. Once the subsidy runs out, the airline pulls out. It's like pouring water into a leaky bucket.
It's not all bad news, of course. Some routes, like the one between Belagavi and Mumbai, became so popular they survived even after the subsidy ended. But for every success, there's a story like the Ghaziabad-Ludhiana route, which you’d think would be a hit between two industrial towns, but it had terrible turnout. It shows a disconnect between planning in an office and the reality of how people actually travel.
That Shiny New Terminal Feeling (and its Problems)
The recent saga with Pune's new terminal is basically the entire AAI story in a nutshell. Everyone agreed the old airport was bursting at the seams and a new one was desperately needed. And on the surface, the new terminal is impressive—it’s big, modern, has 10 aerobridges, and is full of local cultural design touches. A great piece of hardware.
But the software? That’s another story. The terminal was inaugurated by the Prime Minister way back in March 2024, but it just sat there, unopened, for over four months until mid-July. When it finally did open, it was chaotic. Only a couple of airlines moved at first, leading to massive confusion, with passengers showing up at the wrong terminal. The very first flight was delayed by an hour. And almost immediately, people started complaining about waiting up to 55 minutes for their bags to show up on the carousels. Imagine a wait time that's nearly as long as your flight!
It proves that building a world-class building isn't the same as running a world-class operation. AAI is clearly good at the construction part, but the nitty-gritty of passenger communication, baggage handling, and seamless logistics often feels like an afterthought.
So, Where Are We Actually Headed?
Flying in India right now feels poised between a grand vision and a frustrating mirage. The ambition is undeniable, and you can see the physical progress everywhere. They’re building at a pace that’s hard to comprehend.
But the system is showing cracks. You’ve got this tension between building new airports and whether they're actually needed, a social connectivity scheme that's struggling financially, and a passenger experience that’s wildly inconsistent. There’s hope on the horizon, though. A new law, the Bharatiya Vayuyan Adhiniyam, 2024, just came into force, replacing a colonial-era act from 1934. It's a sign that maybe, just maybe, there's a recognition that you need to upgrade the legal and regulatory "software," not just the physical "hardware."
Ultimately, for those of us who depend on this network for work, for family, for exploring the incredible diversity of our cities, the future is still uncertain. Is this massive, chaotic, and contradictory transformation going to create a resilient, passenger-focused system, or is it all just expanding too fast? For now, the answer is still very much up in the air.