A single mother in Delhi says her son’s last casual promise that he would be home soon now echoes louder than any siren. Her 23-year-old, Sahil Dhaneshra, never made it back, killed on a routine ride that turned into a roadside nightmare. For her, and for another mother thousands of miles away who still hears her own boy saying “Don’t worry, mum,” those final words have become a loop that grief refuses to pause.
Both women are trying to live in a world that kept moving after the cameras switched off and the headlines moved on. Their stories sit at the uncomfortable intersection of everyday life, social media, and roads that can turn deadly in a heartbeat.
The night Sahil did not come home
Earlier this month in Dwarka, Delhi, 23-year-old BBA student Sahil Dhaneshra set out on his motorcycle as he had done countless times before. Near Lal Bahadur Shastri College in Dwarka Sector 11, his journey ended with severe head injuries after his bike was hit, and his mother, Inna Makan, suddenly found herself identifying the body of the only child she had raised for 23 years as a single parent. The ordinary details of that evening, the college landmark, the familiar sector roads, now exist for her only as coordinates of loss, fixed in place on the day everything split into a before and an after.
Inna has said that her son’s final words were simple and reassuring, the kind of everyday promise any young adult tosses over a shoulder on the way out the door. Those words now replay in her mind against the hard fact that, on February 3, he died near Lal Bahadur Shastri in Dwarka Sector 11 after his motorcycle was hit and he suffered those fatal head injuries. For her, the memory of that short exchange has become a kind of private evidence that he was not reckless, that he fully expected to come back, and that someone else’s choices on the road stole that future.
‘Fun reels’ and a mother’s anger in Dwarka
What happened in Dwarka, Delhi, has also become part of a wider argument about what follows when cars, phones, and the chase for viral clips collide. Earlier in February, 22-year-old Sahil Dhaneshra lost his life after being fatally struck in a crash that his family believes was linked to a so-called fun video being filmed in the area. The collision in Dwarka has been described as a tragic road accident that spiralled into national outrage once it became clear that a young man was dead and that social media content may have been part of the story.
Inna has been blunt about what she thinks cost her son his life. She has said that her boy died because someone wanted a fun reel, a phrase that lands like an accusation against a culture that treats busy roads as backdrops. Her anger sharpened when the accused teen driver in the Dwarka crash received bail within a week, even as she continued to seek justice for the 23-year-old BBA student she had raised alone. In her telling, shared in accounts of the Dwarka crash, her son’s death sits directly on the line between a teenager’s entertainment and a mother’s permanent loss.
The story has spread well beyond local police files, amplified by clips and posts that show how a roadside stunt can end in disaster. A widely shared Instagram reel about the Dwarka accident describes how 22-year-old Sahil Dhaneshra was fatally struck and how the crash in Dwarka, Delhi, has turned into a national talking point. Behind every share and comment is a mother who now measures time by the moment she last heard her son’s voice, and who wants those who treat busy streets as stages for content to see the human cost.
Another mother, another roadside goodbye
Far from Dwarka, a different mother has been describing her own version of that final conversation. Her son was walking near a road when he was hit and killed, and she has since spoken about the last time they spoke. She remembers telling him to take care, to be safe, and he replied with the kind of breezy confidence that young adults often use to reassure worried parents. His words, “Don’t worry, mum,” now sit in her memory as both comfort and torment, because she did worry, and because those were the last words she ever heard him say.
Her account, shared in a detailed report, mirrors Inna’s in one quiet way. Both women are haunted less by the impact itself and more by the ordinary little exchanges that came just before it. The UK mother has repeated that short phrase again and again, as if replaying it might somehow change what happened on the road a few minutes later. For her, the crash did not only take a son, it also froze a single sentence in time, a line she cannot move past or forget.
More from Decluttering Mom: