KEY POINTS
- DG ISPR presented evidence to the world proving Pakistan’s innocence in the Pahalgam attack, India responded with silence.
- Indian media continues to portray every incident as a Bollywood-style ISI plot.
- Satire and sarcasm from Pakistanis online have become a thorn in India’s narrative machinery.
- Former RAW chief admitted the Pahalgam attack was a domestic intelligence failure.
- Despite Modi’s war cries, seasoned Indian experts advocate diplomacy over destruction.
Whenever a mosquito is swatted somewhere, India immediately accuses Pakistan as if even insects need ISI clearance to fly. The recent tragedy in Pahalgam that claimed the lives of 26 tourists has once again seen India don its favourite hat: the blamer-in-chief.
Without investigation, evidence, or introspection, the fingers pointed west. Indian newsrooms turned into film sets, with anchors screaming as though they were avenging a blockbuster cliffhanger.
One would think India has achieved nirvana over the Kashmir dispute the way their journalists perform chest-thumping theatrics. But behind this jingoistic display lies a narrative so broken, it limps on slogans, spins on conspiracies, and crashes into Pakistan like a drunk actor in a war drama.
And yet, amid this noise, when DG ISPR calmly presented undeniable, documented evidence proving Pakistan’s non-involvement, India so loud just a moment before fell into complete silence. Should we then take India’s quietness as a whispered “yes”?
India’s international credibility is now like a toothpaste tube squeezed from the middle messy, distorted, and leaking inconsistencies. Canada has accused Indian intelligence of plotting assassinations.
The UK watches warily as Indian agents parade as diplomats. Even the U.S. once a Modi admirer has labeled India’s overreach a strategic liability. In this climate of suspicion, it is laughable that India continues to sell the narrative of a hyper-competent RAW unearthing Pakistani plots before they unfold.
If RAW is truly omniscient, one wonders how Pahalgam happened at all. But let’s not ask logical questions they tend to disrupt the rhythm of Indian media’s choreographed outrage. Instead, we see reporters citing “sources” (read: WhatsApp forwards), crafting tales where every grain of sand in Kashmir is an ISI sleeper cell, and every cloud is shaped like a Pakistani drone.
Perhaps it is time India installs mirrors in its newsrooms not to check their makeup, but to confront their reflection. Former RAW chief Amarjit Singh Dulat recently acknowledged what no prime-time Indian anchor dared to: the Pahalgam tragedy was a security and intelligence failure, not a Pakistani plot.
In his sober interview with BBC Hindi, he urged restraint, diplomacy, and strategic calm. “War is the worst option,” he said. But back in Delhi, Modi’s team responded not with logic, but with hyperbole.
“We will chase them to the ends of the earth,” he vowed, as if speaking to an invisible screenplay writer. He gave the military “operational freedom,” not realizing that such reckless rhetoric is what emboldens chaos.
The truth is simple: a state that cannot safeguard tourists in its own heavily militarized valley needs to reflect before accusing.
Pakistan, meanwhile, responded not with rage but reason. DG ISPR addressed the world with documented timelines, digital forensics, and intelligence breakdowns that exposed Indian disinformation.
He laid out how Pakistan was not involved in fact, and how India’s own security holes allowed this to happen. The evidence was detailed, technical, and transparent. India’s response? Silence. Not a counter-point. Not a rebuttal. Just silence.
A silence so telling it echoed. Can such silence, in diplomatic language, be construed as a “yes”? Because if you scream blame and fall quiet when truth knocks, your own hush becomes a confession.
Yet amid these state-level theatrics, the Pakistani public has found a new arena: satire. On social media, responses from Pakistani youth are so biting, Indian news anchors might need aloe vera. Memes, tweets, and reels are all crafted with surgical sarcasm.
“The chilli burns in India, but the smoke rises from Lahore!” one user posted. “RAW needs better scriptwriters the villain always wins in their movies,” said another. Even Indian viewers have begun acknowledging that Pakistani satire is more effective than their own propaganda.
When the youth weaponize wit, even the loudest lies begin to crumble. Godi Media, once roaring with blame, now avoids scrolling through Twitter replies because what they find there isn’t misinformation, but humiliation.
And if proof was still needed that Indian hysteria is self-inflicted, we only need to recall the case of Abhinandan. The man whose aircraft was downed, whose tea was served, and whose moustache became a national symbol of misplaced pride.
What started as a military misadventure ended in viral memes. “Storm in a teacup,” Pakistanis joked except the storm was real, and the teacup returned safely. Abhinandan’s swollen nose became a metaphor for India’s swollen ego bruised by its own hubris.
This is the problem with fabricating victories: when real battles come, they’re confused with studio rehearsals.
Meanwhile, Pakistan has chosen poise over provocation. Its strategy has not been reactionary, but measured. It has chosen satellite data over slogans, and de-escalation over drama.
Its youth mock the hysteria with biting wit: “The chilli burns in India, but the smoke rises in Lahore.” On social media, satire outpaces outrage. The comments section has become India’s most uncomfortable mirror.
And let’s not forget the global metaphor India unintentionally gifted the world — Abhinandan’s tea. The Indian pilot captured and released by Pakistan became an unintentional symbol of failed aggression. “A storm in a teacup,” they now say. A teacup that carried more humility than New Delhi ever intended to sip.
Today, DG ISPR has offered a cup of facts. India has yet to take a sip.
In the end, one must ask: when a nation known for its thunderous rhetoric suddenly falls quiet in the face of truth, what does that silence really mean?
