At 8:24 p.m. in Michigan, the fragile peace between India and Pakistan shattered under the weight of Operation Sindoor—a coordinated Indian missile assault that struck eight different sites across Pakistan and Azad Jammu and Kashmir.
The Indian Armed Forces launched 24 long-range missiles, causing the deaths of eight civilians and injuring 33 others, according to Pakistan’s Director General of Inter-Services Public Relations (DG ISPR), Lieutenant General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry.
The attacks were not aimed at alleged terror camps or militant training bases. Strikingly, none of the religious schools (madrasas)—typically accused of extremist indoctrination—were targeted.
Instead, the missiles hit three prominent mosques: Bilal Mosque in Muzaffarabad, Abbas Mosque in Kotli, and another mosque in Muridke.
Additional civilian infrastructure, such as a dispensary in Shakargarh and homes in Kotli Loharaan near Sialkot, was also damaged.
This choice of targets has sparked widespread outrage. Mosques—houses of worship for over a billion Muslims worldwide—lack the secrecy, space, or structure to host covert militant training. They are, by definition, public, open, and sacred.
By attacking these sites, India risks being viewed not as a counter-terrorist actor, but as an aggressor targeting Islamic symbols.
Even if Muslim governments remain silent, public opinion across the Muslim world—from North Africa to Southeast Asia—is likely to turn sharply against India.
India claims the strikes were in response to the April 22 Pahalgam attack in Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir (IIOJK), which killed 25 Indians and one Nepali national.
It accuses Lashkar-e-Taiba and Lashkar-e-Jhangvi of orchestrating the attack from within Pakistan.
However, India has released no evidence, conducted no international investigation, and bypassed all diplomatic forums in launching the strikes.
From a military analyst’s perspective, the method of attack marks a doctrinal shift. India used only missiles—avoiding manned aircraft—reflecting its evolution toward stand-off, unmanned precision warfare.
Most missiles hit their intended targets, indicating advanced satellite guidance and geospatial targeting. Yet this assessment is based purely on impact outcomes, not on any Pakistani concession.
What is even more troubling is what the attack revealed about regional air defence capabilities.
Since the Pahalgam incident, Pakistan’s military—including its Air Force and ground units—had been placed on high alert, anticipating an Indian strike.
And yet, according to the DG ISPR briefing, not a single Indian missile was intercepted.
This disturbing fact demonstrates that South Asia may now have entered a phase of warfare where neither country’s defence systems are capable of reliably intercepting incoming projectiles.
In a region with two nuclear-armed states, this vulnerability transforms every preemptive strike into a potentially catastrophic escalation.
It shows that technological advancements in missile delivery now outpace both countries’ ability to defend against them.
And while both sides may feel empowered by their offensive precision, the reality is that they are both deeply exposed.
India, being the larger power with more to lose, should have considered this carefully before opting for missiles over negotiations.
India, a country that proclaims itself a global power and the world’s largest democracy, had every opportunity to show restraint and leadership.
It could have pursued an international inquiry, shared intelligence with allies, and allowed diplomacy to guide its actions.
But it chose impulsiveness over introspection, escalation over evidence. Instead of rising above the conflict, India descended into it—and in doing so, dragged itself down to the very level it seeks to rise above.
Pakistan, though cornered economically and politically, is now in a position where a retaliatory strike is not just expected—it is inevitable.
However, the nature of the retaliation remains flexible. Pakistan can still respond with strategic insight and moral clarity.
One of its most potent options lies in targeting India’s water infrastructure—specifically, the dams constructed over the Jhelum, Chenab, and Indus rivers.
These dams, long used by India as strategic leverage against Pakistan, could be neutralised with minimal civilian casualties but maximum strategic impact.
Destroying them would invalidate India’s threats to weaponise water, reverse a decade of infrastructure investment, and shift psychological momentum back in Pakistan’s favour.
In the global arena, reactions remain measured. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio confirmed via X that he was briefed by Indian National Security Adviser Ajit Doval and is “monitoring the situation closely.”
President Donald Trump, speaking at the White House, called the escalation “a shame,” adding, “I just hope it ends very quickly.”
Rubio echoed this sentiment and pledged to engage with both sides toward a peaceful resolution.
Meanwhile, India’s civilian response suggests fear of imminent retaliation. Multiple Indian airlines—including Air India, IndiGo, and SpiceJet—have suspended flights to and from Kashmir and border cities like Jammu, Srinagar, Leh, Amritsar, and Rajkot.
Airports have been closed, and two international flights were diverted to Delhi mid-air.
India’s military readiness may have initiated the strike, but it now waits—along with its civilians—for the inevitable Pakistani response.
Pakistan has long accused India of supporting terror activities through proxies in Balochistan and the Pakistani tribal belt via Afghanistan.
If Pakistan chooses to strike facilities it believes house or train anti-Pakistan insurgents, it would merely be applying the very justification India used for Operation Sindoor.
The difference would be: this time, Pakistan could choose its targets wisely—perhaps avoiding religious or civilian sites to preserve the very moral contrast India has just erased.
Moreover, this episode ushers in a new era of warfare in the subcontinent—dominated by unmanned precision systems, drones, robotic ground units, and artificial intelligence-enhanced missiles.
Both countries are entering a battlefield where deterrence depends less on numbers and more on seconds—on who strikes first, and who survives the counterstrike.
For now, India waits. Not in victory, but in uncertainty.
Pakistan’s military leadership has stated unequivocally that the response will come “at a time and place of our choosing.”
Whether it strikes strategic installations, economic chokepoints, or infrastructural vulnerabilities, Pakistan’s response will redefine the terms of engagement—and the geopolitical balance of the region.
India may have launched the first strike, but it has lost the strategic narrative. It has violated religious sanctity, bypassed international process, and exposed both itself and the region to a dangerous new normal.
Now, the world watches. And India waits.
