There is a limit to patience, even for a civilization as ancient and principled as India’s. Pakistan’s establishment, led by an unhinged and delusional military elite, has crossed that limit—again and again. But what unfolded with the Pahalgam terror attack, and the futile provocations that followed, has exposed something far darker: Pakistan is not just a failing state; it is a state held hostage by barbarism.
Let us no longer mince words. Pakistan’s military, with General Asim Munir at the helm, is waging a cowardly, mindless, and utterly self-defeating war. Not a conventional war, but one that feeds on terror, proxy bloodshed, and a psychotic obsession with harming India. And in that obsession, they have sacrificed their economy, their people, their credibility, and their future.
This hostility did not begin yesterday. It began the moment Pakistan chose to define its national identity not by what it is—but by what it is against.
Since 1947, every war initiated by Pakistan has ended in humiliation. In 1947, 1965, and 1971, India crushed Pakistan’s delusions of parity. In 1999 at Kargil, Indian forces threw back infiltrators occupying Indian territory that Pakistan’s own leaders disowned. Even now, Operation Sindoor—India’s powerful and precise response to the massacre of 26 innocents in Pahalgam—has sent a clear message: terrorism will be met with fire, not diplomacy.
Yet, the Pakistani deep state continues its blood-stained charade. It continues to breed terrorists in training camps, to radicalize youth, and to export jihad as a tool of state policy. And the world watches.
But India no longer will.
General Asim Munir is not a leader. He is a symbol of Pakistan’s rot. Under his command, the Pakistan Army has sunk further into delusion. In his world, terror is strategy, escalation is pride, and failure is someone else’s fault. His decision to send drone swarms into Leh, after watching terror camps get obliterated in PoK and Punjab by India’s Air Force, was not military strategy—it was an act of desperation and derangement.
What kind of general orders such recklessness knowing he cannot win? Only one who wants war for the sake of chaos, not victory. A man who wants to be remembered not for leading his nation to peace, but for dragging it into a pit of international disgrace.
This is not warfare. This is barbarism dressed in a military uniform. From harboring Osama bin Laden in Abbottabad, to nurturing Hafiz Saeed and Masood Azhar as heroes, to the constant use of Kashmiri lives as fuel for their failed cause—Pakistan’s army has long replaced doctrine with dogma.
And for what? Kashmir is not slipping from India’s grip; it is thriving. Pakistan’s obsession has gained it nothing but sanctions, isolation, and international scorn. Even its “all-weather friend,” China, has begun walking a careful line, refusing to get dragged into its madness.
Pakistan is now a nation that cannot feed its people, cannot repay its debts, and cannot convince the world of its lies anymore. But it still finds the funds to train terrorists, manufacture drones, and smuggle weapons across the border. What does this say about its priorities? What does it say about its soul?
This is not just a message from India—it should be a message from humanity: Stop. Stop this barbaric game before it turns to ash in your hands. Stop weaponizing religion. Stop glorifying death. Stop hiding behind nukes as if they are shields for your own failure.
India will not bow. India will not blink. India will not let another Pulwama, Pahalgam, or Uri go unanswered. The era of strategic restraint is over.
If the Pakistani army continues this path, it will not just be defeated—it will be dismantled. Not by foreign powers, but by the very chaos it cultivates. You cannot wage war against a rising India with the broken spine of a bankrupt nation.
And to the people of Pakistan: take back your country. Your generals are leading you not to glory, but to ruin. Your future does not lie in the ruins of Kashmir—it lies in your classrooms, your hospitals, your economy. Demand peace. Demand dignity. Demand freedom from an army that sees you as pawns in its unending grudge.
India is not the aggressor. India is the inheritor of a civilization that has withstood centuries of invasion, colonization, and division. But it is also a modern power—strong, stable, and self-assured. It seeks no war, but will never again allow blood to be spilled without retribution.
So let this be the final signal to Rawalpindi: The world is watching. India is ready. Choose peace or prepare for consequences you cannot control. Because this time, there will be no turning back.