There is a certain predictability to madness. Like a drunk uncle who insists on dancing at every family function, Pakistan never misses an opportunity to make a fool of itself on the global stage. Only in this case, the fool carries a Kalashnikov and dreams of Ghazwa-e-Hind.
Let us not be delusional. Pakistan will not stop its terror strikes on India. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not even when they’re down to eating grass — which, by the way, they promised they would, just to keep building nuclear weapons. The reason is simple: the nature of a beast never changes. Especially when that beast has been bottle-fed with Wahhabi propaganda, rocked to sleep by ISI lullabies, and taught that martyrdom is more profitable than mathematics.
For decades, we’ve tried diplomacy, dialogue, bus rides, cricket matches, and Bollywood crossovers. We’ve sung the tune of “Aman ki Asha” while they responded with “Zehar ki Bhasha.” Every olive branch we’ve extended has been returned with bloodstains. Every ceasefire agreement has been treated as a comma in their script of perpetual jihad.
And yet, some in our ivory towers still want us to talk peace.
You cannot negotiate with a pig possessed by radicalism. You can’t explain humanity to a creature that believes it earns divine brownie points for slaughtering innocents in the name of God. What we are dealing with here is not a neighbor; it’s a nuclear-armed asylum masquerading as a country.
Now, before the politically correct crowd begins foaming at the mouth, let me be clear: this is not a rant against Muslims. This is a rant against Islamic radicalism. Against a toxic, cancerous ideology that has hijacked faith and turned it into a killing machine. And in Pakistan, this machine isn’t just running — it’s state-sponsored, army-oiled, and media-polished.
Let’s not forget, Osama bin Laden didn’t hide in a cave. He lived in a cozy compound a stone’s throw from Pakistan’s military academy. Coincidence? No. It was hospitality — the ISI’s version of an Airbnb for terrorists. Hafiz Saeed gave public sermons. Masood Azhar gets protected like a national treasure. Meanwhile, their proxies keep sneaking across our borders like cockroaches in the night, spreading death and destruction with impunity.
And yet, we’re told to “exercise restraint.”
Well, I say restraint is overrated.
If you have a rabid pig charging at your children, you don’t offer it a seat at the table. You don’t call for dialogue. You don’t light candles and sing peace songs. You take aim, and you put it to sleep. Permanently. That’s not warmongering — that’s hygiene.
India must accept a harsh reality: this is not just a border conflict. It’s not even about Kashmir anymore. This is a civilizational war between a pluralistic democracy and a theocratic experiment gone horribly wrong. Between a nation that believes in science, enterprise, and progress — and a Frankenstein’s monster fueled by resentment, revisionism, and radicalism.
Pakistan thrives on hate because it has nothing else to offer. No economy to boast of. No global achievements to flaunt. Just a perpetual victimhood complex wrapped in a green flag and peppered with anti-India slogans. Terrorism is not an aberration for them — it is a strategic asset.
And yet, we hold back. We play the good neighbor. We issue strongly worded statements, light pyres for our martyrs, and move on — until the next bomb goes off, the next soldier is beheaded, the next child is orphaned.
It’s time to end this cycle.
India must discard its diplomatic dhoti and pick up its warrior’s sword. Not to invade, not to occupy, but to punish — with precision, with purpose, and with permanence. Every terror camp destroyed should echo with the message: the cost of harming India will be unbearable.
We don’t need to shout from rooftops. We don’t need UN stamps of approval. What we need is clarity — and courage.
Because when you’re dealing with a pig possessed with Islamic radicalism, the only humane thing to do… is to put it down before it infects the entire farm.
And trust me — no one mourns a rabid pig.
