Pahalgam: If Hindus aren’t safe in Hindustan, who is?
The blood on the ground in Pahalgam has dried. But the questions it left behind are fresh—and they burn. The nation doesn’t need empty outrage. It needs answers, action, and accountability from the very people who swore to protect it.
No more excuses. No more delays. Because if we can’t protect our people here, in our own country, then what kind of nation are we claiming to be?
Another massacre. Another promise. Another headline that fades into the background while families mourn the unbearable. Once again, being a Hindu in Hindustan feels like a liability, not a right. The barbaric terror attack in Pahalgam, where 28 innocent civilians—targeted by religion—were executed in cold blood, has forced the nation to confront an unthinkable question: Are Hindus even safe in their own land anymore?
As leaders trade blame and agencies issue statements, the country bleeds—its trust shattered, its people betrayed. How many more lives must be lost before this government wakes up? How many more must die before slogans are replaced by action?
In the tranquil Baisaran meadow of Pahalgam, terror wore the face of familiarity—six terrorists in Army fatigues walked in like protectors and killed like predators. According to survivors, they asked names, demanded religious identity, and gunned people down at point-blank range. It wasn’t a random shooting—it was a communal execution.
Where was the surveillance? Where were the so-called “multi-layered” security checks? How did terrorists infiltrate such a heavily monitored zone, kill with impunity, and disappear without a trace?
Yes, Pakistan’s fingerprints are all over this. The Lashkar-e-Taiba and The Resistance Front operate freely under its shadow. But pointing fingers across the border is no longer enough. What of our own failures? If Pakistan is the pyromaniac, then why is our fire brigade always late—or missing altogether?
India has the technology to launch satellites, decode encrypted networks, and neutralize threats from miles away. But somehow, we fail time and again to prevent attacks on our own citizens—especially when those citizens happen to be Hindus in Kashmir.
The government’s response? Predictable. “We will retaliate.” “This won’t go unpunished.” “Justice will be served.” These lines are now worn out, recycled after every tragedy. But Pahalgam was supposed to be secure. A tourist haven turned into a killing field. And still, no heads roll. No resignations. No real introspection.
From across the world, sympathy flows. Bhutan’s Tshering Tobgay extended condolences. International agencies have condemned the violence. But India doesn’t need pity. It needs policy, protection, and political courage. Even the CPI(M) called this what it is: a failure of governance, not just of intelligence.
Meanwhile, a chilling image circulates—one of the gunmen, rifle in hand, fleeing into the forest. The face may be blurred, but the truth isn’t. Our systems failed. Again. For a nation that boasts of surgical strikes and top-tier surveillance, it’s a damning image of incompetence.
To make matters worse, false narratives flooded social media, with rumors of IB officer casualties being weaponized to justify the killings. In truth, only one IB official—on leave with his family—was among the dead. That disinformation campaign is part of the terror strategy, and we’re losing that war too.
Let’s be brutally honest
Retaliation has become a performance, not a solution. What we need is transformation. Not vengeance, but vision. We need to rebuild our intelligence infrastructure, fix our porous borders, demand accountability from our leaders, and most importantly—stop acting only after innocent blood is spilled.
This was not just another terror attack. This was a warning shot aimed at the very idea of safety for the majority in their homeland. It wasn’t just an attack on civilians—it was an attack on faith, on identity, on national security itself.
