In The Godfather, Mario Puzo wrote, “Revenge is a dish that tastes best when served cold.” He meant that true retribution demands patience, calculation, and the discipline to set aside rage. In that context, it’s almost comical to see some of our social media warriors mourning what is clearly India’s ongoing victory. Pakistan once vowed to bleed India with a thousand cuts—only to find itself bleeding instead. Let me break it down in nine points—much like our first strikes on May 7.

One. Critics argue that India had the upper hand and didn’t go for the jugular—as if this were a cricket match. Some were bothered that Pakistan’s delusional digital warriors were claiming victory. But strategic deterrence isn’t measured in online applause. The goal wasn’t to flatten cities—it was to rewrite the playbook. After 26/11, we sent dossiers and did little else. After Uri, we launched surgical strikes. After Pulwama, we hit Balakot. After Pahalgam, nine terror camps were destroyed with precision missile strikes deep within Pakistan. After Pakistan’s drone swarms, its airbases were swiftly and decisively hit. The emerging pattern is clear: we act, we calibrate, and we stop… but only when you do.

Two. India has far more to lose in a prolonged war—economically, diplomatically, and globally. That’s not a weakness; it’s the burden of scale. Restraint, in this context, is strategy. Our expanding economy is India’s greatest long-term deterrent. In 1971, the GDP gap between India and Pakistan was around $57 billion. Today, it’s over $3.5 trillion. We’re not just pulling ahead—we’re accelerating. A war slows that momentum. Pakistan would welcome that. India has no reason to oblige.

Three. A cessation of kinetic action doesn’t mean other actions have stopped. Far from it. India’s response has been multi-dimensional—economic, diplomatic, and covert. The Indus Waters Treaty—or IWT—is in abeyance. Trade has been cut off. Visa channels have tightened. Illegals are being deported. Talks with Afghanistan’s Taliban regime have resumed. Support for the Baloch cause is no longer a strategic taboo. FATF pressure is being quietly reignited. India caused mayhem without deploying naval power. We called a rogue state’s nuclear bluff. And, most significantly, we rewrote the doctrine: any act of terror will be treated as an act of war.

Four. The IWT is no longer sacred. For decades, India honoured the IWT—even during full-scale wars. By placing it in abeyance, India has finally applied long-overdue strategic pressure. Nearly 80% of Pakistan’s agriculture depends on the Indus system. Its drinking water, electricity, and food security all flow from rivers that rise in India. Even minor disruptions can devastate crops, drain power grids, and inflame unrest in an already fragile, bankrupt state. So what happened to Pakistan calling IWT suspension an act of war? If that were truly the red line, why did Islamabad plead for a ceasefire—while India still keeps the tap half-closed? Because deep down, they know this isn’t war. It’s leverage. And they’ve never faced it like this before.

Five. The pause is also the perfect moment to showcase Indian defence capability—not just for deterrence but for dollars. The past few days weren’t just a strategic success; they were a live demonstration of indigenous missile systems and air defence tech. Countries around the world were watching. Every successful strike is also a sales pitch. And it wasn’t just Pakistan that got the message. China did too. The operation signalled that India can defend itself with homegrown systems. It also warned countries buying Chinese hardware: cheap isn’t always reliable.

Six. We need to get back on track in J&K—because that’s where Pakistan always hopes the fire will spread. Every terror attack isn’t just about casualties—it’s about derailment: of development, of trust-building, and of integration. But the real answer to Pahalgam is a child in Baramulla going to school without fear and a youth in Anantnag choosing a career instead of a Kalashnikov. This is the moment to double down—morally, economically, and yes, also demographically.

Seven. The war within is the real war. Pakistan is not just across the border—some of it lurks within our own. Every act of terror requires not just a handler in Rawalpindi but also a sympathiser here: the sleeper cell, the radicalised youth, the ideological apologist. History teaches us that an external enemy is dangerous—but an internal sympathiser is lethal. The fall of Prithviraj Chauhan to Muhammad Ghori, the betrayal of Siraj-ud-Daulah at Plassey, the insurgency during the Khalistan movement, and the success of the 26/11 Mumbai attacks—each reveals the same brutal truth: when loyalty frays within, even the strongest defences crumble. The battle of minds is now more urgent than the battle of missiles. Upgrading our law enforcement and judicial systems is no longer optional—it’s the crying need of the hour.

Eight. Geopolitical alignments are shifting rapidly, and India must not only respond—but prepare to lead. The global order is entering a turbulent phase: great power rivalries are deepening, alliances are reshaping, and supply chains are being weaponised. In this flux, India must punch above its weight—not just as a balancing force, but as a voice of stability and reason. To do that, we need time, space, and focus. A full-scale war with Pakistan would be a distraction. Strategic patience isn’t passivity—it’s preparation.

Nine. Pakistan’s real fear? Not missiles—but irrelevance. What rattles Islamabad isn’t India’s strikes—it’s being ignored. For decades, its foreign policy hinged on being a permanent problem. But the world has moved on. The UAE signs deals with Israel. Saudi Arabia hosts yoga sessions. The West wants semiconductors—not sermons on Kashmir. Worse, Pakistan fears something even deeper: internal fracture. The military fears losing its grip. The state fears breaking apart. The Pahalgam attack was meant to pull India back into its shadow. Instead, it showed just how far India has surged ahead. That’s the coldest revenge of all—not rage, not retaliation, but irrelevance through progress.

In history, revenge served cold has always carried the deepest sting. After the massacre of Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972, Mossad launched a covert campaign lasting over a decade, eliminating those responsible—one by one. When the Shah of Iran exiled Ayatollah Khomeini in 1964, Khomeini spent 15 years building underground networks before returning in 1979 to topple the monarchy. After 9/11, the U.S. spent nearly a decade tracking Osama bin Laden before executing a surgical raid in Abbottabad.

The lesson is clear: when nations act not in anger, but with quiet resolve—they don’t just settle scores. They reshape the world.

--- The writer is an author of several works of fiction.