In a twist of poetic justice, Maulana Masood Azhar—the man who orchestrated the massacre of countless innocents in Kashmir, whose blood-soaked hands are a grim testament to his reign of terror—has now tasted the bitter anguish of loss. For years, he revelled and caroused in the suffering of others, orchestrating a symphony of death from the shadows, his twisted ideology sustained by the Pakistani army's patronage.

Notwithstanding the devastation of nine terror camps, the Indian army’s strike on Markaz Subhan Allah in Bahawalpur—his breeding ground of terror—shattered his false sense of invincibility. Ten of his family members were wiped out, leaving Azhar, the self-proclaimed warrior, drenched in grief. His voice trembled with sorrow as he glorified their deaths in the florid language of jihad, calling them a "lucky caravan."

Against the backdrop of the Indian army’s precision to dismantle terror camps, beneath this façade, there was a man stripped of his arrogance, forced to confront the agony he so liberally inflicted on others. This is the monster who dared to dream of martyrdom while turning Kashmir into a graveyard. For once, Masood Azhar felt the agony he has sown dating back to his release by the Indian government 26 years back.

For the Pakistan Army, this is merely a statistic. For decades, they have discarded lives—of their own citizens, of brainwashed youth, and of Kashmiris—like expendable pieces in their deadly game. Generals in Rawalpindi smile and shake hands in global........

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