Early in May 2025, India and Pakistan slipped, once again, to the edge of open war. For four days missiles, drones and artillery flew over the border until the U.S.‑brokered cease‑fire came into force on 10 May. By then at least 66 civilians on both sides had been killed, and whole cities had sat through rolling power cuts and air‑raid sirens.
Pakistanis took grim comfort from one fact: we did not fire first.
Indian newspapers later celebrated “Operation Sindoor,” saying their missiles had struck “terror camps” in Pakistan on 8 May. On the Pakistani side the pictures that went viral were different, broken houses in Rawalpindi, a child holding up a piece of tail‑fin, and hashtags that asked why New Delhi chose civilians as targets.
None of this is completely new. In 2019 India claimed it had shot down a Pakistani F‑16 and Pakistan showed Wing Commander Abhinandan Varthaman on national TV sipping tea in custody. India still repeats the F‑16 story; independent fact‑checks and even some Indian veterans call it fantasy.
A major part of the tension lives not in armies or governments but in communication between ordinary citizens on each side of the border, especially online. India’s economy is roughly ten times larger than Pakistan’s, so many Indians online start from a place of numerical pride. GDP, foreign investment, a moon‑landing, an aircraft carrier, the list is long and, to be fair, impressive.
Yet the tone often slips from “We have built a tall building” to “Let us knock down the neighbor’s smaller one.”
The fear goes deep into history: for centuries northern India was ruled by Muslim dynasties. Modern Indian nationalism, stirred by groups like the RSS, still frames Pakistan as the ghost of those past conquerors. The richer India gets, the more that ghost seems to bother it.
Pakistanis, however, are used to attacks targeted toward them in mainstream narratives. We expect accusations, we expect skepticism, and we tend to laugh them off. #TeaWasFantastic, the Abhinandan meme, is only the most famous example. During the May 2025 flare‑up Pakistani social media again filled with jokes, video edits and mock “receipts” for downed Indian drones within minutes of each claim from New Delhi.
Such humor has become a national shield.
Why the difference? Part of it is the economic structure. In raw dollars India’s GDP was about $3.6 trillion last year, while Pakistan’s stood near $340 billion, roughly a 10:1 gap. But divide by population and the gap is smaller: India’s GDP per person is around $2,480, Pakistan’s roughly $1,365, a ratio of less than 2:1.
That tells us where much of India’s new wealth sits: near the very top. India has nineteen times more people worth a thousand million dollars, but only twice the income per average citizen. In simple words, gains have piled up inside a thin crust of ultra‑rich families.
The 2025 Hurun Global Rich List counts 284 Indian billionaires, third‑most in the world, against 15 in Pakistan.
Extreme wealth brings extreme influence. When tycoons own media networks, sports leagues and political funds, the average viewer hears only one song. Mix that with the decades‑old caste hierarchy and the street feels pressure to chant along, especially in moments of crisis. The result we saw in May: businessmen waving flags on private skyscraper balconies while middle‑class Indians scrambled to find bomb shelters.
Pakistan’s money map is not perfect, far from it, but extreme concentration is smaller, and everyday life has been tougher for longer. After 9/11 we became the frontline of a different war. For fifteen years markets, mosques and schools faced suicide blasts. Millions of Pakistanis growing up during this period learned to scan parked cars and listen for drones. By the late 2010s the state finally pushed the militants back, yet the memory is fresh.
A missile whistle in Islamabad still makes people duck, but it does not paralyze them.
During the May 2025 strikes Indian cities went dark to preserve night vision for air‑defense guns. Viral clips showed commuters abandoning cars and running after false‑alarm sirens; some grocery shelves emptied in hours. In Lahore and Karachi the mood was tense but functional. Restaurants switched off neon signs, then carried on serving biryani by candlelight.
The meme factories never paused.
Part of this split is raw exposure. India has not fought a war inside its heartland for a long time. Pakistan has watched real bombs fall in its own towns well inside the last twenty years. Familiarity breeds a certain fatalistic calm.
Another part is information diet. With large private TV networks owned by a handful of conglomerates, Indian viewers mostly heard that their army was “teaching Pakistan a lesson” and that victory was certain. When the cease‑fire arrived with no worthwhile gain, confusion and anger spiked.
For years analysts have measured South Asian security in aircraft types, missile ranges and nuclear stockpiles. May 2025 reminded us of something simpler: war‑time stamina comes mostly from citizens’ nerves.
- Indian street reaction: sudden panic, hunger for triumphant news, sharp mood swings when reality differs.
- Pakistani street reaction: wary, sarcastic, but largely steady; accustomed to bad nights and power cuts.
Neither stance is morally superior. Pakistan paid a high human cost to earn its calm; no country should envy that journey. India’s economic prosperity is real and admirable; no country should mock success. Yet there is a lesson here: confidence that rests only on rapid growth can crack fast under stress.
Confidence forged in hardship bends but rarely snaps.
History shows flashes of empathy. After the 2005 Kashmir earthquake, Indians sent blankets and doctors to Pakistani villages. Pakistani cricket fans cheered India’s 2011 World Cup run once their own team was out. Social‑media jokes cross the border daily; many go viral on both timelines.
If regular Indians and Pakistanis talk more, about prices, school fees, floods, broken health systems, they may discover that their real rival is not each other but the small set of billionaires and ideologues who profit from fear.
Pakistan did surprise the world this month: showing restraint, then precision, then humor. India surprised no one by striking first, but it may have surprised itself by how brittle public morale became once the smoke rose at home. Numbers alone did not decide that outcome. Attitude did.
An economy worth trillions can still panic; a poorer nation can still keep its head.
The next time missiles fly, even though it is sincerely hoped they don’t, the stronger side will be the one whose ordinary citizens can stay calm, question loud claims and refuse to swallow hate.
On that score the May 2025 scorecard reads, quite clearly, Pakistan 1, India 0.
M Rayyan Nasser
M Rayyan Nasser is a writer from Pakistan, who tells authentic tales about people and where they live.
