In the 1980s, Indian cinema was a celebration of storytelling. It transcended class and geography, blending creativity with emotion. Families gathered around VCRs to watch films that reflected real life. Dialogue, lyrics, and direction carried heart and meaning. But as time passed, Indian cinema’s soul began to fade. Storytelling was replaced by spectacle, and art slowly became a tool of political manipulation.
When Politics Took Over the Script
Today, the decline of Indian films mirrors a deeper decay—the fusion of politics and propaganda. The scriptwriter, director, and producer of India’s new “blockbusters” is none other than Narendra Modi. His political dramas are no longer about love or humanity but about fear, division, and control. These productions often premiere just before elections, ensuring that hate replaces hope and fear overshadows facts.
The tragedy is that these films don’t fail at the box office—they fail humanity. Whenever political storytelling falters, Pakistan conveniently becomes the villain in the script.
The Red Fort Blast: A Tragedy Turned Political Script
The recent Red Fort Blast near Delhi on November 10, 2025, killed eight people and injured more than two dozen. What should have been a moment of national mourning turned into a political screenplay. As facts emerged, contradictions began to surface between what eyewitnesses said and what the government declared.
Eyewitnesses claimed the vehicle involved was a Suzuki Maruti. Videos from the scene confirmed it. Yet, within hours, officials declared it was a Hyundai i20. The Home Minister’s statement, echoed by pro-government media, turned the “CNG cylinder explosion” into a “terrorist blast.” Strangely, no CCTV footage has been made public, raising serious questions:
Was the evidence manipulated? Were witnesses silenced? And why the secrecy, if there was nothing to hide?
The Mystery of the Car and the Convenient Kashmir Link
Ownership of the car added to the confusion. Reports first mentioned Nadeem from Faridabad, then Salman, and suddenly a third name appeared—Tariq from Pulwama, Kashmir. Overnight, the narrative jumped from Haryana to Kashmir, evoking memories of Pulwama 2019. This pattern—tying any blast to Kashmir or Pakistan—has become a familiar political script designed to provoke emotion and consolidate votes.
Terror or Tragedy? The Questions That Remain
Even the nature of the explosion remains unclear. Was it a terror attack or an accidental CNG blast? First responders suspected the latter. Yet, before any forensic report surfaced, the media had already declared it terrorism. Curiously, all passengers in the car died instantly—an unusual outcome for genuine terror operations. After that, the story went silent. No detailed updates, no verified forensic results—just the official narrative.
The Pattern of Manufactured Fear
Whenever facts contradict the ruling party’s claims, the script is rewritten. From staged encounters to communal violence, the strategy remains the same: invent an enemy, amplify fear, and reap political dividends. The Red Fort Blast fits this template perfectly. It stokes Islamophobia, demonizes Kashmiris, distracts from real crises like inflation and unemployment, and points a predictable finger at Pakistan.
The Human Cost Behind the Headlines
Amid the noise, the real tragedy is forgotten. Eight lives were lost, twenty-six families devastated—and yet, the national debate revolves around political strategy, not justice or compassion. These victims deserved transparency, not propaganda. They deserved truth, not theatre.
In Modi’s India, even grief has been scripted. The lines between cinema and politics have blurred beyond recognition. When statecraft becomes performance, truth becomes its first casualty.
From Cinema of Compassion to Politics of Control
India once taught the world that films could unite, heal, and inspire. Today, its ruling establishment uses the same medium to divide and dominate. When art becomes a weapon, and politics becomes theatre, both creativity and conscience are lost.
The Red Fort Blast will be remembered—not for its tragedy alone—but as another act in the political stagecraft that defines Modi’s India. It might win applause from loyalists, but in the box office of truth, it remains a flop.
Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal serves as the Director General (Research) at the National Assembly Secretariat, Parliament House, Islamabad. With extensive experience in legislative research and policy analysis.
