(Commonwealth_India) Prime Minister Narendra Modi marked this year’s Diwali not in the comfort of his residence or among civilians, but on the high seas with the Indian Navy, his twelfth Diwali with the armed forces and his first with the Navy. The festival of lights took on a symbolic meaning that night, as the Prime Minister’s words carried a powerful message, one meant not just for the sailors before him, but for those watching from across the Arabian Sea, in Pakistan’s military headquarters at Rawalpindi.
Standing aboard the mighty INS Vikrant, India’s largest and most advanced indigenous aircraft carrier, Modi praised the crew and the vessel with a mix of pride and quiet warning. “Just a few months ago, we witnessed how the name INS Vikrant sent waves of fear across Pakistan,” he said, his voice echoing through the ship’s vast hangar. “Such is its might, a name that shatters the enemy’s courage even before the battle begins. That is the power of INS Vikrant.”
His words were not mere rhetoric. Satellite imagery and intelligence reports later confirmed that during the recent 88-hour confrontation, the Pakistan Navy had effectively abandoned its key bases in Karachi and Ormara, retreating westward to safer civilian ports like Gwadar and Pasni. These sudden movements revealed a nervousness, an acknowledgment of the Indian Navy’s overwhelming reach. According to sources, the Vikrant battle group had been deployed just 300 nautical miles south of Karachi, accompanied by four escort vessels armed with BrahMos missiles, ready to strike if orders came. The ceasefire announcement on May 10 came just in time to halt what could have been a crippling blow.
Had the Indian Navy launched those strikes, the consequences for Pakistan would have been immediate and severe. The country’s entire coastal economy hangs by a thread; its energy lifeline runs through the Arabian Sea. Over half a million barrels of oil arrive daily through its ports, sustaining an economy already under stress. A successful Indian blockade would have severed those routes, sending global shipping lines fleeing from Pakistani waters and driving up costs. In a matter of weeks, Pakistan could have faced a full-blown energy crisis. With over 95 percent of its trade by volume and nearly two-thirds by value moving through its ports, the nation would effectively have been turned into a landlocked state, dependent on its uneasy neighbors, Iran, Afghanistan, and China. for survival.
Pakistan’s coastline itself is a weakness. Geographically, it forms a cul-de-sac. a narrow stretch of sea with few escape routes and little strategic depth. Its navy, smaller and technologically inferior, cannot match the Indian fleet in size, capability, or experience. During the brief conflict, Pakistan’s ability to defend its own coastlines was further crippled by Indian Air Force strikes that disabled key radar systems, including one in Karachi’s Malir Cantonment. Without early warning, its ships were forced to retreat to ports that would shield them from Indian missiles rather than confront them.
This imbalance is not new. History has already shown how vulnerable Pakistan’s navy becomes in wartime. In 1971, during the India-Pakistan war that led to the birth of Bangladesh, the Indian Navy executed a devastating campaign. In the west, Indian missile boats attacked Karachi, sinking several major warships, including the destroyer PNS Khaibar, and destroying supply ships carrying U.S. arms for the Pakistan Army. In the east, the earlier INS Vikrant blockaded East Pakistan, sealing off escape routes and intercepting ships fleeing the conflict. The Navy even launched daring raids deep inland, supporting Indian troops advancing toward Khulna.
More than five decades later, echoes of that history seem to be returning. Once again, Vikrant, now reborn as a modern, indigenously built carrier, looms over the Arabian Sea, a symbol of India’s growing maritime strength and technological self-reliance. And once again, Pakistani warships have sought refuge, this time in the Chinese-built port of Gwadar. Reports that Pakistan’s military leadership offered Pasni as a secondary base for U.S. operations only underline their desperation to secure alternative routes and the depth of their strategic vulnerability.
Even Pakistan’s own leadership has begun to acknowledge the pressure. Defence Minister Khawaja Asif recently admitted that his country was “facing a two-front crisis,” caught between instability in Afghanistan and the tension with India. Yet, Prime Minister Modi’s Diwali visit, with its unmistakable symbolism and carefully chosen words, pointed toward something even more troubling for Islamabad, a third front. One that lies not on land, but at sea.
For India, the celebration aboard INS Vikrant was more than a gesture of solidarity with the forces. It was a statement that the Indian Navy now holds the power to redefine the balance of strength in the region. And for Pakistan, it was a reminder that while borders can be defended on land, the sea remains an open frontier, one where India’s shadow now looms large.
