The Empty Theatre of Refusing a Handshake

 The Pahalgam terror attack tore through the conscience of the country. Families of innocent tourists who were slaughtered in Kashmir raised one unambiguous plea: do not allow India to share a cricket field with the very state that sponsors such violence. Large sections of the public echoed this call. It was not about cricket; it was about dignity and morality.

And yet, the Indian team, with the full sanction of the government, landed in Dubai and played Pakistan. No hesitation, no moral pause, no acknowledgement of the deep wound in public sentiment. By playing the match, India had already abandoned the moral high ground.

Then came the theatre. After winning the toss, Indian players refused to shake hands with their counterparts. After winning the match, they repeated the same gesture. Suddenly, this petty discourtesy was paraded as an act of heroism. Commentators projected it as if refusing to extend a hand was somehow a victory for the nation, a bold rebuke to Pakistan. But what worthy point was made here? None.

If India truly wanted to send a message—that it will not play with merchants of terror—the only meaningful act was to refuse the match altogether. That would have been consistent with the public sentiment and with India’s declared stance that terror and talks cannot go together. Playing the match but refusing a handshake is not defiance; it is deceit.

Worse, it insults the intelligence of the very public in whose name this drama is staged. Citizens had asked for something far more substantial: a boycott. Instead, they got a show—India playing Pakistan as usual, and then pretending to strike a blow by withholding courtesies. This is tokenism at its most hollow. It does not console the bereaved families of Pahalgam. It does not add weight to India’s moral argument globally. It only gives television the spectacle of “snubbing Pakistan” for prime-time consumption.

In truth, India cannot have it both ways. Either sport is kept apart from politics, in which case one plays and one shakes hands. Or sport is made a political instrument, in which case one walks away from the fixture itself. To play the full match and then turn the handshake into a matter of national pride is a travesty. It makes a mockery of both sport and statecraft.

If there was ever a time for clarity, it is now. The public does not need theatre, it needs honesty. Either India plays Pakistan as just another opponent, or it does not play at all. Anything in between—this elaborate play-acting of defiance—is nothing but a farce.