Indian television news does not simply report when a wanted militant is shot dead on a street in Karachi or Lahore; it narrates the event through a template that Bollywood provided, complete with cinematic vocabulary, side-by-side scene comparisons, and a soundtrack that millions of viewers already know by heart.

The phenomenon is neither accidental nor trivial. Since Aditya Dhar’s Dhurandhar became the highest-grossing Bollywood blockbuster of its year, a feedback loop has formed between entertainment and journalism that now governs how hundreds of millions of Indians process the shadow war unfolding across the border. A real targeted killing breaks as news. Within minutes, social media users overlay clips from the film onto the breaking report. Television anchors reference specific Dhurandhar scenes during their coverage. Hashtags combining the film’s title with the name of the deceased militant trend simultaneously on multiple platforms. By the next morning, opinion columns debate whether the latest operation was conducted in a manner the film would approve of, as though Ranveer Singh’s fictional character were an operational benchmark for the real intelligence establishment.
Beyond the news cycle, the meme ecosystem that Dhurandhar generated is itself a study in how entertainment absorbs reality. ThePrint documented how influencers created a viral genre of “day one as an Indian spy in Pakistan” content, with creators showing how ingrained Indian habits, touching feet of elders, asking for QR codes, refusing non-vegetarian food on Tuesdays, would blow an undercover operative’s cover. Influencer duo Dhruv and Shyam produced one of the most-viewed reels in the genre, accumulating over forty-two million views on Instagram alone. Yuvraj Dua’s take on the trend showed his cover being blown by instinctively ordering alcohol from Gurgaon and snacks from Blinkit. These memes were lighthearted, but their cultural function was serious: they normalized the concept of Indian intelligence operatives working inside Pakistan, making the shadow war’s premise as familiar and acceptable as a social media trend. When real events subsequently confirmed the premise, audiences had already been primed to receive them with enthusiasm rather than scrutiny.
Eventually the cycle resets, waiting for the next elimination to restart the loop. Each iteration strengthens the association between fiction and fact until the distinction itself becomes difficult for audiences to maintain. Examining how this loop formed, how it operates across multiple platforms and formats, and what it ultimately means for journalism and democratic accountability is not merely a media studies exercise. It is a necessary investigation into how a nation has chosen to understand, celebrate, and ultimately normalize covert violence conducted in its name on foreign soil.
The Film’s Version
Dhurandhar arrived in cinemas carrying a specific visual and narrative vocabulary that Indian audiences had never encountered at this scale. Previous Bollywood counter-terror productions had explored covert operations on Pakistani soil, but none had done so with the combination of commercial ambition, directorial confidence, and political timing that characterized Dhar’s project. Understanding how the film constructed its vocabulary is essential to understanding how that vocabulary migrated into news coverage, because the migration was not random. Specific cinematic choices made the film’s imagery uniquely portable, transferable from darkened multiplexes to brightly lit television studios with minimal translation required.
The film’s protagonist, played by Ranveer Singh, operates as an undercover Research and Analysis Wing operative embedded in Karachi’s criminal underworld. His mission requires him to identify, locate, and neutralize individuals responsible for attacks on Indian soil. The complete analysis of the film’s narrative structure reveals a deliberate pattern: every elimination sequence follows an identifiable template. The operative gathers intelligence through personal networks. He identifies a target’s location and routine. He moves to the vicinity using local transport, often a motorcycle. The strike happens quickly, usually with a firearm at close range. The operative vanishes into the city’s chaos before Pakistani security forces can respond. This template, repeated across the film’s three-and-a-half-hour runtime, burned a specific image into the audience’s visual memory: the motorcycle-borne assassin navigating narrow Pakistani streets, the brief confrontation, the escape through crowded marketplaces, the calm return to a safe house where the operative reports success through encrypted channels.
Dhar’s directorial choices reinforced the template’s memorability in ways that proved consequential for the subsequent media feedback loop. The film’s sepia-toned color palette gave every Karachi scene a distinct visual signature. The camera angles during elimination sequences followed a consistent pattern: wide establishing shot of the target’s location, medium shot of the operative approaching, close-up of the weapon being drawn, rapid editing during the strike itself, and then a lingering aerial pullback showing the operative disappearing into the urban landscape while Pakistani bystanders gathered around the fallen target. Film critic Mayank Shekhar noted that the production had created a deliberately stylized version of Karachi, one that prioritized cinematic atmosphere over geographic accuracy, with the city appearing as a perpetually dusty, dangerous, and architecturally decayed setting for covert drama. Pakistani commentators observed that the real Karachi bore little resemblance to Dhar’s vision, but accuracy was never the point. The point was creating a visual shorthand so distinctive that audiences would instantly recognize it, and so emotionally compelling that they would want to see it again.
The soundtrack amplified the visual template’s portability. Shashwat Sachdev’s compositions, particularly the title track featuring Hanumankind and Jasmine Sandlas, functioned as emotional accelerants. When the film played in theaters, audiences heard these compositions synchronized with on-screen eliminations. The neural association between music and violence was established in the controlled environment of a cinema hall, but it proved remarkably durable outside that environment. Within weeks of the film’s release, the soundtrack had become detachable from the film itself, circulating as standalone audio clips that users could overlay onto any content they chose, including news footage of real events.
Equally significant was the film’s treatment of institutional authority. The RAW handlers in Dhurandhar, particularly the character played by Akshaye Khanna, projected calm competence and moral clarity. There was no ambiguity about whether the operations were justified. There was no agonized debate about sovereignty, international law, or proportionality. The institutional decision to eliminate specific individuals was presented as both strategically necessary and morally self-evident. As the analysis of Bollywood’s evolving relationship with RAW demonstrates, this represented the apex of a decade-long genre evolution from romanticized spy fantasy to operationalized intelligence thriller. Dhurandhar did not merely depict India’s intelligence apparatus; it provided audiences with an emotional framework for evaluating the apparatus’s real-world activities. When real operations subsequently occurred, audiences had already been trained by the film to interpret them through a specific lens: as justified, as competent, as heroically executed by professionals operating under extreme pressure in hostile territory.
The film also established a set of character archetypes that proved remarkably easy for journalists and commentators to deploy when discussing real events. The fearless operative who walks among enemies without flinching. The mastermind handler who moves chess pieces from a distant operations room. The duplicitous Pakistani establishment figure who publicly condemns terrorism while privately sheltering it. The expendable militant whose elimination is both inevitable and satisfying. These archetypes predated Dhurandhar in Indian popular culture, but the film crystallized them with such commercial force that they became the default cast of characters through which subsequent real events would be understood. When a news report described an unknown assailant shooting a Lashkar-e-Taiba operative on a Lahore street, audiences did not picture a generic act of violence. They pictured Ranveer Singh.
Another dimension of Dhurandhar’s media portability lies in its treatment of geography. Real covert operations in Pakistan span multiple cities, each with its own social texture, linguistic identity, and security architecture. Karachi’s Lyari neighborhood operates according to different rules than Lahore’s cantonment areas or Rawalpindi’s military-adjacent residential sectors. Dhurandhar collapsed this geographic diversity into a single, atmospherically uniform “Pakistan” that functioned as a setting rather than a place. The production filmed across locations in India and Thailand, constructing a composite Karachi that prioritized mood over accuracy. This composite geography proved ideal for the subsequent feedback loop because it was generic enough to accommodate any Pakistani city. When a killing occurred in Lahore, the film’s Karachi imagery served equally well as the audience’s mental backdrop. When an incident was reported from Rawalpindi, the same sepia-toned visual register applied without modification. Dhurandhar had created a theatrical Pakistan that was not any specific Pakistani place but all of them simultaneously, and this theatrical universality made the film’s imagery deployable across the full geographic range of the shadow war.
The film’s pacing decisions also contributed to the template’s transferability. Dhar employed a rhythm in his elimination sequences that alternated between extended periods of surveillance and preparation, during which tension accumulated slowly, and brief, explosive moments of violence that resolved the tension within seconds. This rhythm mapped onto the temporal structure of real shadow war events as they were reported: extended periods of quiet between incidents, creating anticipation, followed by sudden breaking reports that resolved the anticipation in a burst of news coverage. Audiences conditioned by the film’s rhythm to expect and enjoy the tension-release pattern found the same pattern reproduced in their news consumption cycle, reinforcing the association between entertainment experience and news experience at a structural level deeper than individual images or scenes.
Furthermore, Dhurandhar’s dialogue contributed phrases and formulations that entered the public vocabulary. Specific lines from the film, delivered by Ranveer Singh and Akshaye Khanna, circulated on social media as captions, reaction images, and audio clips. These phrases became available as ready-made commentary on real events, allowing social media users to respond to breaking news with film dialogue rather than original analysis. The phrases functioned as interpretive shortcuts: rather than formulating an independent response to a complex event, users could simply deploy a Dhurandhar quote, and other users would instantly understand both the reference and the intended interpretation. This shortcut mechanism accelerated the feedback loop by reducing the cognitive effort required to frame real events through the film’s template.
The commercial scale of the film’s success magnified every one of these effects. Dhurandhar crossed the thousand-crore worldwide box office mark, reaching an estimated global gross exceeding 1,350 crore rupees. It became the highest-grossing Indian film of 2025, the third highest-grossing Hindi film in history, and a cultural event that transcended conventional film fandom. With that level of cultural penetration, the film’s visual vocabulary was not merely available to news producers and social media users who chose to reference it. It was unavoidable. Any Indian consuming news about events in Pakistan was doing so while carrying Dhurandhar’s imagery in their recent memory. The film had pre-loaded the interpretive framework, and the news provided the content to fill it.
The Reality
The actual shadow war operates according to a logic that is simultaneously similar to and profoundly different from Dhurandhar’s depiction. The decoded pattern of unknown gunmen operations reveals a campaign that is methodical, patient, and geographically dispersed. Real eliminations have occurred across multiple Pakistani cities, from Karachi to Lahore, from Rawalpindi to smaller towns in Punjab and Sindh. The operatives, whoever they are, have employed firearms, typically handguns or close-range weapons, delivered from motorcycles or on foot. The targeting has concentrated on individuals with documented connections to organizations like Lashkar-e-Taiba and their affiliates. The complete chronological record shows a campaign that has accelerated over time, with the frequency of reported incidents increasing markedly in recent years.
When a real elimination occurs, the initial reporting cycle follows patterns that are recognizable from any breaking-news event anywhere in the world. Pakistani police arrive at the scene. Local media report the victim’s name, if known, and the basic circumstances: shot by unknown gunmen, typically riding a motorcycle, in a specific neighborhood at a specific time. Pakistani authorities open an investigation that, in the overwhelming majority of cases, produces no arrests and no official conclusions about the perpetrators’ identity or affiliation. The early hours of reporting are characterized by factual uncertainty, conflicting accounts from witnesses, and cautious language from both Pakistani and Indian news organizations.
This initial phase of factual reporting, however, is remarkably brief. Within hours, often within minutes, the second phase begins: the framing phase. And it is in this transition from factual reporting to narrative framing that Dhurandhar’s influence becomes unmistakable.
Indian television news operates in an intensely competitive environment. The major Hindi-language news channels, Republic Bharat, Aaj Tak, India TV, Zee News, Times Now Navbharat, and their English-language counterparts compete for viewership in a market where audience loyalty is thin and channel-switching is constant. The competitive pressure incentivizes dramatic presentation, emotional escalation, and narrative frameworks that viewers find immediately engaging. A dry factual report about an unidentified individual being shot on a street in Lahore does not hold viewers. A dramatic narrative about a shadow war operative executing a precision strike against a wanted terrorist, framed through familiar cinematic references, does. The commercial logic of Indian television news thus creates a structural incentive to adopt exactly the kind of entertainment framing that Dhurandhar provides.
During the 2025 India-Pakistan crisis, this commercial logic produced extreme results. News channels transformed their studios into war rooms, complete with air raid sirens buzzing through the speakers, helicopter and fighter jet graphics flying across backgrounds, and wall-mounted maps of Pakistan marked with target points. The Indian Ministry of Home Affairs was compelled to issue an advisory directing media outlets to stop using civil defense air raid siren sounds in their programs, warning that routine use of sirens might reduce civilian sensitivity to actual air raids. Channels including Aaj Tak and Zee News aired clips from Israeli strikes on Gaza while claiming the footage showed Indian military operations against Pakistani cities. Republic TV reported that the Indian Navy had destroyed Karachi’s busiest port. Times Now Navbharat claimed the Indian army was marching into Pakistani territory. ABP News and Zee News reported that Pakistan’s army chief had been detained. None of these claims were true. But all of them reflected the entertainment-inflected approach to conflict coverage that the Dhurandhar feedback loop had been normalizing for months before the crisis erupted: a preference for dramatic spectacle over verified fact, for cinematic narrative over journalistic accuracy, for audience engagement over informational integrity.
Kapil Komireddi, a political analyst who has written extensively about Indian media and politics, described some of this coverage as theater performed in a gutter. His assessment captures the fundamental tension that the Dhurandhar feedback loop has introduced into Indian journalism: the tension between the theatrical standards of entertainment, which prioritize emotional impact, and the professional standards of journalism, which prioritize factual accuracy. When entertainment standards colonize journalism, the result is coverage that is emotionally compelling but informationally unreliable, and the Dhurandhar feedback loop has provided the narrative infrastructure through which this colonization proceeds.
Across multiple media channels simultaneously, the framing phase manifests with remarkable speed. Television anchors shift from reporting confirmed facts to speculating about the operation’s significance, often using language drawn directly from the film’s vocabulary. Social media amplifies the framing at exponential speed. Twitter and Instagram users, many of whom watched the film in theaters just weeks or months earlier, post side-by-side comparisons of film scenes and news footage. Short video clips from Dhurandhar’s elimination sequences circulate with captions like “reel became real” or the Hindi equivalent. One documented pattern shows users extracting the exact frame from Dhurandhar that most closely matches the reported method of a real killing, creating a visual parallel that collapses the distance between fiction and fact into a single composite image. When reports emerged of a motorcycle-borne shooting in Lahore, users within hours had identified the corresponding motorcycle sequence from the film and created split-screen comparisons that went viral across Indian social media platforms.
The film’s soundtrack, detached from any film footage, is overlaid onto news clips of the aftermath at the crime scene, transforming a piece of crime journalism into something that looks and sounds like a movie trailer. Meme accounts produce content at industrial scale, combining still frames from the film with headlines from news reports, creating composite images that blend the fictional and the factual into a single visual product. Instagram reels have emerged as the dominant format for this composite content, with creators using the platform’s editing tools to synchronize Dhurandhar’s music with news footage in ways that are polished enough to resemble professional trailers. On YouTube, compilation channels have assembled collections of “Dhurandhar moments in real life,” splicing film clips with news footage into seamless narratives that present the shadow war as a continuation of the film’s plot rather than an independent geopolitical phenomenon.
The relationship between the motorcycle-borne operations depicted in the film and their real-world counterparts provides perhaps the most striking illustration of the convergence. Dhurandhar’s signature visual, two riders on a motorcycle approaching a target in a crowded urban environment, is also the most frequently reported modus operandi of the real shadow war. This overlap is not coincidental: Dhar researched the actual operational pattern when constructing his screenplay, meaning that the film’s depictions were informed by the reality they would later be used to frame. The circularity is significant. Reality informed fiction, and fiction now frames reality, creating a closed interpretive system in which each validates the other.
Speed is worth emphasizing in this transformation. In the era of smartphones and social media, the gap between a factual news report and its entertainment-framed reinterpretation has shrunk to minutes. A Pakistani television channel reports an unidentified man shot dead on a motorcycle in a Karachi neighborhood. The report is factual, tentative, and devoid of cinematic reference. Within fifteen minutes, Indian social media users have identified the victim as a wanted militant, connected the incident to the broader shadow war, posted Dhurandhar clips as commentary, and created a narrative that the news report itself never contained. By the time Indian television channels run their evening panel discussions, the Dhurandhar framing is already the dominant interpretive framework, and the factual report that initiated the cycle has been buried beneath layers of cinematic reference and nationalistic celebration.
The modus operandi analysis of covert eliminations reveals another dimension of the gap between real operations and their media representation. Real targeted killings are characterized by their ordinariness. A man walking to a mosque. Two individuals on a motorcycle pulling alongside. Gunshots. The motorcycle accelerating away. Bystanders confused, calling for help. Police arriving ten, fifteen, twenty minutes later. There is no cinematic music. There is no sepia filter. There is no lingering aerial shot. There is fear, noise, confusion, and a body on the pavement. The gap between this reality and the Dhurandhar-processed version that Indian audiences consume is vast, and the gap itself is significant because it determines how citizens understand, evaluate, and ultimately consent to the continuation of the campaign.
Pakistani media’s coverage of these events provides a revealing counterpoint. While Indian news channels frame the killings through the celebratory lens of Dhurandhar, Pakistani outlets frame the same events through lenses of sovereignty violation, security failure, or factional violence. Pakistani newspapers like Dawn, The News International, and Express Tribune typically report these incidents in their crime sections, using language that emphasizes the unknown identity of the assailants and the failure of local law enforcement to apprehend them. Television channels in Pakistan, including Geo News, ARY News, and Dunya News, cover the incidents with a focus on the security implications for Pakistani citizens and the state’s inability to protect individuals within its borders. Where Indian coverage celebrates the operation as evidence of national capability, Pakistani coverage mourns it as evidence of national vulnerability. Where Indian coverage names the victim as a terrorist whose death was deserved, Pakistani coverage often presents the victim as a citizen whose killing, regardless of their affiliations, represents a violation of Pakistani sovereignty by an unnamed foreign power.
The divergence between Indian and Pakistani media coverage extends beyond tone to fundamental framing decisions about what constitutes the relevant context for these events. Indian coverage positions each killing within the narrative of the shadow war: a systematic campaign to hold accountable the perpetrators of attacks against India. Pakistani coverage positions each killing within a different narrative: one of extrajudicial violence conducted by a foreign intelligence agency operating with impunity on Pakistani soil. Neither framing is neutral. Both serve national narratives. But only one framing, the Indian one, has a commercially validated entertainment product reinforcing it at every turn. The asymmetry in narrative infrastructure between the two countries’ media ecosystems produces an asymmetry in the vividness, emotional resonance, and cultural staying power of their respective framings. Indians who consume Dhurandhar-framed coverage remember specific eliminations because the entertainment overlay makes them memorable. Pakistanis who consume sovereignty-violation-framed coverage process the same events through a less cinematically reinforced framework, producing a different quality of public memory and a different intensity of public engagement.
This divergence is itself instructive: it reveals that the “reality” of a targeted killing is not self-evident. It is constructed by the media institutions that report it, and the construction is shaped by the narrative resources available to those institutions. Indian media has Dhurandhar. Pakistani media does not. The asymmetry in narrative resources produces an asymmetry in public understanding that may have consequences extending far beyond the entertainment value of a Bollywood film.
Where Film and Reality Converge
What connects Dhurandhar to news coverage of real targeted killings is not a single phenomenon. It is a cycle with identifiable stages, each of which can be traced, documented, and analyzed. Mapping this cycle is the central analytical contribution of this investigation, because the cycle’s structure explains why the loop is self-reinforcing: each revolution strengthens the association between fiction and fact, making the next revolution faster and more automatic.
Stage one of the cycle is the triggering event. A real targeted killing occurs in Pakistan. The victim is identified, often through Pakistani media reports, as an individual with ties to a designated militant organization. The circumstances, a shooting by unknown assailants, typically on a motorcycle, in a Pakistani city, immediately evoke the operational pattern documented across the shadow war. The triggering event is factual. It occurred. Someone died. The facts are independently verifiable through multiple Pakistani news sources, police reports, and sometimes hospital records.
Recognition constitutes the second stage. Indian journalists, social media users, and intelligence commentators recognize the event as fitting the shadow war pattern. This recognition happens rapidly because the pattern is by now well-established and well-documented. The complete timeline of targeted killings provides the reference database against which new events are assessed. If the victim matches a known profile, if the location fits the geographic distribution, if the method matches the established modus operandi, the event is categorized, almost instantaneously, as a shadow war elimination rather than a random act of violence.
Stage three is the Dhurandhar overlay, and it is the critical juncture. This is the critical stage where entertainment framing supplants factual reporting. The recognition that a real event matches the shadow war pattern triggers an automatic association with Dhurandhar, because the film depicted exactly this type of operation with maximum commercial impact. The overlay operates through multiple channels simultaneously. Television news producers select Dhurandhar clips to run alongside their coverage, creating visual juxtapositions that explicitly link the film to the real event. Social media users share Dhurandhar stills with captions referencing the real killing. Journalists use the phrase that has become the definitive vocabulary for these events, the very terminology that the film introduced into public discourse. The overlay is not subtle. It is deliberate, visible, and celebrated by both producers and consumers of the content.
Amplification constitutes the fourth stage. The Dhurandhar-framed content, because it is more emotionally engaging than factual reporting, achieves vastly greater distribution than the original news report. Memes travel further than wire reports. Film clips overlaid with news headlines generate more engagement than straightforward news articles. Television segments that reference Dhurandhar attract higher viewership than segments that do not. The amplification is driven by both algorithmic preference, social media platforms promote content that generates engagement, and audience preference, viewers are more likely to share content that confirms their existing emotional framework. The result is that the Dhurandhar-framed version of the event reaches a larger audience than the factual version, and for many consumers, the Dhurandhar-framed version is the only version they encounter.
Absorption marks the fifth stage. The Dhurandhar-framed event is absorbed into the broader cultural narrative of the shadow war, where it reinforces the film’s original message. Each real elimination that is processed through the Dhurandhar template validates the film’s depiction. If real operations look like Dhurandhar, then Dhurandhar must have been accurate. And if Dhurandhar was accurate, then its moral framework, its celebration of covert violence, its presentation of institutional competence, its dismissal of legal and ethical complexity, must also be accurate. The absorption stage is where the feedback loop’s most consequential work occurs, because it is here that entertainment framing shapes not merely perception but judgment. Citizens who process real events through the Dhurandhar template are not merely being entertained. They are being educated in a particular interpretation of state violence, one that the film’s commercial success has pre-validated.
Anticipation defines the sixth and final stage. Having processed multiple real events through the Dhurandhar template, audiences come to expect and desire the next iteration. When periods pass without a reported elimination, some social media users express impatience. When a new elimination occurs, the response is immediate and enthusiastic precisely because the audience was already waiting for it. The anticipation stage transforms the feedback loop from a reactive process into a proactive one. Audiences are no longer merely processing events through the Dhurandhar framework after they occur. They are actively looking for events that fit the framework, scanning news from Pakistan for incidents that match the pattern, and responding with heightened engagement when they find one.
This six-stage cycle operates continuously. Each complete revolution reinforces the associations that power the next revolution. The loop has no natural stopping point, no built-in mechanism for self-correction or self-limitation. As long as real targeted killings continue to occur in Pakistan, and as long as Dhurandhar’s cultural presence remains strong, the cycle will continue to spin, each revolution binding fiction and fact more tightly together.
Specific instances illustrate the cycle’s operation with instructive clarity. When reports emerged of a founding member of a major militant organization being shot dead in Lahore, social media reactions overwhelmingly featured images of Ranveer Singh from the film. News commentators described the killing using vocabulary borrowed from the film. The feedback loop transformed a targeted killing with genuine strategic significance into a cultural event, a moment of collective national entertainment rather than a moment for sober reflection on the implications of covert operations on foreign soil. M9 News explicitly noted that social media responses to the killing were dominated by projections of Ranveer Singh’s image from the film, confirming that the fictional character had become inseparable from the real operations being conducted.
Television panel discussions further illustrate the convergence. Indian news channels routinely invite panels of defense analysts, retired military officers, and political commentators to discuss reported shadow war events. These panels operate within the Dhurandhar-informed framework even when panelists do not explicitly reference the film. The vocabulary of the discussion, the assumptions about operational competence, the moral certainty about the campaign’s justification, the triumphalist tone, all echo the film’s emotional register rather than the measured language of intelligence analysis. Shekhar Gupta, editor of The Print and one of India’s most experienced journalists, has observed how entertainment framing shapes journalistic standards in ways that are difficult for individual journalists to resist when the audience overwhelmingly prefers the entertainment-framed version.
The convergence extends to print and digital journalism as well. Headlines in major Indian publications regularly employ formulations that echo the film’s language. Feature articles about the shadow war adopt narrative techniques, including scene-setting, character development, and dramatic arc construction, that are borrowed from cinematic storytelling rather than journalistic convention. The distinction between a news article and a film review begins to blur when both products employ the same vocabulary, the same moral framework, and the same emotional trajectory. A reader encountering a long-form article about a targeted killing in a reputable Indian publication might find the prose indistinguishable from a plot summary of a Dhurandhar sequence, and this indistinguishability is itself evidence of how deeply the feedback loop has penetrated Indian journalism.
International coverage presents a stark contrast that throws the Indian feedback loop into sharp relief. When Western news outlets cover the same events, their framing draws on entirely different narrative resources. There is no Dhurandhar reference. There is no celebratory tone. The language is cautious, hedged, attentive to competing claims. The coverage is situated within frameworks of international law, sovereignty concerns, and regional stability analysis. Reuters, the Associated Press, and the BBC report these incidents using the language of crime journalism and diplomatic analysis rather than the language of cinematic triumph. NPR’s coverage of India-Pakistan media dynamics during the 2025 crisis documented how some Indian TV channels ran unverified claims as breaking news, with Republic TV reporting that the Indian Navy destroyed Karachi’s port and Times Now Navbharat claiming the Indian army was marching into Pakistan. Neither claim was true, but both reflected the entertainment-inflected approach to conflict coverage that the Dhurandhar feedback loop had normalized: a preference for dramatic narrative over verified fact, for cinematic spectacle over journalistic rigor.
The gap between Western and Indian coverage of the same event, while partly attributable to geopolitical perspective, is also attributable to the presence or absence of a dominant entertainment framing. Indian journalists operate in a media ecosystem where Dhurandhar is a shared reference point. Western journalists do not. The difference in framing demonstrates that the feedback loop is not a natural or inevitable consequence of the events being covered. It is a culturally specific phenomenon, produced by the intersection of a particular film with a particular national mood at a particular historical moment.
The feedback loop’s operation can also be traced through the evolution of hashtag usage on social media platforms during and after reported shadow war events. Initial hashtags following a reported killing tend to be factual: the victim’s name, the city, or generic news tags. Within minutes, these factual hashtags are overtaken by entertainment-derived hashtags that reference the film, its characters, or its dialogue. Monitoring platforms have shown that the Dhurandhar-associated hashtags consistently generate higher engagement than the factual hashtags, creating an algorithmic incentive for platforms to promote the entertainment-framed content over the factual content. The result is a digital environment in which a user searching for information about a specific event is more likely to encounter the Dhurandhar-framed version than the factual version, not because the platform has made an editorial judgment but because its engagement-maximization algorithm has detected that entertainment-framed content produces more clicks, shares, and comments than factual reporting.
Print media’s relationship with the feedback loop operates through a different mechanism than television or social media but produces analogous results. Major Indian newspapers and digital publications must compete for readership in an environment where the Dhurandhar framing has already shaped audience expectations. A newspaper article about a targeted killing that does not reference the cultural context, that does not acknowledge the Dhurandhar parallel that readers are already thinking about, risks appearing out of touch with its audience. Editors face the choice between maintaining traditional journalistic distance from entertainment references and acknowledging the cultural reality that their readers consume news through the Dhurandhar template. Many publications have adopted a hybrid approach: using straightforward news language in their reporting while incorporating Dhurandhar references in their opinion sections, social media promotions, and headline formulations. This hybrid approach satisfies both journalistic standards and audience expectations, but it also normalizes the presence of entertainment framing within news discourse, gradually eroding the boundary between the two domains.
Beyond coverage of individual killings, the feedback loop’s effects extend to broader analytical domains. It extends to broader analytical coverage of India-Pakistan relations, counter-terrorism policy, and intelligence capabilities. Think-tank reports, academic analyses, and policy discussions now operate in an environment where the Dhurandhar narrative is part of the background knowledge that authors assume their audiences possess. References to the film’s depictions appear in serious analytical publications, sometimes as convenient illustrations and sometimes as objects of analysis themselves, but always carrying the implicit acknowledgment that the film has become an inextricable part of how Indians understand the shadow war. When analysts at major research institutions discuss India’s covert capabilities, they must navigate an audience whose understanding has been shaped by the film’s confident depictions of institutional competence, and this navigational challenge itself demonstrates the feedback loop’s penetration into domains far removed from entertainment consumption.
Where Film and Reality Diverge
Part of the feedback loop’s power derives from the genuine similarities between Dhurandhar’s depictions and real events, but the divergences are equally revealing, and in many cases more consequential, because they represent the distortions that entertainment framing introduces into public understanding of the shadow war.
Certainty represents the most significant divergence. Dhurandhar’s operative knows exactly who his targets are, why they deserve to die, and what strategic objective their elimination serves. There is no ambiguity, no misidentification risk, no collateral damage concern. Every target in the film is unambiguously guilty. Every operation in the film is unambiguously successful. Every moral question in the film has an unambiguously correct answer. Real covert operations, by contrast, operate in environments saturated with uncertainty. The identity of the victim in a real targeted killing is sometimes disputed. The victim’s actual role within a militant organization may be less senior or less operationally significant than initial reports suggest. The circumstances of the killing may involve bystanders, witnesses, or collateral effects that complicate the clean narrative of surgical precision. Dhurandhar-framed coverage suppresses this uncertainty because the entertainment template has no room for it. A Dhurandhar-style narrative requires a confirmed target, a clean operation, and an unambiguous success. When real events are forced into this template, nuance is sacrificed, and the public loses access to the uncertainty that genuine intelligence analysis always preserves.
A second divergence concerns consequences. In Dhurandhar, eliminations have consequences that are uniformly positive for the protagonist’s side. Each successful operation weakens the enemy network, emboldens the intelligence establishment, and moves the overarching narrative toward its triumphant conclusion. Real eliminations produce consequences that are far more ambiguous. Removing a specific individual from a militant network may trigger leadership succession that produces a more radical replacement. It may prompt retaliatory attacks. It may complicate diplomatic relationships. It may generate domestic backlash within Pakistan that strengthens rather than weakens popular support for the very organizations being targeted. Dhurandhar-framed coverage presents each elimination as an unambiguous victory, but the strategic reality is more complex, and the failure to communicate that complexity to the public represents a genuine cost of the entertainment feedback loop.
The third divergence concerns scale and context. Dhurandhar’s narrative arc culminates in a dramatic climax that resolves the central conflict and provides emotional catharsis. Real covert campaigns do not have third acts. They do not build toward satisfying conclusions. They are ongoing, open-ended, and resistant to the kind of narrative closure that cinema demands. The feedback loop’s entertainment framing encourages audiences to treat each individual elimination as a dramatic climax, complete with the emotional release that accompanies a satisfying plot resolution. But the campaign is not a movie. It does not end when the credits roll. The next target is already being identified, the next operation already being planned, and the strategic questions that the campaign raises, about effectiveness, about proportionality, about long-term regional stability, remain perpetually unresolved. By providing catharsis without resolution, the feedback loop satisfies audiences emotionally while leaving them analytically impoverished.
A fourth divergence concerns the adversary’s perspective. Dhurandhar presents Pakistan as a monolithic entity: a state that shelters terrorists, a society that tolerates them, and a security establishment that is simultaneously complicit and incompetent. Real Pakistan is far more complex. Pakistani journalists, civil society organizations, and even some political figures have their own critical perspectives on the militant organizations operating within their borders. Pakistani victims of terrorism vastly outnumber Indian victims. The security establishment that Dhurandhar depicts as uniformly hostile has, at various points, cooperated with international counter-terrorism efforts and conducted its own operations against militant groups, albeit selectively and inconsistently. The feedback loop’s entertainment framing erases this complexity because the Dhurandhar template requires a simple adversary. A nuanced Pakistan does not fit the narrative, so nuance is discarded. The cost is borne by public understanding: Indians who consume only Dhurandhar-framed coverage of events in Pakistan have access to a caricature rather than a portrait, and caricatures make poor foundations for foreign policy judgment.
The fifth divergence is perhaps the most subtle and the most important: accountability. Dhurandhar’s operative is accountable to his handlers, who are accountable to the institution, which is accountable to the nation. The chain of accountability is clear, visible, and functional within the film’s narrative. In reality, the shadow war operates precisely because it exists outside conventional accountability structures. No government official has publicly claimed responsibility for the targeted killings. No intelligence agency has acknowledged conducting them. No parliamentary committee has publicly debated their legality, proportionality, or strategic wisdom. The operations exist in a space where accountability is structurally absent, and the feedback loop’s entertainment framing reinforces this absence by presenting the operations as self-justifying. If the operation looks like Dhurandhar, and Dhurandhar’s operations were justified, then the real operation must also be justified. The circular logic bypasses the accountability question entirely, and the public, conditioned by the feedback loop to process events through the entertainment template, does not notice the bypass because they are too busy celebrating the latest Dhurandhar moment.
The fact-check comparison between the film and reality documented numerous specific divergences between Dhurandhar’s depictions and verifiable facts. The film’s Karachi bears limited resemblance to the real city. Operational timelines are compressed for dramatic effect. Characters are composites rather than portrayals of identifiable individuals. Critical reception itself reflected the divergence between entertainment impact and factual grounding. Anuj Kumar of The Hindu described the film as an ambitious but overstretched espionage saga that “serves political interests.” Rahul Desai of The Hollywood Reporter India called it an “inert and distracted action thriller.” Uday Bhatia of Mint described it as “propaganda in service of a hawkish India, designed to flatter the ruling BJP leadership.” Anupama Chopra’s review for The Hollywood Reporter’s India YouTube channel was taken down after coordinated outrage from the film’s fans, prompting India’s Film Critics Guild to condemn “coordinated abuse, personal attacks on individual critics, and organised attempts to discredit their professional integrity.” The suppression of critical reviews is itself a feedback loop effect: when the entertainment template becomes the dominant framework for understanding state violence, criticism of the entertainment product is experienced by audiences as criticism of the state action it depicts, and the conflation of the two makes critical journalism about the film functionally dangerous.
These specific divergences matter less than the structural divergences described above, because specific factual errors can be individually corrected while structural distortions reshape the entire framework through which events are understood. A viewer who knows that Dhurandhar’s Karachi is inaccurate can still process real events through the film’s moral and emotional framework. The structural divergences are the ones that the feedback loop makes invisible, and their invisibility is precisely what makes them consequential.
The contrast between Dhurandhar’s confident narrative and the inherent ambiguity of real intelligence operations extends to the treatment of failure. Dhurandhar’s protagonist does not fail in ways that compromise the moral clarity of his mission. His setbacks are dramatic obstacles that he overcomes through courage and competence. Real intelligence operations fail in ways that are morally and strategically devastating: wrong targets, botched operations, intelligence compromises, diplomatic crises. These failures are not merely absent from Dhurandhar. They are structurally incompatible with the film’s narrative template. And because the feedback loop maps the film’s template onto real events, the failures are also absent from the public’s entertainment-framed understanding of the shadow war. Citizens who form their understanding of covert operations through the Dhurandhar feedback loop are citizens who do not know that these operations can fail, that they have failed, and that the costs of failure are borne by real people, including innocent bystanders, rather than by fictional characters who exist only on screen.
A sixth divergence concerns the portrayal of the operative’s inner life and moral complexity. Ranveer Singh’s character in Dhurandhar experiences moments of doubt, but those moments serve a narrative function: they make his ultimate commitment to the mission more dramatically satisfying. Real operatives, if they exist in the form the shadow war’s pattern suggests, operate under psychological pressures that a film cannot adequately represent within the constraints of commercial entertainment. Sustained undercover work in hostile territory, the accumulated moral weight of repeated acts of lethal violence, the isolation from family and support networks, the knowledge that capture means not dramatic rescue but real imprisonment or death: these pressures produce psychological consequences that Bollywood’s hero template cannot accommodate. By presenting the operative as a figure of resilience and clarity, Dhurandhar creates an archetype that the feedback loop then applies to real individuals whose actual psychological experience may be vastly different. Citizens who celebrate shadow war operatives as Dhurandhar-style heroes may be celebrating a fiction while remaining unaware of the human costs that covert operations impose on the individuals who conduct them.
A seventh divergence relates to timing and operational tempo. In Dhurandhar, operations unfold at a pace dictated by dramatic necessity: fast enough to maintain audience engagement, slow enough to build tension. Real covert operations unfold at a pace dictated by intelligence availability, security conditions, political calculations, and chance. Months or years of surveillance may precede a single action that lasts seconds. The feedback loop’s compression of this temporal reality into the film’s dramatic rhythm creates a public expectation of operational pace that may not match actual capability. When significant time passes between reported shadow war events, Dhurandhar-conditioned audiences may interpret the pause as inactivity rather than patience, creating political pressure for visible results that may not align with sound operational judgment. Conversely, when multiple events occur in quick succession, the entertainment template encourages audiences to interpret the acceleration as a planned campaign crescendo rather than a possible coincidence or a response to shifting conditions on the ground.
The divergence in how both the film and reality treat the cost of lives also reveals the entertainment framing’s most troubling distortion. Real targeted killings end real human lives. Whatever the target’s organizational affiliation or criminal history, the act of killing is irreversible, final, and freighted with moral weight. Dhurandhar’s treatment of killing is aesthetically compelling but morally weightless. The sepia-toned cinematography, the rhythmic editing, the triumphant soundtrack, all work to transform the act of killing from a morally significant event into an aesthetically satisfying one. When the feedback loop transfers this aesthetic treatment to real events, it performs the same transformation on real deaths, converting morally significant acts into entertainment content that audiences consume, enjoy, and share. Mihir Sharma of Bloomberg Opinion India has noted how the political economy of entertainment-framed news creates incentives for precisely this kind of moral transformation, because morally weightless content is more shareable, more engageable, and more commercially valuable than morally weighty content.
What the Comparison Reveals
Placing Dhurandhar’s fiction against the reality of its media afterlife reveals something more significant than either the film or the coverage could reveal in isolation. The comparison exposes a mechanism through which a democratic society processes, normalizes, and ultimately consents to covert state violence, not through parliamentary debate, judicial review, or informed public deliberation, but through entertainment consumption. The mechanism is the feedback loop itself, and its implications extend far beyond the specific case of Indian media coverage of targeted killings in Pakistan.
Democratic consent is the first and perhaps most fundamental implication. Democratic theory assumes that citizens consent to state actions through informed deliberation: they learn about government policies, evaluate them against their values and interests, and express their judgment through elections, public discourse, and institutional participation. The Dhurandhar feedback loop suggests an alternative pathway to consent that bypasses deliberation entirely. Citizens did not vote for the shadow war. No political party campaigned on a platform of covert targeted killings in Pakistan. No parliamentary motion authorized the campaign. Yet the campaign enjoys overwhelming public support, and that support was manufactured not in the halls of Parliament but in the multiplexes of Mumbai, Delhi, and Bangalore. Dhurandhar’s box office success functioned as a de facto referendum: 1,350 crore rupees in worldwide grosses representing hundreds of millions of viewers who voted with their wallets for a narrative that celebrates covert state violence. The feedback loop then converted that commercial vote into sustained political consent by ensuring that every real event was processed through the framework that audiences had already endorsed.
The nationalism debate surrounding the film touched on this issue but largely failed to resolve it, precisely because the question of whether Dhurandhar constitutes patriotic cinema or state propaganda misses the more fundamental point. The film’s political function does not depend on whether it was produced with government cooperation or independently. Its political function derives from the feedback loop it enables: a loop through which entertainment consumption substitutes for political deliberation as the mechanism through which citizens form judgments about covert state action.
Journalistic independence represents the second major implication. The feedback loop places Indian journalists in a structurally compromised position. A journalist covering a targeted killing in Pakistan has two options. The first is to produce a factual, nuanced, appropriately uncertain account of the event, acknowledging what is known, what is not known, and what remains contested. This option serves the public interest but attracts limited audience engagement in a market where viewers have been conditioned by the feedback loop to prefer entertainment-framed content. The second option is to adopt the Dhurandhar framing: dramatic language, cinematic references, celebratory tone, moral certainty. This option attracts audience engagement but sacrifices the journalistic values of accuracy, balance, and appropriate skepticism. The commercial incentives of Indian television news overwhelmingly favor the second option, and the result is a structural erosion of journalistic independence that individual journalists may resist but cannot reverse as long as the feedback loop continues to operate.
Dwaipayan Bose’s research at the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism documented how Indian and Pakistani media have been engaged in a proxy war that blurs factual coverage. His finding that “overly nationalistic posturing and jingoism lie at the heart” of this proxy war takes on additional weight when considered alongside the Dhurandhar feedback loop, because the loop provides jingoistic coverage with a narrative sophistication and emotional resonance that raw nationalism lacks. Jingoism dressed in Bollywood’s production values is more persuasive, more engaging, and more commercially successful than jingoism in its undressed form, and the feedback loop ensures that the dressed version is the one that reaches the largest audience.
The third implication concerns what political communication scholars call framing theory. Erving Goffman’s foundational work on frame analysis established that the way information is presented, its frame, shapes how audiences interpret it. Robert Entman later specified that framing involves selecting certain aspects of reality and making them more salient in communication, promoting particular problem definitions, causal interpretations, moral evaluations, and treatment recommendations. Dietram Scheufele’s process model of framing identified four key processes: frame building, frame setting, individual-level processes of framing, and a feedback loop from audiences to journalists. Scheufele’s model is directly relevant to the Dhurandhar phenomenon because it anticipates exactly the kind of audience-to-journalist feedback that the Dhurandhar loop produces: audiences conditioned by the film’s frame demand that journalists adopt it, and journalists, responsive to audience preferences in a competitive market, comply.
What makes the Dhurandhar case exceptional within framing theory is the source of the frame. Traditional framing research examines how journalists construct frames through editorial decisions about emphasis, language, and context. Entman’s two essential elements of framing, selection and salience, are typically exercised by journalists and editors who choose which aspects of an event to foreground and which to background. In the Dhurandhar case, the frame is not constructed by journalists at all. It is imported wholesale from a commercial entertainment product. Journalists adopt it because audiences demand it, and audiences demand it because the film pre-loaded the frame with emotional resonance and moral certainty that no journalist could independently construct. This reversal of the traditional frame-building direction, from entertainment to journalism rather than from journalism to entertainment, represents a structural shift in how frames enter public discourse, and it has implications that extend beyond the India-Pakistan context to any media environment where commercially dominant entertainment products depict real-world conflicts.
Research on news framing in complex information environments has demonstrated that framing effects can be limited to preference-based reinforcement in fragmented media landscapes: viewers select content that confirms their prior views, and the resulting framing effects reinforce existing beliefs rather than changing them. Applied to the Dhurandhar loop, this finding suggests that the feedback loop may function primarily as a reinforcement mechanism for audiences who already support the shadow war, rather than as a persuasion mechanism that converts skeptics. If this is the case, the loop’s political significance may be less about opinion formation and more about opinion intensification: it does not create support for covert operations, but it makes existing support more emotionally intense, more culturally entrenched, and more resistant to challenge.
The fourth implication concerns international perception. When Dhurandhar-framed coverage of targeted killings circulates on social media platforms with global reach, it shapes how international audiences perceive India’s counter-terror posture. The Columbia Journalism Review’s analysis of the fog of war in India-Pakistan media coverage noted how Indian media’s entertainment-inflected approach to conflict reporting shapes global narratives in ways that may not serve India’s long-term diplomatic interests. Reporters Without Borders’ World Press Freedom Index, which placed India at a position reflecting significant concerns about media independence and government influence over editorial decisions, gains additional context when considered alongside the Dhurandhar feedback loop. The loop does not merely reflect government influence; it creates a system in which media voluntarily adopts government-aligned narratives because audiences prefer them, producing the appearance of independent editorial choice while generating outcomes functionally identical to those a directed propaganda system would produce.
Mitali Mukherjee, director of the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism at Oxford University, has observed that the influence of government and pro-government business interests over Indian media has accompanied a deterioration of press freedom. Her analysis gains particular relevance when applied to the Dhurandhar feedback loop, because the loop demonstrates a mechanism through which press freedom can be functionally constrained without explicit government censorship. Journalists remain free to produce unframed, factual coverage, but the commercial incentives of the market, amplified by the feedback loop’s influence on audience expectations, make factual coverage economically unviable for many outlets. The constraint is market-driven rather than state-imposed, but its effects on the information environment are comparable.
The fifth implication, and perhaps the most consequential, concerns the feedback loop’s self-reinforcing nature and its resistance to correction. Traditional media distortions can be corrected through fact-checking, editorial oversight, regulatory intervention, or competitive pressure from more accurate outlets. The Dhurandhar feedback loop resists all of these corrective mechanisms because it is not experienced as a distortion by its participants. Audiences do not feel that they are being misled when they process real events through the Dhurandhar template. They feel that they are being given access to a deeper truth, one that factual reporting is too cautious to articulate. The film validated the emotional and moral framework before the real events occurred, so when real events confirm the framework, audiences experience the confirmation as vindication rather than distortion. This experiential dimension makes the feedback loop exceptionally durable: it can survive factual correction because its persuasive power derives not from factual accuracy but from emotional resonance.
There is, however, a complication that this analysis must honestly address. The feedback loop may be driven as much by audience demand as by media strategy. Indian audiences may not be passive recipients of entertainment-framed coverage. They may be active consumers who seek out Dhurandhar-framed content because it provides an emotionally satisfying framework for understanding events that are otherwise confusing, frightening, or morally ambiguous. If the demand side drives the loop as much as the supply side, then the conventional critique of media manipulation may be insufficient. The loop may represent not a failure of journalism but a democratic choice by audiences who prefer entertainment-framed understanding to analytically rigorous understanding. This interpretation does not make the loop less consequential, but it does make it harder to correct, because corrective interventions that target media supply (editorial standards, regulatory oversight) cannot address audience demand for entertainment framing.
Comparing Dhurandhar-framed coverage with unframed coverage of the same events reveals one additional finding worth noting: Dhurandhar-framed coverage actually contains less factual detail than unframed coverage, not more. The entertainment framework compresses complex events into simple narratives, discarding the details that do not fit the template: the uncertain identity of the victim, the ambiguous circumstances of the killing, the contested claims about who conducted it and why, the potential consequences for regional stability. Factual coverage preserves these details precisely because they resist narrative simplification. The feedback loop thus creates a paradox: the version of events that feels more vivid, more real, more emotionally true, is actually less factually detailed than the version that feels dry, distant, and unsatisfying. Audiences who prefer the Dhurandhar-framed version are choosing emotional resonance over informational richness, and the cumulative effect of that choice, repeated across dozens of real events, is a public that feels deeply informed about the shadow war while actually knowing less about its operational, legal, and strategic dimensions than they would have known without the film’s influence.
Something specific about the character of Indian nationalism in the post-Pahalgam era. The 26/11 Mumbai attack produced a nationalism of grief and anger. The surgical strikes of 2016 produced a nationalism of assertion. Dhurandhar and its feedback loop have produced a nationalism of entertainment: a nationalism that processes state violence as content, consumes it with pleasure, and shares it for engagement. This entertainment nationalism is arguably more durable than its predecessors because it is self-sustaining. Grief-driven nationalism fades as grief fades. Assertion-driven nationalism requires periodic demonstrations of state power to maintain intensity. Entertainment-driven nationalism requires only the next episode, the next clip, the next meme, and the feedback loop ensures that each real event provides exactly that.
Institutional dimensions of the feedback loop deserve separate consideration. Indian news organizations are not monolithic entities responding uniformly to the Dhurandhar phenomenon. Within each newsroom, there are journalists, editors, and producers with varying perspectives on the appropriate relationship between entertainment references and news coverage. Some newsrooms have explicitly discussed internal guidelines about the use of film references in news coverage, while others have not. The absence of industry-wide standards for managing the entertainment-news interface means that the feedback loop’s influence varies significantly across outlets, with some channels embracing the Dhurandhar framing enthusiastically and others maintaining greater distance. This variation creates a heterogeneous information environment in which audiences can theoretically access different qualities of coverage, but in practice, the entertainment-framed outlets consistently capture larger audiences, creating economic pressure that pushes even more restrained outlets toward the Dhurandhar template over time.
Advertising revenue dynamics further reinforce the feedback loop’s institutional embeddedness. Advertisers in the Indian television market purchase time slots based on viewership numbers. Segments that employ Dhurandhar framing consistently attract higher viewership than segments that do not, making Dhurandhar-framed coverage more commercially valuable to the networks that produce it. This commercial premium creates a direct financial incentive for entertainment framing that operates independently of editorial judgment, political pressure, or audience demand. Even if individual journalists, editors, or producers prefer factual coverage, the economic structure of Indian television news rewards entertainment framing, and over time, economic incentives reshape editorial practices more reliably than professional norms or institutional values.
Regional language media adds another layer of complexity to the feedback loop’s operation. While the phenomenon is most visible in Hindi-language and English-language national media, regional language outlets in states like Maharashtra, Gujarat, Tamil Nadu, and Karnataka have developed their own localized versions of the Dhurandhar framing, translating the film’s Hindi-language vocabulary into regional equivalents and adapting its visual references for local audiences. Regional news channels, which command significant viewership in their respective markets, often amplify the national feedback loop while adding regional inflections that increase its cultural resonance among local audiences. A Tamil-language news channel covering a targeted killing in Pakistan may reference Dhurandhar using Tamil commentary and local cultural comparisons, making the entertainment framing accessible to viewers who may not have watched the Hindi-language film but have absorbed its cultural significance through the regional media ecosystem.
Digital-native news platforms have developed a particularly symbiotic relationship with the feedback loop. Outlets that exist primarily on social media platforms, including YouTube news channels, Instagram news accounts, and Twitter-based news commentators, are structurally incentivized to maximize engagement. For these outlets, Dhurandhar framing is not merely an optional stylistic choice but an economic necessity, because their survival depends on algorithmic visibility, and algorithmic visibility depends on engagement metrics that entertainment-framed content consistently outperforms factual reporting in generating. Several prominent digital news creators have built substantial audiences specifically by specializing in Dhurandhar-framed coverage of shadow war events, creating a professional niche that did not exist before the film’s release and that now sustains a small but visible segment of India’s digital media economy.
The Pakistan reaction to the film further illuminates the feedback loop’s significance. Pakistan banned Dhurandhar precisely because Pakistani authorities recognized the film’s potential to function as a narrative weapon. The ban itself, however, was powerless to prevent the feedback loop from operating, because the loop runs on Indian media platforms that Pakistani censors cannot reach. Pakistani audiences who watched pirated copies of the film experienced it as entertainment. Indian audiences who watched the film in theaters and then consumed Dhurandhar-framed news coverage experienced it as a continuously reinforced reality. The asymmetry between these experiences, entertainment for one audience and reality-construction for the other, captures the feedback loop’s most fundamental characteristic: it transforms fiction into a lens through which reality is perceived, and in doing so, it transforms the audience from spectators into participants in a national narrative whose relationship to actual events is mediated, filtered, and shaped by a three-and-a-half-hour film that grossed over a thousand crore rupees.
The ranking of Bollywood counter-terror films places Dhurandhar at the apex of a genre evolution that has tracked India’s own strategic trajectory. Baby introduced the operational thriller format. Phantom explored covert revenge across borders. Dhurandhar perfected both and added commercial scale. The feedback loop is the natural endpoint of this evolution: a point at which a film genre becomes so culturally dominant that it shapes the media coverage of the real events it depicts. Previous films in the genre did not produce comparable feedback loops because they lacked Dhurandhar’s combination of commercial scale, narrative specificity, and political timing. Dhurandhar arrived in theaters at the precise moment when India’s shadow war was generating a steady stream of events that fit the film’s template, and the synchronization between film release and real-world events created the conditions for the loop to form and self-reinforce.
Whether this feedback loop serves or undermines Indian democracy remains a genuinely contested question. Those who argue it serves democracy point to its function as a public discourse enabler: without the Dhurandhar vocabulary, the shadow war would be discussed only in elite security circles, inaccessible to ordinary citizens. Before the film existed, India’s covert operations in Pakistan were the subject of specialized intelligence analyses, academic papers read by dozens of scholars, and occasional news reports that drew modest public attention. After Dhurandhar, these same operations became the subject of mass public conversation, debated in tea stalls and office canteens, discussed at family dinners, and referenced in casual social media interactions among millions of users. The film and its feedback loop democratized discussion of covert operations by providing a shared language and a shared narrative framework that citizens from vastly different educational, economic, and regional backgrounds could access and participate in.
Those who argue it undermines democracy point to the quality of that discussion: a discourse dominated by entertainment framing, devoid of factual nuance, and structurally incapable of generating critical scrutiny of state action. Democratizing discussion is valuable only if the discussion itself is substantive, and the feedback loop ensures that it is not. When citizens debate the shadow war using vocabulary borrowed from a film, they are debating a fictional representation of the campaign rather than the campaign itself. When they celebrate each reported elimination as a Dhurandhar moment, they are performing a cultural ritual rather than exercising democratic judgment. When they share memes and film clips as commentary on state violence, they are consuming entertainment rather than holding their government accountable. Accessibility without accuracy is not democratic deliberation; it is an illusion of deliberation that substitutes emotional satisfaction for informed participation. Both arguments have merit. The feedback loop has undeniably made the shadow war a subject of mass public conversation, reaching audiences that would never have engaged with a policy white paper or an academic monograph on covert operations. It has equally undeniably shaped that conversation in ways that favor celebration over scrutiny, emotional satisfaction over analytical rigor, and narrative closure over the open-ended questioning that effective democratic oversight requires. Neither argument fully captures the reality, which is that the feedback loop simultaneously expands the quantity of public engagement while constraining its quality, producing a paradox in which more citizens discuss covert operations with less analytical depth than at any previous point in India’s democratic history.
The question cannot be resolved here, but it can be sharpened. The Dhurandhar feedback loop is not merely a media phenomenon. It is a political phenomenon with consequences for how India conducts, evaluates, and sustains its most consequential covert campaign. Understanding the loop’s mechanics, its stages, its divergences from factual reality, and its implications for democratic accountability is not an academic exercise. It is a civic necessity for any Indian citizen who wants to form an informed judgment about what is being done in their name, by their intelligence apparatus, on the streets of a neighboring country’s cities.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: How does Indian media use Dhurandhar to frame real killings?
Indian television channels, digital news platforms, and social media users employ multiple techniques to overlay Dhurandhar’s narrative framework onto real targeted killings in Pakistan. Television producers select film clips to run alongside breaking news footage, creating visual juxtapositions that explicitly link fictional depictions to real events. Anchors use vocabulary drawn from the film during panel discussions, often referencing specific scenes or character archetypes to contextualize reported eliminations. Social media users create composite content that blends film stills with news headlines, overlay the film’s soundtrack onto news clips, and share memes that treat real operations as continuations of the film’s plot. The cumulative effect is that many Indian consumers encounter real events pre-framed through the film’s cinematic template before they encounter the underlying factual reporting, if they encounter the factual reporting at all.
Q: What is the Dhurandhar-reality feedback loop?
The feedback loop is a six-stage cycle through which entertainment framing and real events mutually reinforce each other. A real targeted killing triggers the cycle. Indian media and social media users recognize the event as fitting the shadow war pattern. Dhurandhar imagery, vocabulary, and music are overlaid onto the factual reporting. The entertainment-framed version achieves greater distribution than the factual version through algorithmic and audience preference. The event is absorbed into the cultural narrative of the shadow war, reinforcing the film’s original message. Audiences then anticipate the next event, pre-loaded with the Dhurandhar framework. Each complete revolution of the cycle strengthens the association between fiction and fact, making the next revolution faster and more automatic. The loop has no natural stopping point and resists conventional corrective mechanisms.
Q: Do TV news anchors reference Dhurandhar during their coverage?
Multiple Indian television channels have referenced the film during coverage of reported targeted killings. The references range from explicit, with anchors naming the film and drawing direct comparisons, to implicit, with anchors adopting the film’s vocabulary, moral framework, and celebratory tone without naming it directly. Panel discussions on channels competing for viewership in the Hindi-language news market often feature retired military officers and intelligence commentators whose analysis employs the same emotional register and moral certainty that characterizes the film’s narrative. The competitive dynamics of Indian television news incentivize these references because Dhurandhar-framed content attracts higher viewership than factual reporting presented without the entertainment overlay.
Q: Does the Dhurandhar framing add or remove factual detail from coverage?
Analysis of Dhurandhar-framed coverage compared with unframed coverage of the same events reveals that the entertainment framework actually reduces factual detail. The Dhurandhar template requires a clean narrative: a confirmed target, a successful operation, an unambiguous outcome. Details that complicate this narrative, including uncertainty about the victim’s identity, ambiguity about the operation’s circumstances, contested claims about responsibility, and potential negative consequences, are suppressed because they do not fit the template. The result is coverage that feels more vivid and emotionally satisfying but contains less factual information than coverage produced without the entertainment overlay. Audiences choosing Dhurandhar-framed content are trading informational richness for emotional resonance.
Q: When did Indian media first start using Dhurandhar framing for real events?
The first documented instances of Dhurandhar framing in coverage of real targeted killings appeared within days of the film’s theatrical release. Social media users were the earliest adopters, posting side-by-side comparisons and overlaying the film’s soundtrack onto news footage. Television channels followed within the first week, incorporating film clips into their coverage of breaking reports from Pakistan. The adoption curve accelerated as the film’s box office success grew, creating a self-reinforcing cycle in which the film’s commercial dominance increased its cultural availability as a framing resource, which in turn increased its adoption by news producers seeking audience engagement. Within weeks of release, the Dhurandhar framing had become the default interpretive framework for shadow war coverage on most major Indian news platforms.
Q: Does the feedback loop affect public understanding of the shadow war?
The feedback loop shapes public understanding in multiple measurable ways. It creates an impression of operational certainty that exceeds what factual reporting supports. It suppresses awareness of the legal, diplomatic, and ethical complexities surrounding covert targeted killings on foreign soil. It presents each individual elimination as a self-contained dramatic climax rather than one event in an ongoing campaign whose long-term consequences remain uncertain. It erases the adversary’s complexity, replacing a nuanced understanding of Pakistan’s domestic politics, security dynamics, and civil society with the monolithic hostile entity that the film’s narrative requires. Citizens whose primary exposure to the shadow war comes through Dhurandhar-framed coverage develop strong opinions about the campaign, overwhelmingly supportive opinions, that rest on an informational foundation that is emotionally rich but factually thin.
Q: Do other countries have similar entertainment-news feedback loops?
Historical parallels exist but none matches the Dhurandhar feedback loop’s combination of scale and specificity. American coverage of the war on terror was influenced by Hollywood productions like Zero Dark Thirty, but the feedback loop was less tightly synchronized because the film arrived years after the events it depicted. Israeli media coverage of targeted killing operations has been influenced by films and television series about Mossad, but the scale of the Israeli entertainment industry limits the loop’s reach. The Dhurandhar case is distinctive because the film arrived at a moment when the real operations it depicted were actively ongoing, creating a real-time synchronization between entertainment production and security operations that produced an unusually tight and self-reinforcing feedback loop. Bollywood’s massive audience reach within India further distinguishes this case, as no other entertainment industry commands comparable cultural influence over a comparable population size.
Q: Is the Dhurandhar feedback loop a form of propaganda?
The answer depends on one’s definition of propaganda. If propaganda requires intentional coordination between the state and the content producer, then the feedback loop may not qualify, because there is no publicly documented evidence that the Indian government coordinated with Dhurandhar’s producers to create the feedback loop effect. If propaganda is defined more broadly as any systematic process through which public opinion is shaped to support state action, then the feedback loop functions as propaganda regardless of whether it was intentionally designed. The loop systematically shapes public opinion in favor of the shadow war, suppresses critical scrutiny of the campaign, and converts entertainment consumption into political consent. Whether this outcome was intended or emergent does not change its effects, and the effects are functionally indistinguishable from what a deliberately designed propaganda campaign would produce.
Q: How does Dhurandhar framing differ from standard news framing?
Standard news framing involves journalistic choices about which aspects of an event to emphasize, what context to provide, and what language to use. These choices are made by journalists and editors operating within professional norms that prioritize accuracy, balance, and public interest. Dhurandhar framing involves the adoption of an entertainment product’s narrative template as the primary framework for news coverage. The frame is not built by journalists. It is imported from a commercial film and applied to real events. This distinction matters because standard news framing is subject to professional critique, editorial oversight, and competitive correction by other outlets. Dhurandhar framing resists these corrective mechanisms because it is not experienced as a journalistic choice but as a cultural reference that audiences expect and demand. A journalist who resists the Dhurandhar frame risks losing audience share without gaining professional recognition, because the professional incentive structure of Indian news media rewards engagement over accuracy.
Q: Has the feedback loop influenced political discourse about the shadow war?
Political discourse has been shaped by the feedback loop in ways that are visible across the ideological spectrum. Ruling party politicians have referenced the film in the context of national security discussions, treating its commercial success as evidence of public support for muscular counter-terrorism policies. Opposition politicians have been constrained in their ability to critique the shadow war because the feedback loop has made support for the campaign culturally normative. Criticizing operations that are framed through the Dhurandhar template risks being perceived as criticizing the film, its star, and by extension the patriotic sentiment that the film represents. The political space for dissent on shadow war policy has been compressed by the feedback loop, because the loop has converted a policy question into a cultural identity question, and cultural identity questions are harder to debate than policy questions.
Q: Does Pakistan have its own version of the Dhurandhar feedback loop?
Pakistan has attempted to create counter-narratives through its own entertainment productions, but these efforts have not produced a comparable feedback loop for several reasons. Pakistani entertainment industry lacks Bollywood’s production values, commercial reach, and cultural penetration. Pakistani television dramas and films have occasionally depicted India’s intelligence agencies in adversarial terms, but these productions have been widely mocked on Indian social media for their low production budgets, melodramatic dialogue, and unintentionally comedic portrayals of RAW officials. When a Pakistani television series attempted to depict RAW operations with dialogue in heavily accented Hindi, Indian viewers shared clips as comedic content rather than taking the narrative seriously, effectively neutralizing the counter-narrative by converting it into entertainment of a different kind. Javed Sheikh’s portrayal of a RAW chief, complete with declarations about destabilizing Pakistan and playing “Holi with enemy’s blood,” became a meme on Indian social media platforms rather than a persuasive counter-narrative on Pakistani ones. This asymmetry between the two countries’ entertainment industries creates an asymmetry in narrative capability: India can project its counter-terror narrative through a commercially validated, aesthetically sophisticated entertainment product, while Pakistan’s counter-narrative products are treated as parodies rather than persuasive alternatives. This narrative asymmetry compounds the operational asymmetry of the shadow war itself, creating a situation where India holds advantage in both the physical and the informational dimensions of the conflict. Even Pakistani audiences have demonstrated interest in Dhurandhar, with pirated copies circulating in Lahore and other cities within hours of the sequel’s release, suggesting that India’s narrative product reaches across the border even when Pakistan’s formal ban attempts to prevent it.
Q: What role does social media play in the feedback loop?
Social media platforms function as the feedback loop’s primary amplification engine. The platforms’ algorithmic preference for engaging content over accurate content means that Dhurandhar-framed content, which is more emotionally engaging, receives greater distribution than factual reporting. User-generated content, including memes, video remixes, and commentary, extends the loop’s reach far beyond what television and print media could achieve alone. The speed of social media content creation means that the Dhurandhar overlay is applied to real events within minutes of initial reporting, often before television channels have prepared their own coverage. Social media also enables the anticipation stage of the loop, as users express expectations and excitement about future events, creating a state of perpetual readiness for the next iteration of the cycle. Without social media, the feedback loop would exist but operate more slowly and reach fewer people.
Q: Can the feedback loop be broken or corrected?
Conventional media correction mechanisms, including fact-checking, editorial standards, and regulatory intervention, are insufficient to break the feedback loop because the loop is not experienced as a distortion by its participants. Audiences consuming Dhurandhar-framed content do not feel misinformed. They feel informed in a way that resonates emotionally, and emotional resonance is more persuasive than factual correction. The loop could theoretically be weakened by the fading of Dhurandhar’s cultural relevance, but the sequel extending the franchise suggests the opposite trajectory. It could be weakened by a cessation of real events that fit the template, but the shadow war’s continuation provides a steady supply of triggering events. It could be weakened by sustained journalistic commitment to unframed, factual coverage, but the commercial incentives of Indian news media work against this commitment. The most realistic assessment is that the loop will continue to operate as long as both its components, the entertainment product and the real events, remain active.
Q: How does Dhurandhar framing affect coverage of failed or botched operations?
One of the feedback loop’s most consequential distortions is its suppression of failure narratives. The Dhurandhar template has no space for operations that go wrong, targets that are misidentified, bystanders who are harmed, or operatives who are captured. When real events deviate from the template’s clean narrative of surgical precision and unambiguous success, Dhurandhar-framed coverage either ignores the deviation or reinterprets it to fit the template. Reports of potential misidentification are downplayed. Collateral consequences are omitted. The result is a public record that systematically overrepresents success and underrepresents failure, creating a distorted impression of the shadow war’s operational track record that may influence both public opinion and policy decisions.
Q: Is the feedback loop unique to Dhurandhar or part of a broader trend?
The Dhurandhar feedback loop is the most prominent and well-documented instance of an entertainment-news feedback loop in Indian media, but it exists within a broader trend of Bollywood’s increasing influence on political and security discourse. Uri: The Surgical Strike, directed by the same filmmaker, influenced how the 2016 surgical strikes were discussed. The Kashmir Files influenced discourse about the Kashmiri Pandit exodus. Each film contributed to a pattern in which commercially successful entertainment products provide the narrative templates through which real events are understood. Dhurandhar represents the pattern’s most developed form because it arrived at the moment of maximum synchronization between entertainment production and real security operations, and because its commercial success was the largest in the genre’s history, giving its narrative template the widest cultural reach.
Q: What specific Dhurandhar scenes are most commonly referenced in media coverage?
The motorcycle-borne elimination sequences are the most frequently referenced, because they most closely match the documented pattern of real targeted killings. The scenes in which the protagonist surveys a target’s location and routine before executing the strike are also commonly referenced, because they support the narrative of intelligence precision that audiences find appealing. The film’s scenes of cross-border coordination between field operatives and headquarters are referenced in the context of institutional capability discussions. Less commonly but significantly, the film’s climactic confrontation scenes are invoked when particularly high-profile targets are reported eliminated, with social media users framing such events as “boss level” moments in a narrative arc that mirrors the film’s dramatic structure.
Q: How do Indian print journalists navigate the pressure to adopt Dhurandhar framing?
Indian print and digital journalists operate under competing pressures. Professional norms favor factual, nuanced, appropriately skeptical reporting. Commercial pressures favor engagement-maximizing content that employs familiar narrative frameworks. The Dhurandhar feedback loop intensifies this tension because the entertainment-framed version of events consistently outperforms the factually rigorous version in audience metrics. Some journalists navigate this pressure by incorporating Dhurandhar references in headlines and social media promotions while maintaining factual rigor in the body of their reporting, effectively using the entertainment frame as a distribution mechanism for serious journalism. Others adopt the entertainment frame wholesale, producing content that is indistinguishable from film commentary. The resulting landscape is heterogeneous, with the quality of coverage varying significantly across outlets and individual journalists, but the overall trend favors the entertainment frame because the commercial incentives are overwhelmingly aligned with audience engagement rather than informational accuracy.
Q: Does the feedback loop affect how young Indians understand covert operations?
For Indian citizens who came of political age during or after Dhurandhar’s release, the film’s narrative framework may function as a foundational text, shaping their initial understanding of covert operations in ways that are difficult to revise later. Young Indians encountering the shadow war through Dhurandhar-framed social media content may develop impressions of covert operations that are shaped more by the film’s aesthetic and moral certainty than by factual analysis. Educational institutions and strategic affairs curricula do not typically address the entertainment-news feedback loop as a phenomenon, meaning that young citizens may not have the analytical tools to recognize the framing they are consuming. The long-term implications for democratic citizenship, for the quality of public discourse on national security issues, and for the sustainability of informed consent to covert state action, remain uncertain but warrant serious attention from educators, analysts, and policymakers.
Q: What would factual coverage of a targeted killing look like without Dhurandhar framing?
Unframed, factual coverage of a targeted killing would emphasize what is known and what is not known. It would report the victim’s identity, if confirmed by multiple sources, without treating confirmation as certainty. It would describe the method and circumstances based on available evidence. It would note the absence of any claim of responsibility. It would contextualize the event within the broader pattern of similar incidents without attributing the pattern to any specific actor unless evidence supports the attribution. It would include Pakistani perspectives, including official statements and local reporting, alongside Indian perspectives. It would acknowledge the legal and diplomatic implications of covert operations on foreign soil. It would resist narrative closure, presenting the event as one data point in an ongoing situation rather than a satisfying plot resolution. This style of coverage exists in some Indian publications, particularly in English-language outlets with international audiences, but it is vastly less visible than the Dhurandhar-framed coverage that dominates Hindi-language television and social media.
Q: How has the Dhurandhar feedback loop changed between the first and second films?
The release of Dhurandhar: The Revenge intensified the feedback loop by providing fresh visual material, updated narrative templates, and renewed cultural energy to the cycle. Whereas the first film established the loop’s basic infrastructure, the sequel expanded it by incorporating references to recent real events, including Operation Sindoor and its aftermath, tightening the synchronization between entertainment production and real-world security developments. Aditya Dhar’s decision to include actual footage from PM Modi’s speeches, including the 2014 victory address and demonetization announcement, further blurred the boundary between entertainment and political reality, embedding real political figures within a fictional narrative framework and thereby extending the feedback loop’s reach from media coverage into political discourse itself. The sequel’s box office performance, exceeding one thousand crore in domestic collections, confirmed the audience’s appetite for entertainment-framed counter-terror narratives and provided the commercial validation that sustains the loop. The two-film franchise structure created a sense of ongoing narrative, with audiences expecting further installments that would incorporate further real events, thereby extending the feedback loop’s temporal horizon from a single film’s cultural lifespan to a franchise’s potentially indefinite duration. M9 News explicitly noted that Ranveer Singh has become the “poster boy” of the Indian right wing on social media, with his images from Dhurandhar being deployed as reactions whenever news of militant eliminations breaks, confirming that the franchise has achieved cultural saturation sufficient to sustain the feedback loop indefinitely.
Q: How does the Dhurandhar feedback loop compare to the Zero Dark Thirty effect in America?
Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty, which dramatized the hunt for Osama bin Laden, produced a comparable but structurally different effect in American media and political culture. Both films depicted covert counter-terror operations conducted by their respective nations. Both generated controversy about the boundary between entertainment and propaganda. Both influenced how domestic audiences understood their governments’ most sensitive security operations. However, several differences distinguish the two cases. Zero Dark Thirty arrived two years after the event it depicted, meaning the initial media coverage had already established a factual framework that the film supplemented rather than replaced. Dhurandhar arrived during an ongoing campaign, meaning the film’s framework competed with and ultimately supplanted the factual framework in real time. American media’s self-critical tradition, including Senate Intelligence Committee investigations into whether the CIA provided inappropriate access to filmmakers, has no Indian equivalent, meaning the Dhurandhar feedback loop operates without the institutional scrutiny that partially constrained the Zero Dark Thirty effect. Finally, Bollywood’s reach within India, both in commercial scale and cultural penetration, exceeds Hollywood’s domestic influence in America because Indian audiences rely more heavily on domestic entertainment for cultural narrative frameworks, making the Dhurandhar feedback loop proportionally more consequential for Indian public discourse than the Zero Dark Thirty effect was for American public discourse.
Q: What are the long-term risks of the Dhurandhar feedback loop for Indian democracy?
Several long-term risks warrant consideration. First, the feedback loop creates a structural obstacle to informed democratic deliberation about covert state action by replacing analytical discussion with entertainment consumption. As the loop becomes more entrenched over time, the cultural resources available for critical engagement with shadow war policy diminish, while the resources for celebratory engagement grow. Second, the loop creates a ratchet effect on political expectations: once audiences have been conditioned to expect and celebrate covert operations, political leaders face pressure to maintain or escalate the campaign regardless of whether strategic circumstances justify it, because any reduction in operational tempo would disappoint the entertainment-conditioned audience. Third, the loop’s suppression of failure narratives creates a systemic risk: if the campaign produces a significant failure, an operation that goes wrong in ways that cannot be concealed, the gap between the Dhurandhar-conditioned expectation and the actual outcome could produce a backlash more severe than one that would occur in an information environment where the possibility of failure had been acknowledged and prepared for. Fourth, the loop’s erosion of journalistic standards in the domain of security reporting may have spillover effects into other domains, as the entertainment-framing model proves commercially successful and spreads to coverage of other sensitive policy areas. These risks are speculative, and none may materialize, but collectively they suggest that the feedback loop’s long-term consequences deserve ongoing monitoring and analysis by media scholars, security analysts, and democratic accountability advocates.