Kite game between India and USA

The Art of Diplomatic Kite Fighting:
How India Mastered the Ancient Game

A 26-Year Strategic Chess Game Disguised as Humility

It is the kite flying season in India but picture this: It’s Raksha Bandhan in New Delhi, but the rains have grounded all the kites. The rooftops that should be alive with colorful paper diamonds dancing in the wind are empty and wet. But perhaps that’s fitting, because the most spectacular kite fight of our times isn’t happening in the Delhi sky—it’s been playing out on the global stage for over two decades, and most of the world only just realized the game was on.

“It may be dangerous to be America’s enemy, but to be America’s friend is fatal,”

(An observation by Henry Kissinger)

The Master’s Opening Move (1998)

Every kite fighter knows the secret: let your opponent think you’re just enjoying a casual flight while you’re actually positioning for the kill. In 1998, when Atal Bihari Vajpayee came to power, the world saw India’s nuclear tests and thought they understood the move. What they missed were the two quiet revolutions that would reshape everything.

First, Vajpayee began building India’s naval manufacturing from scratch—shipyards, aircraft carriers, even submarines. While everyone focused on the nuclear spectacle, India was quietly ensuring it could never again be held hostage by foreign naval suppliers. No more depending on others for spare parts or facing sanctions that could cripple your fleet.

But the second move was pure genius, invisible to almost everyone: the appointment of shikshamitras—education friends—in schools across India. While the world’s strategic analysts were counting warheads and naval vessels, Vajpayee was investing in something far more powerful: the minds of an entire generation. Those children who learned basic literacy through shikshamitras in 1998 are the adults using smartphones and digital payments today. Without that foundation, Modi’s Digital India would have been impossible.

And then, the masterstroke of appearing humble: Vajpayee cozied up to the USA through further liberalization. The Americans saw the economic opening and thought, “Perfect, India is integrating into our system.” They never realized they were providing the capital and technology India needed to build its independence.

The Stalled Decade (2004-2014)

Every chess game has moments where players lose sight of the bigger picture. The UPA years were India’s lost decade—not economically, but strategically. The Congress-led government essentially put Vajpayee’s long-term vision on pause, becoming too comfortable with the “junior partner” role rather than building independent power. It also killed the small scale industries by opening the doors for Chinese products without any reciprocation.

It’s like having a brilliant kite fighting position and then… doing nothing with it for ten years. The pieces were on the board, but nobody was playing the game.

The Acceleration (2014-2024)

When Modi returned in 2014, he didn’t start from scratch—he picked up Vajpayee’s chess game exactly where it had been left off. But now the conditions were perfect:

The shikshamitras had done their work. India had hundreds of millions of people who could read, write, and operate digital technology. The foundation was there for the great leapfrogging that followed.

Just as India jumped from no phones to smartphones for everyone, bypassing landlines entirely, the defense sector leapfrogged decades of gradual development. No more importing Bofors guns with their corruption scandals and foreign dependencies. Indigenous BrahMos missiles, Akash air defense systems, even India’s own answer to the American Humvee.

And when the Kargil conflict showed how dangerous it was to depend on others’ GPS systems—remember, the US denied GPS access to India while reportedly providing it to Pakistan—India built NavIC, its own navigation system. Never again would Indian forces be blinded during crucial moments.

The Kite Fighting Technique

Here’s where the kite fighting analogy becomes perfect. Every good kite fighter knows the classic technique:

  1. Let loose the kite – appear casual, let it fly high and far
  2. Position above your opponent’s thread – gain the crucial advantage
  3. Swift, sharp pull back – the moment of truth, speed is everything

Modi executed this flawlessly on the global stage. Years of appearing humble, praising Biden, Trump, whoever was in power. Everyone thought: “Modi is so accommodating, how can he refuse anything?” The world saw a deferential leader who would always be compliant.

But while appearing humble, India was gaining altitude—building economic strength, defense capabilities, strategic partnerships. The “Swift pull back” came when India suddenly wasn’t the accommodating partner everyone expected. Instead of being the compliant kite flying below, India started asserting its own interests decisively.

The genius is that opponents often don’t realize what’s happening until their string is cut.

The Domestic Foundation

None of this would have worked without genuine popular support. Modi’s welfare programs—subsidized housing for over ten million families, free food distribution, free healthcare for the poor—created an unshakeable domestic base that external pressure couldn’t penetrate.

This wasn’t just politics; it was strategic necessity. When the CIA tried regime change operations through the farmer protests and Shaheen Bagh demonstrations, using the classic color revolution playbook, Modi’s genuine mass support meant these movements couldn’t gain the critical momentum needed to topple governments.

The 2024 election victory was the final confirmation: the regime change strategy had failed completely.

The Global Chessboard Today

By 2024, the pieces were perfectly positioned. India’s COVID diplomacy—sending vaccines and medical aid to the Global South when the West was hoarding—created the same kind of gratitude and alignment that America built with the Marshall Plan post-WWII. Except India’s version was more powerful because it came from one developing country helping others, not a rich power helping devastated allies.

The results speak for themselves:

  • Putin, Xi, and Lula all backing Modi
  • Spain and Switzerland canceling F-35 orders after Trump’s tariffs
  • France, even under leftist leadership, supporting strategic autonomy
  • Australia and UK (Five Eyes countries!) signing FTAs with India
  • The Gulf becoming India’s largest trading partner
  • Both India and EU as observers in mBridge, the possible alternative to SWIFT
  • Even Indonesia’s president proudly declaring his Indian DNA

When Trump Forced the Hand

USA was not happy when India hit Kirana Hills which had housed it’s nuclear assets and frantic behind the scene pat on Pakistan ensured a smooth surrender for Trump to claim Noble Prize. Alas, Modi denied that opportunity in full public glare on the floor of Parliament.

However the real turning point came when Trump himself moved the goalposts. A mini-FTA deal had actually been reached between India and the USA—carefully crafted to keep American agricultural products out. This wasn’t protectionism; it was civilizational necessity.

American genetically modified food products simply lack the taste that Indian consumers expect. More critically, milk is part of morning prayer rituals for nearly a billion Indians. Milk from cows fed with non-vegetarian feed is religiously unacceptable. Even if Modi wanted to accept such imports, his government would be finished—some red lines cannot be crossed, no matter the economic pressure.

But Trump refused this carefully negotiated compromise. He moved the goalposts and insisted that agricultural products must be made duty-free imports into India. In essence, he demanded that Modi commit political suicide for a trade deal.

That was the moment the kite strings were truly positioned for cutting. Trump announced 25% tariff. Modi remained unmoved. No call. No rapprochements. Tariff raised to 50%. Still no reply.

A 30 trillion economy imposed tariff so high to bar import over an balance of payment of 41 billion on a 4 trillion economy. No flutter from the former colony of UK. Stoic silence was the only reply. Trump escalated further and announced there would not be any negotiations with India. Still no reply.

The Moment of Recognition

Yesterday, India’s defense ministry issued a statement without any triggering news report: they haven’t canceled any trade deals with the USA. The very act of denying something unprompted sent the clearest message possible: “We have that capability, we’ve been thinking about it, and it remains an active option.”

Airlines of India have already placed orders for over 500 Boeing Aircraft. These include Air India and Akasa Airlines. The value of these would be over 100 billions. India cancelled just one order for P8 reconnaissance aircraft from Boeing, signalling that more could follow. In fact the India could just impose reciprocal tariff of 50% on the import and deal would go to Airbus.

It’s like a kite fighter positioning their manja, (glass-coated thread) right above an opponent’s thread and casually mentioning, “Oh, by the way, I’m not planning to cut anything today.” When nobody even asked.

Meanwhile, Prime Minister of Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu is tweeting about wanting to visit India to help resolve US tensions. Even traditionally US-aligned countries are recognizing they need to hedge for the post-American-hegemony world.

And here’s a detail most people don’t know: India has a very old treaty with Israel that includes commitments aggression against Israel, that no other country has received from India—the only such arrangement in Indian diplomatic history. Subramanian Swamy revealed this years ago, and significantly, no one ever denied it. In diplomacy, that silence speaks volumes. That secret treaty puts India and Israel in special relationship. Both have never hesitated to make supplies in times of war faced by other.

The Tactical vs Strategic

The fundamental difference is now clear. Trump is a tactical player—he sees an opponent’s kite and immediately tries to cut it with aggressive moves, tariffs, threats. Quick wins, immediate confrontations.

Modi and his coalition are strategic players—they think in decades, not news cycles. They set up positions quietly, build alliances methodically, and wait for the perfect moment to execute.

When P. Chidambaram former Finance Minister of India, set a target of reaching a $4 trillion economy by 2043, he was thinking conventionally—linear growth, traditional development patterns. Modi’s team achieved it 19 years early because they understood the strategic pieces were already in place, waiting to be activated.

The Endgame

Today, we’re witnessing the climax of a 26-year strategic masterpiece. The “humble kite” that spent decades appearing accommodating while building strength is now positioned above everyone else’s strings.

Countries that thought they could control India through defense dependencies, economic pressure, or political interference are discovering their traditional tools don’t work anymore. When your opponent has indigenous defense manufacturing, alternative payment systems, genuine popular support, and strategic partnerships across multiple blocs, the old playbook becomes useless.

The chess game that began in 1998 has reached its decisive moment. And just like in kite fighting, by the time you realize you’re being outmaneuvered, your string is already being cut.

The monsoon rains may have grounded the kites over Delhi today, but the most important kite fight in modern geopolitics is soaring high above us all—and India is holding the winning string.

The art of kite fighting, whether with paper and manja or nations and treaties, remains the same: patience, positioning, and knowing exactly when to make your move.

Donald Trump is Danny Crane without Alan Shore.

Donald Trump and Danny Crane

Donald Trump is Denny Crane Without Alan Shore:

The Limits of Performative Leadership

Both Denny Crane—the legendary, bombastic attorney from Boston Legal—and Donald Trump exemplify a style of leadership built on bravado, spectacle, and relentless self-branding. Their personas dominate every room: Denny Crane wields his name as a talisman; Trump plasters his across buildings. Both are magnetic, controversial, and unafraid to break the mold.

We all know Donald Trump but for the uninitiated to the fiction Bostan Legal, Denny Crane, was a central character in Boston Legal, is an eccentric, flamboyant senior partner at Crane, Poole & Schmidt. Renowned for his courtroom prowess and legendary winning streak, Denny wields his name as a boast and shield—often declaring “Denny Crane!” as both signature and defense. Despite brash confidence, outlandish antics, and politically incorrect views, he remains oddly endearing. His vulnerabilities, including early-onset Alzheimer’s, and his complex friendship with Alan Shore reveal surprising depth, making Denny both comic and profoundly human—a paradox of bravado and underlying pathos.

Yet, despite these surface parallels, their stories diverge sharply—especially regarding ethical checks and balances. The fictional world of Boston Legal offers Denny a built-in mirror: Alan Shore, his friend, foil, and ethical counterweight. The real-world culture surrounding Donald Trump, on the other hand, rarely produced such internal resistance or institutional constraint.

Denny Crane vs. Donald Trump

Comparing the Archetypes

TraitDenny CraneDonald Trump
Self-Branding“Denny Crane!”—personal mantra, shield.“Trump”—ubiquitous, golden brand.
Legal AcumenClaims undefeated in court.Frequent litigator; mixed outcomes.
Ethical CounterweightAlan Shore: loyal friend and moral conscience—never afraid to challenge him.Loyalists predominate; dissent is rare and discouraged.
Institutional ConstraintLaw firm partners, judges, Alan’s interventions—all curb his excesses.Often bypassed or overrode institutional norms; accountability struggled to keep pace.

The Function of the Counterweight

Boston Legal’s iconic “balcony scenes” weren’t just comedic interludes; they were ritualized moments of reflection in which Alan would gently (or bluntly) interrogate Denny’s choices, forcing him and the audience to grapple with right, wrong, and the gray in-between. Denny’s confidence was never unchecked for long.

Trump, in contrast, operated in an ecosystem where dissent was marginalized and institutions wobbled. Rather than close friends with the stature—and access—to offer serious internal critique, he often surrounded himself with affirming loyalists. Moments of genuine pushback, whether from advisers, Congress, or the press, were met with resistance or purging. The same systems meant to serve as guardrails—the courts, the media, the bureaucracy—frequently buckled or were systematically sidelined.

“Crane had Shore. Trump had sycophants.”

The Consequences for Leadership

This comparison hits at a core ethical question:
Can a leader who thrives on performance, self-invention, and risk-taking govern ethically or effectively without any substantive internal or institutional resistance?

  • Denny Crane routinely flirted with disaster, but Alan Shore and firm partners (plus the law itself) could rein him in or force consequence.
  • Donald Trump frequently bypassed, attacked, or ignored potential constraints, operating within an environment inhospitable to sustained self-critique.

When Institutions Fail

Crane without Shore would be pure—perhaps dangerous—id: unmoored from ethical ballast.
Trump’s presidency tested whether American institutions could serve as that Shore-like check, and in many moments, they faltered. The result invites concern for any society where checks and balances become a nuisance rather than a necessity.

The Deeper Inquiry

  • Is performative authority sustainable or ethical without built-in counterweights—be they people or institutions?
  • What does a culture lose when it mistakes bravado for wisdom and self-promotion for competence?
  • When leaders resist ll critique, who—or what—serves as their Alan Shore?

In fiction, unchecked charisma is charming and instructive. In reality, it is a gamble—sometimes catastrophic—unless tethered to conscience and constraint.

Who is Donald Trump?

Watch it yourself. He tells about himself.

Tariff and tariff everywhere yet no solace for Trump.

🏛️ Trumpian Tarrifficcing: The Coliseum of Strategic Absurdity

Opening Ceremony: Pandemonium, Escorted

Welcome to the Coliseum of Strategic Absurdity, where the crowds roar—not in applause, but over delayed shipments and contradictory tweets. Glitz, ego, and a Jumbotron featuring Donald Trump’s “Tarrif Tracker” meet bureaucratic inertia from India’s world-class Ministry of Paperwork. Bets are placed not on who wins, but on whose customs queue collapses last.

A lone announcer bellows:

“Tonight: The art of the deal meets the paperwork of denial. Let the games begin!”


Act I: The Basmati and Mango Blockade

Cast: Trump (The Tariff Titan), India (The Silent Scribe), Chai-Sipping Customs Officer

The curtain rises on a refrigerated dock somewhere in Mundra port. Pallets of basmati rice and Alphonso mangoes huddle together for warmth as customs officers practice the ancient Indian sport of “routine inspection.” Hours pass. Then days. Local pigeons organize a sit-in demanding “free trade for all feathery stakeholders.”

Trump, noticing a dip in New Jersey mango supply, erupts: “Obnoxious!” He schedules a 3AM Truth Social post. But in Delhi, officialdom simply shrugs. “Routine inspection,” a ministry statement says, sipping masala chai in full Lotus Pose, while the containers bloom a secondary crop of moss.

Media Chyron: US outraged. India: Only the paperwork has moved.

Rumors of a secret “Basmati Withdrawal Agreement” swirl. Analysts on both sides debate if “green channel” in Indian ports refers to customs or actual plant growth on stuck rice sacks.


Act II: Oil Promises Evaporate

Cast: Oil Barrels, Indian Procurement Committee, Trump (Voice-only, on speakerphone)

Once, there was a handshake deal. America ships oil, India keeps tweeting about “strategic partnership.” Then, Trump live-tweets the entire negotiation, ranking Indian negotiators by “likeability.” Within hours, a procurement memo floats through Indian ministries:

“Due to evolving global circumstances, alternate suppliers are being considered.”

New map: Angolan and Abu Dhabi tankers cheerfully wave from Gujarat’s coast. “We’re reviewing our procurement strategy,” intone officials—diplomatese for, “Congratulations, you’ve just been left on read.”

Meanwhile, Trump’s team triangulates between blaming Canada and threatening to convert the Statue of Liberty into a refinery.

An intern whispers: “Sir, India says they’re focusing on renewables…” Trump, confused, asks if “renewables” is a golf resort in Goa.


Act III: Defence Deals on Ice

Cast: HAL, DRDO, Adani Defence, Enigmatic US Weapons Salesman, Trump (in full camo)

Gone are the days of glitzy contracts and F-16 flypasts. Now, Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd. and DRDO rediscover patriotism in their HR mission statements. Boards meeting in windowless rooms—PowerPoint slides emerge: “Freedom Through Indigenous Procurement” and “Atmanirbhar: Because Imports Fluctuate, Bureaucracy Endures”.

Across the table, the US arms salesman, jacket adorned with tiny eagles, offers a commemorative pin. “We can throw in a Trump-autographed missile shell.” HAL’s chief demurs, referencing the great Dreamliner Malfunction of Ahmadabad as proof that “true sovereignty is manufactured in Peenya.”

Air India, sensing the mood, pauses the Boeing deal with a press release citing “unexpected turbulence in the supply chain of optimism and landing gears.”

The Pentagon receives a gesture from New Delhi: “We value the partnership—please enjoy our new line of khadi uniforms.”

Silence, somewhere, from the Dead Economy Chamber.


Act IV: Quad Goes VC

Cast: Quad Nations, Silicon Valley Tech Bros, Trump (with parade baton)

The defence summit? India is “on mute”—literally. Instead, Modi joins a Zoom breakout room, replete with family photos and a VPN. The Quad, erstwhile security pact, is now a Silicon Valley pitchfest. Australia pushes lithium. Japan flashes a rare earth mining JV. The US ambassador tries to share a blockchain presentation, but the connection lags just enough to prevent policy disaster.

Trump, expecting a tank parade, is offered a filtered cat avatar and a politely worded 15-minute slot to “promote synergies in battery storage.” He asks Melania if this counts as “strategic.”

Meanwhile, India quietly invests in a meme coin dedicated to Indo-Pacific resilience and marks the calendar: “Next face-to-face, 2050?”


Act V: Stadium Diplomacy Collapses

Cast: Motera Stadium (furloughed), Cricket Board, Trump (misreading GPS), Lahore Dignitaries

The famed “Namaste Trump” moment at Motera is now a legend—a Wikipedia page flagged for possible exaggeration. Stadium lights flicker, then fade. Cricket diplomats declare retirement. “All stadiums are on a fact-finding mission to nowhere,” says a press release.

Trump, redirected by an optimistic GPS, arrives in Lahore’s Gaddafi Stadium. Instead of rallying fans, he finds himself greeted by a panel including Golani, ex-terrorist-turned-festival-organizer, and General Asim Muneer, RSVP’ing on behalf of “deep state multilateralism.”

A new event is born: the “Strategic Ambiguity Cup.” The only rule is there are no rules, and every commentator disagrees about who is winning. The crowd, unsure if booing is safe, checks for drones.

Rumors swirl that Trump vows to return with a baseball bat and a 12-part docuseries: “America’s Greatest Trade Showdowns.”


Finale: The Tarrifficcing Weather Forecast

  • 🌾 Basmati: Cloudy with a chance of customs, rice grain futures settle on “mostly ambiguous.”
  • 🛢️ Oil: Evaporating promises, scattered rerouting, sunny in Angola, stormy in Houston.
  • 🛡️ Defence: Frozen with indigenous flurries; occasional gusts of press releases.
  • 📞 Quad: Dial-in diplomacy, no handshakes; Zoom storms expected.
  • 🏟️ Stadiums: Closed for renovation, open for satire, seating limited to nerve.

“India doesn’t retaliate loudly. It retaliates bureaucratically. Trump calls it obstruction; Indians call it tradition; the world calls it yoga for diplomats. Only the paperwork wins in the end.”

— End Scene. No mangoes were cleared during the making of this performance.