Oh, Shahid Afridi, the swashbuckling all-rounder who once dazzled Pakistani fans with his boom-boom batting and wily leg-spin. What a legacy! From smashing sixes to, apparently, smashing common sense with his latest verbal volleys. “Lala” has taken his flair for drama off the pitch and straight into the cesspool of controversy, proving that some people can’t resist a good ol’ conspiracy theory—especially when it involves sympathizing with the wrong side of history.
Let’s talk about Afridi’s recent masterclass in geopolitical analysis, shall we? After the horrific Pahalgam terror attack on April 22, 2025, which claimed 26 innocent lives, most of them tourists, Afridi decided it was the perfect time to play armchair general. Speaking on a Pakistani news channel, he had the audacity to blame the Indian Army for “security lapses” and, wait for it, suggested India orchestrated the attack to pin it on Pakistan. Yes, Shahid, because that’s exactly how nations operate—staging massacres for Bollywood-style drama. “Khud hi logon ko marwa dete hain (India kills its own people),” he sneered, as if he’d uncovered the plot of a low-budget thriller. Truly, Afridi’s investigative skills deserve a Netflix special.
But let’s not be too shocked. This isn’t Afridi’s first rodeo in the ring of reckless rhetoric. The man has a history of cozying up to extremist views, as pointed out by his former teammate Danish Kaneria, who didn’t mince words when he called Afridi out for “consistently aligning himself with extremist views.” Kaneria even shared a charming anecdote: Afridi allegedly tried to persuade him to convert to Islam and refused to share a meal with him. Nothing says “team spirit” like religious coercion and dining discrimination, right?
And then there’s the family connection that Afridi conveniently forgets when he’s busy wagging his finger at India. Posts on X have repeatedly brought up his cousin, Shaquib Afridi, a commander of the Harkat-ul-Ansar terror module (which later morphed into the notorious Lashkar-e-Taiba). Shaquib was neutralized by the Indian Army in Anantnag in 2003, a fact that seems to have left a permanent chip on Shahid’s shoulder. No wonder Afridi’s so quick to deflect blame from Pakistan—when your own kin was knee-deep in terrorism, it’s probably easier to point fingers at the victims than face the mirror.
Shahid Afridi Eating the Ball , Tempering and Cheating Comes Easily to Terrorist Sympathizer
Afridi’s defenders might argue he’s just a passionate patriot, but passion doesn’t excuse peddling baseless conspiracies that rub salt in the wounds of a grieving nation. His sarcastic “#FantasticTea” jab at Shikhar Dhawan, referencing the 2019 Abhinandan Varthaman incident, was the cherry on top of his tasteless tirade. Because nothing screams “I’m taking the high road” like mocking a captured soldier over a cuppa. Dhawan, to his credit, didn’t hold back, reminding Afridi of Pakistan’s loss in the 1999 Kargil War and urging him to focus on his own country’s progress. Spoiler alert: Afridi didn’t take the hint.
The internet, bless its savage heart, has been schooling Afridi left, right, and center. Netizens have called his remarks “awful,” with some even taking potshots at his cricketing prowess—or lack thereof. AIMIM chief Asaduddin Owaisi summed it up best, branding Afridi a “joker” while tearing into his Pahalgam comments. Honestly, it’s hard to argue with that. When you’re out here blaming the Indian Army’s 800,000-strong force for not teleporting to a terror attack in progress, all while ignoring your own family’s terror ties, you’re not exactly playing with a straight bat.
So, what’s next for Shahid Afridi? Will he double down with another viral video, perhaps accusing India of staging the moon landing? Or will he finally take Kaneria’s advice and lose the Indian media’s phone number? One thing’s for sure: Afridi’s legacy is no longer about those blazing cover drives or cheeky leg-breaks. He’s traded his cricketing halo for a megaphone of misinformation, and the world’s not buying it. Maybe it’s time for Lala to retire from the conspiracy circuit and stick to something he’s actually good at—like selling mangoes or, you know, keeping quiet.