Dawood Ibrahim
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WITH the internet reigning supreme and the media gradually moving into obscurity and oblivion, leaders the world over, find telling a lie well makes it believable. “People don’t know what to believe anymore!” said a teacher who worked in the newly begun School for Liars, “So we teach leaders to lie so convincingly, it becomes gospel truth!”
“How?” I asked angrily. “Well, there are methods and there are methods! First the uttered lie is washed thoroughly of any extra trappings, like filthy words or tone, then we add spoonfuls of convincing rhetoric, a touch of genuine voice, gentle hand gestures, and voila, this mixture brings immediate belief!”
“So why a school, open a factory!” I said scornfully. “No product is good, unless the producer is also good!” said the teacher, “Here we train leaders to be masters of bluff!”
We walked by a class and I found students glued to their teachers with fixed smile. “They are asleep!” said the teacher, “But have learned to keep their smile plastered on their faces as they sleep!”
“But the lecturer seems to be highly motivated and dedicated!” I said. “No, he isn’t!” said the teacher. “Look at his smile. Listen to his words!” I said. “Those words are from the mask he’s grown over his face. Now listen to what he is actually saying”
Suddenly the air was filled with the worst obscenity and coarse language I’d ever heard. I saw the face behind the mask, cruel, filled with hatred and bias, staring pointedly at me with loathing and anger.
“Let’s get away from here!” I whispered. “It’s okay,” said the teacher, “He’ll just put his mask back again. Now look at him!” It was the most angelic, cherubic face I’d ever seen, and the words uttered were like sweet honey. But I turned away with fear. I had seen his true self.
“And that’s the true self they are taught to hide!” smiled the teacher. “I wouldn’t like to ask you to reveal your true self!” I said looking at him, and for a moment I heard a snarl followed by a growl, and the distinct noise of a wild animal pawing the ground. But it stopped, as the teacher got control of himself. “Would you like to see the trustees?” asked the teacher sweetly, as he led me to a glass cabin.
I looked in and saw a seventy-year man with a now famous blonde hairstyle, talking animatedly to different faces I recognized. The talk was being translated by a bald Russian, who’s movements showed a leaning towards judo, and also translated into Hindi, by a man with a white beard, white hair and familiar jacket. All their looks were pleasing to the eye..!
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