NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 6: chapter 6
He was a tall, thin lad of sixteen or seventeen. He had a fuzzy growth on his face and had an innocent look about him. He was dressed in sports shorts and a baggy shirt, and had on cotton socks and joggers. He was in the middle of a crowded road, on a heavy duty motorcycle which he was racing recklessly without any consideration for traffic lights or oncoming traffic. Zigzagging his bike through the traffic, he periodically lifted both his feet off the pedals performing wheelies. Then, without breaking speed, he turned and changed lanes going the wrong way through the oncoming traffic. Suddenly he braked with a sharp screech. He raised his hands from the handlebars and the motorcycle slammed full speed into an approaching car. He was flung into the air and thrown down. He had no idea of what had happened...his mind plunged into a dark abyss.
The boys stood behind the rostrums on the stage, facing each other. They were both canvassing for the post of head boy and this was part of the election programme. One rostrum had a poster saying 'Vote for Salar pasted on it, while the other had a poster of the other contender, Faizan. At this point, Faizan was telling his audience what he would do for them if elected. Salar watched him intently. Faizan was the best orator in the school and was impressing the boys with his performance in a clipped British accent which was so popular. The excellent sound system carried his voice very clearly and there was pin-drop silence in the hall which was sporadically broken by the thunderous applause of his supporters. When Faizan finished half an hour later, the clapping and whistling carried on for several minutes. Salar Sikandar also joined the applause. Faizan looked around triumphantly, and seeing Salar clapping, he nodded in appreciation. As Faizan knew well, Salar was not an easy opponent,
The compere called Salar to begin his speech. To a roar of applause Salar began. 'Good morning friends...' He paused, and then continued. Faizan Akbar is certainly an asset to our school as an orator. Neither I nor anyone else can compete with him...' He stopped again and looked at Faizan, who looked around with a proud smile. But the rest of Salar's sentence wiped the smile off his face. ... If it were only a matter of spinning yarns.'
Sounds of giggling filled the hall. Salar maintained a serious attitude. "But there's a great difference between an orator and a head boy: an orator has to speak while a head boy has to work. The hall echoed with the applause of Salar's supporters.
I do not have the cloquence of Faizan Akbar," he continued. 'I have my name and my record to speak for me. I do not need a stream of words where just a few would do. He stopped again.
Trust me and vote for me. He thanked the audience and switched off the mike. Thunderous applause filled the air. Salar had spoken for one minute and forty seconds, in his typical measured style and calculated words, and in that brief time he had overturned Faizan's ambitions, After this preliminary introduction, there was a question and answer session. Salar responded in his customary brief manner; his longest response was not more than four sentences. On the other hand, Faizan's shortest response was not less than four sentences. Faizan's eloquence and way with words, which were his strength, now appeared bombastic compared to Salar's short and sharp responses on stage, and Faizan was all too aware of this. If Salar gave a one-line reply to a question, Faizan, out of sheer habit, went on with a monologue. Whatever Salar had said about Faizan seemed to be proving true to the audience that an orator
can only speak, not act. Why should Salar Sikandar be the head boy?" came a question.
*Because you should elect the best person for the job,' he replied. "Wouldn't you call this arrogance?" came the objection.
No, it is confidence and awareness. The objection was refuted. "What is the difference between arrogance and confidence?" another pointed query arose.
"The same as the difference between Faizan Akbar and Salar Sikandar,'
he replied in a serious tone.
What difference will it make if you are not appointed head boy?"
*It will make a difference to you, not to me."
"How?"
"If the best person is not appointed as the leader, it affects the community, not the best person."
Again, you are referring to yourself as the best person. Once again,
there was an objection.
'Is there anyone in this hall who'd equate himself with someone bad?" Perhaps there is...
"Then I'd like to meet him.' Sounds of amusement rose from the
audience.
"Tell us about the changes Salar Sikandar will bring about as head boy."
"Changes are not talked about, they are demonstrated and I cannot do
this before I become head boy.
A few more questions were asked and answered and then the compere called for the last question. A Sri Lankan boy stood up with a naughty smile.
'If you answer this question of mine, then I and my entire group will vote for you.
Salar smiled, Before I reply, I'd like to know how many people there are in your group.
'Six, the boy replied.
Salar nodded in assent and asked, 'Okay, what's your question?" You have to calculate and tell me that if 952852 is added to 267895 and then 399999 is subtracted from the total and 929292 is added to the sum,' he read slowly from a paper, then the figure is multiplied by six and divided by two and 492359 is added to the final figure, what would be one-fourth of it?"
The boy could barely complete his words when Salar's response to this 'silly' question came with lightning speed. 2035618.2." The boy glanced at the paper in his hand and, shaking his head in
disbelief, began clapping. Faizan Akbar at that point felt that he was merely an actor; the hall was filled with applause-Faizan saw this entire programme as nothing more that a joke. An hour later, coming down the stage ahead of Salar, Faizan knew that he had lost the competition to him even before it had begun. He had never felt as envious of this 150 IQ scorer as he did now.