Long before social media existed, Akbar Allahabadi had said-
“Kheencho na kamanon ko, na talwar nikalo,
Jab top muqabil ho to akhbar nikalo.”
“Do not draw bows or unsheathe swords, when confronted with a cannon, publish a newspaper.”
Had he been alive today, perhaps he would have amended the second line-
“Jab sach muqabil ho to WhatsApp nikalo.”
“When truth confronts you, bring out WhatsApp.”
Psychologists talk about the Illusory Truth Effect, our tendency to believe something simply because we have heard it many times.
There was once a kingdom called The Land of Echo Chambers.
Every morning, just after sunrise, its officials gathered around a large brass bell. The youngest clerk announced the day’s truth.
“Elephants can fly.”
The senior clerk adjusted his spectacles and said.
“Repeat it.”
The peon repeated it. The accountant repeated it. The gardener repeated it while watering the roses. The royal barber repeated it while trimming beards. By afternoon, schoolchildren were writing essays titled The Aerodynamics of Elephants. By evening, anyone who looked suspiciously at the size of the elephant and its capability of flying was accused of lacking faith in the kingdom.
One day, an old librarian cleared his throat.
“Has anyone actually seen an elephant fly?”
There was complete silence. The king looked angry.
The minister leaned towards the throne and whispered, “Your Majesty, he is against the royal elephant.”
The charge was serious. The librarian was declared a traitor and transferred to a remote island where, according to official records, he lived happily ever after. His replacement had never read a book, but he possessed an extraordinary qualification. He could repeat sentences without changing a single word, comma, or full stop. He was promoted, repeatedly. Years passed.
A traveller returned to the kingdom after a long absence. Looking at the huge elephant grazing peacefully, he asked, “How can anyone believe elephants fly?”
The citizens laughed.
“He is an idiot! Was he living under a rock?”
Another citizen, sounding both scholarly and democratic, said to him, “I have done my research.”
His research consisted of fourteen videos, each quoting the other thirteen. It was a perfectly self-sustaining ecosystem. Remarkable progress had been made in the kingdom. Earlier, one needed twenty years of study to become an expert. Now twenty thousand followers achieved the same result within no time. The newsrooms played a distinguished role in preserving truth. Every evening, eight panelists and one anchor gathered to discuss the day’s important questions. The conclusions were always the same.
“World’s Best.”
“Number One.”
“Historic.”
“Masterstroke.”
“Game Changer.”
Every twelve minutes, these words were repeated with greater conviction and louder volume than before. By the end of the show, nobody remembered the question. Everyone remembered the adjectives. Before retiring for the night, every loyal citizen performed one final patriotic duty.
“Forwarded as received.”



Text and photos by Prerna Jain.

