By Sanjay Jha
Mayawati , UP chief minister, took majestic strides supervising the bricks and boulders near her half-constructed towering statue. She looked furious as her concrete nose was incorrectly positioned at a vertical angle of 82 degrees north-west. A disconsolate crow sat there pensively staring at parched agricultural land.
Cancel that stupid police commissioner’s investigation into the nasty bee attack on me with immediate effect , she roared aloud, as nervous birds rapidly disappeared into their nests in fright and a deathly silence echoed back.
Her Brahmin confidante who was busy on a tree-top with a magnifying glass investigating a bee- hive almost fell off the branch as the tree swayed from left to right to left on hearing Mayawati’s tempestuous outburst.
I have found out the kingpin of that diabolical conspiracy. I have; said Mayawati with a satisfied smug smile.
W-H—0? The Brahmin stammered.
Amitabh Bachchan , said Mayawati, with the cocksure arrogance of Miss Marple.
Amitabh Bachchan Ji? Hey Ram! He is really a Natwarlal, Madam. Naughty Natwarlal.
Stupid fellow! He is the Big Bee, remember? I should have known. And they say, what’s in a name?
But you blamed the Congress, madam! What I meant was that Big Bee was holding a congress of bees to attack me, at the behest of Bee JP. He was instigating an orchestrated campaign using those horrible pests. That was his devious plan. You know why?
Why , Madam Ji?
He wants revenge because I removed him as our band -baaja fellow.
You mean, brand ambassador?
Shut up, you idiotic buffoon, thundered Mayawati , as the trees shed their leaves and branches rocked from side to side like youngsters in a Shyamak Davar’s dance class.
Maam, but don’t worry, be happy. We can get some other ambassador?
I don’t want ambassador now . Enough. Let Gujarat keep ambassador. And Nano . I want a Mercedes. Only Mercedes.
Maam, I can arrange through one man. Very influential. Every night he is on TV grinning at the cameras , giving side-long glances.
Who? screamed Mayawati, as by now the trees had begun to uproot themselves in sheer agony.
Shut up, you loaf of oaf . He will send Bachchan back to us.
Maam, I am not talking about Narendra Modi. I am talking about Lalit Modi. The IPL big boss.
But isn’t he the fellow who talks all the time about himself only ? I need someone to tell the world that the Taj Mahal is not yet sold. We are looking at bidders though. We have to sell UP also.
No, Maam. Sometimes he also talks about his endless achievements, Maam. And he can also help us auction the Taj , Maam. Get good price.
OK. Call him. NOW !
The phone was busy. The Brahmin shivered in fear.
He is engaged, Madam!
I don’t care if he is engaged or married , call him NOW!
After a few minutes Modi picked up.
Hello, he said with a pronounced lisp.
I want a band Mercedes, Modi Ji., said Mayawati. .
Who is this sweet pudding-pie crust ? Shilpa or Preity or Sherlyn or Sush or ……
Maywati held her anger back as the Brahmin said; Lalit Modi ji, this is Mayawati Ji , CM of Uttar Pradesh , Madam on the other side. Sorry, this side .
Oh ! said, Modi, partially taken aback. . No problem. Cool. Just watch Set Max TV channel , while I take a strategic time-out to have a quick chat with Mukesh Bhai. I will be back before the next six hits the commentary box clobbered by Yusuf Pathan. Which means in a jiff.
Mayawati was not impressed with the waiting , but held her nerves and temper by practicing pranayam.
OK, shoot ! What’s the proposition? Modi reemerged in 233 seconds , the sound of broken glass and crowds cheering in the background.
The Brahmin coughed and cleared his throat.
Modi ji, brand ambassador we want.
Sure. What valuation are you expecting ? Quote your price, folks! Shoot!.
What is this valuation-faluation , Sir?
Oh forget it, sniggered Modi. How much will you pay ? How much cash? How much?
First -for WHOM ? Who ? What for?
Oh, sorry, I forgot that. A minor slip, uttered Modi, slightly riled by irrelevant probing.
Three choices; first, Akon.
Ye hai kaun ? said Mayawati.
Modi smothered his frustration. He contained his irritation.
Second choice, Sherlyn Chopra.
Sher nahi chahiye, dubla ya mota.
There was a long pause. Modi had begun to experience what Kings XI Punjab goes through in the 20th over. Suddenly, he smiled. He had a brainwave.
Yes. Who is the teesra, Modi Ji? We are waiting.
Er um er umm. Modi hummed and hawed.
Yes? Speak up Mr Modi, who is the third fellow? Our last choice.
Me Maam! Me, Lalit Modi, Me IPL Commissioner, Me VP, BCCI, Me Moses. Me Me Me !
Stop doing Me Me Me, silly chap! Ok. But how much will you cost ? Hope not more than my garland, queried Mayawati.
Oh that ! That is complex, Madam Ji ! I am just doing my personal brand valuation report through McKinsey using the discounting cash flow method , assuming ceteris paribus global economic conditions and falling variable costs. I Me Myself believe that I Me Myself will get a valuation of——-.
Mayawati waited for nine and a half minutes but Modi was still on his monologue.
This fellow Modi is just like that other fellow Modi. Same same. Full of themselves. Get me Bachchan’s bachcha , only. I will do a Amar Singh on Amitabh. Father versus son, said Mayawati with a mischievous smile. For the first time she looked happy.
The Brahmin looked impressed. What an idea, Madamji.