the secret diary of mayawati@UP

14th November

I look around my humble room with pleasure.The pink swarovski chandeliers, all 4 of them, are blazing brightly ;the diamond studded pink bed has been turned down for me for the night; the chantilly lace curtains( pink) are fluttering delicately in the gentle breeze of the air conditioners. Four baskets of the best chocolates ( uhmn pink)  for my delicate nibbles has been kept next to my jewellery cupboard  ( there is nothing more pleasurable than counting one's diamonds while nibbling on Belgium liqueur chocolates ) .After spending the whole day with these upper end 'manoos' it is nice to be back on my own turf . I never forget , and also do not let others forget, that I am a dalit .This humble room is one of my  odes to my humble roots ( another 'small' one is at Noida ). The song I have been listening to the whole day is playing in the background ( aa dekhen zara, kitna kisme hain dum...). Shashank Shekhar Singh is such an inquisitive thakur. He wanted to know why I have taken a fancy to this song . I let him in on many of my strategems but it would never do to tell him this one and so I  quelled him with one of my maya memsahib look . (Kanshi Ram ji ,God bless his soul, used to love my memsahib looks. Infact he had told me that the day I perfected these he would make me the chief minister apparent -and thereby hangs the tale of how I sat on the 'gaddi' of UP). After making so much  girly fun of Rahul baba I could not possibly disclose to triple S  that baba's 'lalkaar' on the banks of the Ganga has left me slightly shaken and to prep myself  up for the battle of UP I have been playing and re playing this song. I found myself humming" Aa dekhen zara ,kitna kisme..".
The phone rang, interrupting me in the middle of  a graceful piroutte .  It was  not the lemon phone, that's for my lemon and green dresses; not the pink one, that's for my pink and purple dresses; certainly not the red one -that's only for someone very, very special. This was my fourth phone -black-for my business dealings. The voice whispered," Vijay here". " Vijay from dalitnagar?" I asked politely.  "No,no,no",said the person, sounding horrified. 'It's Mallya,Vijay Mallya. I want you to bail me out .Can you lend me a few hundred crores?"  I naturally asked him why I should do so. "Because ferrying you all over the globe for your secret shopping sprees has landed us in the red." The cheek of the man. He obviously thinks I am a babe in the woods ( just because I look like one). Thankful for the inputs from my Secret Service men I could tell him curtly that he should be asking Deepika .P for the loan as his airline had flown her 45 times whereas I had only used it 44 times. Before he could beg some more I disconnected and flopped on the bed .

My mind worked, fast and furious, for a solution to the danger posed by the congress. Should I play the Italian card ? Nah .Already done to death. Besides,what if someone leaked out my preference for Italian handbags?(even though I carry them in a way to make them look as if they are from lajpat nagar) Should it be baba's jerky waves and shifty eye contact ?nah- not enough dum. Just then I remembered the words of my personal astrologer -"4 is your lucky number-always think in terms of four and multiples of four". Eureka ! I had got it. Multiples of four can be for other smaller things, like gold bangles and diamond sets and... Tomorrow I will announce the division of the state - into four parts .

Chortling (gently) at the look on Rahul baba's and Diggy Raja's face at this announcement I drift off to sleep, my head resting on black pillows. Why not pink? So that the  jet black hair color does not show up in the morning !