My fair Modi

  • Bachi Karkaria, PTI
  • |
  • Updated: Dec 22, 2002 00:12 IST

Mari Gori Gujaratan’ could be the latest version of My Fair Lady, now that everyone is singing Narendra Modi's tune. It might be difficult to picture the rally-rousing, minority-dousing, Rajdeep-grousing Chief Minister as the suave Professor Henry Higgins, but in the face of the stunning victory, Sonia can Do-little about it.

Narendra-bhai is expected to be as long-running a hit as the West End musical. As with every successful formula, he now has to transfer Hindutva from Gujarat lab to land, and better still to land-slide in the other slated Assembly elections. This is why the final touches are being put to My Fair Modi or Mari Gori Gujaratan. We don’t have the lyrics of The Ben in Spain, but we have managed to get you a sneak preview of some of the other favourites adapted from Alan Jay Lerner’s originals. The first three are sung by Prof Hairy Modi, and the last by Sonia Dolittle.

‘Why Can’t the M’s?’

Look at them, a prisoner of the ghetto,
Condemned by every slur we want to pheko.
By law they should be given such a laat
For their cold-blooded stain on our Garvi Gujarat.

Why can’t the M’s teach their children how to speak.
This communal class distinction, by now, should make them meek.
If you behaved as they do, Pravin, instead of the way you do,
Why, you might end up in a burning Madanpura too.

A Minority’s way of living absolutely classifies him.
The minute they see his ways,
He makes the Majority despise him.
One brotherly agenda I’m afraid I’ll never show
Despite my new slogan of ‘Sayam, Shanti, Bhaicharo’.

* * *

‘Let a Minority in Your Life’

Let a Minority in your life,
And your Hindu Rashtra goes askew.
They’ll redecorate your home
From the minar to the dome,
And then go through the ISI-plan of overpowering you.

Let a Minority in your life,
When you should be plunging in a knife.
I’d be equally unwilling
For the English media to be drilling,
Than to ever let a Minority in my life.

Get Me to Dilli Darwaza on Time

My becoming PM’s in the offing.
Ding-dong, the mandir bells are gonna chime.
Aavo, pull out the stopper,
Softliners ne aapo whopper.
But get me to New Delhi on time.

I’m getting there in Moditva’s dawning,
Saffron spruced up, and in its prime.
Togadia, come and kiss me,
Pramod, show you miss me
But get me to Vajpayee’s seat on time!

* * *

‘Just you Wait, Hairy Modi’

Just you wait, Hairy Modi,
Just you wait.
I’m sorry,
And this time it’s all too late.

But when you’re broke, and I have Mani (nagar),
Will I help you?
Don’t be funny.
Oh-ho-ho, Hairy Modi,
Just you wait.

Oooh, Hairy Modi.
Just you wait till you’re swimming in the Sabarmati,
And you lose the seats you’ve won this time from me.
When I see you’re going to drown,
The EC I’ll call to town.
Just you wait, Hairy Modi
Just you wait!


Alec Smart said, “How would you describe the to-ing and fro-ing at the Tatas? Indicom and Indigo”


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