swear i wasn't coked out when i tweeted that shit!

swear i wasn't coked out when i tweeted that shit!

A noiseofindia opinion poll has indicated that the nation is still searching for words with which to thank Mr Lalit Modi for the miraculous tweets that emanated from his twitter account one fine April morning. Shortly after taking out their intended target, the tweets suddenly went rogue, provoking leaks, squealings, and other unthinkable breaches of sleazeball etiquette. All of this has been to the utter dismay of our cricket pimps and to the considerable delight of the public. To his credit, Mr Modi continues to remain upbeat, no doubt a little amazed at the selflessness with which he has served the nation, and also somewhat awed by the prospect of being India’s new poster boy for corporate transparency.

The fallout of Modi’s tweets has been phenomenal. It has led to the outing of “IPLGate,” a scandal that promises to open cans of worms as they fly out of Pandora’s boxes and other apt metaphors. As we go to the wires, IPLGate has already claimed a union minister’s job and cast a cloud over some of India’s biggest names and business houses. There are dark suggestions of wild orgies involving sex, drugs, gambling-syndicates, and possible match-fixing. Mr Modi is likely to be sacked too, though he has, in customary fashion, snorted at the suggestion while betting on it.

Mr Tharoor’s resignation was somewhat delayed as ministry officials quibbled over whether to label IPLGate a “shitstorm” or a “clusterf**k” before they briefed the PM. The PM is said to have taken personal interest in the matter as Tharoor was one of his blue-eyed boys. A sharp dresser whose oratorical skills have often lent the UN an aura of relevance, Mr Tharoor has never let a crisis give him a bad hair day. “Our very own coiffure Annan,” Mr Singh is said to have told George Bush in 2006.

When informed that a certain Ms Sunanda Pushkar, Tharoor’s significant other, had illegally received “sweat equity” from the Kochi franchise, the PM reportedly expressed disbelief at the suggestion that Mr Tharoor could have a significant other. It may be recalled that Mr Tharoor has, of late, been preoccupied with his own medical issues—which might include solipcystic psychosis supervenient on narcisscystic hubrosis (chronic).

Goodnight, tweet prince

Goodnight, tweet prince

Following Mr Modi’s revelations, Ms Pushkar has returned her sweat equity on the grounds that “ladies don’t sweat, they perspire.” Mr Tharoor, as per the PM’s instructions, has resigned from his post. Speaking in Parliament, Mr Tharoor first informed the house that his conscience was clear, and then proceeded to sing praises of the party that was dumping him despite having been provided the aforementioned nugget of information. Shrewdly, he quoted a verse from a Malayali poet, thereby demonstrating to his detractors that what he had in common with Mrs. Sonia Gandhi was something unique and inimitable—namely, an accent that was incontestably weird.

Meanwhile, the public is overjoyed at the windfall and is determined that Modi’s providential tweets get their due. Several online petitions have gone out on social media, demanding a Bharat Ratna for the tweets, and also, if possible, a Borat Ratna for Mr Lalit Modi.


Inspired by the IPL, the major news channels have decided to auction off their high-value assets to ride out the recession. Reputed auditing firm Ricewaterspouse has already assessed the anchors and submitted a detailed report to Lalit Modi. Don’t ask us how we laid our grubby hands on page 1 of this confidential report. Just dim your screens and read silently.

(SECURITY LEVEL: mouse cursor on minimize button)

Media assets under consideration



“I’m your soulmate. I complete your sentences, don’t I?”

NAME: Rajdeep “pointus interruptus” Sardesai

SIGNATURE STYLE: Bark excitedly at faces on a giant screen.

USP: Appeals to a wide demographic; incredibly popular with Pomeranians.

CREDO: Create a channel out of thin air, then sustain it on hot air.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Rajdeep’s fanatical commitment to the sound of his own voice has the effect of rendering his guests speechless. Gone are the days when politicians leisurely dangled their modifiers and flaunted their participles while cunningly hiding their main clauses in labyrinths of disclaimers. Today, they hurriedly pack all their meaning into the first half of every sentence. Because once they reach mid-sentence


Does every question in the universe have a Y or N answer? Y-73% N-27%

NAME: Sagarika “faze the nation” Ghose

SIGNATURE STYLE: Maddening high-pitched harangue.

USP: Wields voice with operatic prowess. Can go ultrasonic and sense your location using sonar.

CREDO: Oversimplify or perish.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Knows that India is a nation teeming with objective-type questions. Just SMS QOTD Y or N. There is no negative marking. If you’re a guest, keep it short. If you veer off-script, Sagarika will provide a heart-stoppingly unrecognizable summary of whatever you just said. High on sartorial consistency, sleeves match attention span.

"See the putty in my hands? That's you, dear viewer."

“See the putty in my hands? That’s you, dear viewer.”

NAME: Barkha “she the people” Dutt

SIGNATURE STYLE: Let’s give them something to fight about.

USP: Never ashamed to TeaR uP on camera.

CREDO: Have heartstring, will yank.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: If you’re a guest on her talk show, she will find your raw nerve and sandpaper it till you cry. And then she will cry with you till the ratings go wild. It’s like watching Jerry Springer and Oprah at the same time. As a war correspondent, she will brave gunfire and artillery shells, but not unfriendly blogs. If you so much as suggest that she put soldiers in harm’s way, she will make a Cheytanya Kunte out of you (go ahead, google the poor wretch). Currently anchors a show where the buck stops, but certainly not the bak bak.


For every fact, there is an equal and opposite opinion

NAME: Arnab “the evangelist” Goswami

SIGNATURE STYLE: Incandescent moral outrage of the omniscient admonisher.

USP: Can unleash a 60-minute sermon while pretending to interview 5 guests.

CREDO: The apocalypse is upon us. Follow me.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: In an industry obsessed with objectivity and balance, Arnab comes as a breath of fresh air. In a nation obsessed with humility and wisdom, Arnab comes as a breath of fresh air. Every evening, Arnab’s forensic pyrotechnics make you question the need for a judicial system in a nation equipped with television studios. A man of destiny, Arnab knows that he will one day save the world. Not surprisingly, he dresses like Clark Kent.



“I’m Socrates. You’re a gorgeous Athenian lad.”

NAME: Karan Thapar

SIGNATURE STYLE: Nitpick. Nitpick. Nitpick.

USP: Extremely well connected.

CREDO: The privilege is all yours.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Talking to Thapar is the verbal equivalent of getting a colonoscopy. Not recommended unless medically necessary, and never to be attempted in public. Typical interview fragment:

Thapar: You’re not saying “yes”…. so does that mean you’re saying “no”?
Guest: Not exactly.
Thapar: Ok so you’re saying “not exactly”….. Does that mean a “not exactly yes” or a “not exactly no”?
Guest: I’m saying neither.
Thapar (narrowing his eyes): So you’re not saying “yes”, you’re not saying “no”, you’re not saying “not exactly yes”, and you’re not saying “not exactly no”… Would that be a correct assessment of what you’re saying?
Guest: I suppose so.
Thapar: You just contradicted yourself! A moment ago you were absolutely certain and now you’re no longer sure.
Guest: Well that’s because-
Thapar: Thank you. It’s been a pleasure talking to you.


“tell me honestly… didn’t you think Skylab would fall on your head?”

NAME: Shekhar Gupta

SIGNATURE STYLE: Obscure 80s nostalgia.

USP: Frighteningly well connected.

CREDO: Let’s Walk the Talk. You walkie, me talkie.

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Walks and talks with VIPs so VVIP that they won’t be caught dead near a television studio. Is the most hilariously inattentive interviewer in the industry. Typical interview fragment:

Shekhar: So tell me about your strained relations with Pranab Mukherjee.
Chidambaram: As I was saying, last Sunday I had had just about enough of his nonsense. So I-
Shekhar: You mean the PM?
Chidambaram: Not the PM. Pranab Mukherjee. So as I was saying, I went up to him and told him to take a flying
Shekhar: I remember during Rajiv Gandhi’s time you were criticized for fixing the price of tea.

preload preload preload

© 2021 Noiseofindia