In case you haven’t noticed, this blog has been going through a dry patch lately. And by dry patch I mean Ponting-in-IPL-2013 kind of a patch.  I usually blame others for my failures so I’ll blame Sharmila Tagore for this particular one.


Now that we have that out of the way, here are a few bullet points:

– 2013 has been a stupid year so far. Part depressing, part wonderful but overall stupid. It can’t make up its mind about how it wants to treat me. There are days when I feel it likes me and then it dropkicks me into an abyss of hopelessness, the kind where Anu Malik’s music plays on a loop. Not that 2012 was any better. 2012 was to me what Raju Chacha was to Ajay Devgn’s career. It was like Cocktail with a wonderful first half and a loony second half that had me running for life, shelter and other important things. I expect nothing less from 2013 and so far it has been failing me fabulously.

– has a new design and Lara Dutta has left the building. You can now read this blog on a computer, laptop, tablet, phablet, phone, all the samsung galaxies and anything else you read things on.

– now has 100+ subscribers and is officially the most popular blog in Journalist’s Colony, Thiruvanmiyur.

– Big shout out to people who have been popping in every now and then to give valuable feedback about this blog(like ‘please delete the blog’ and ‘want to get more $$$, click here’). Also much love to the person who wrote that letter in someone else’s blood urging me to stop writing.

– Unfortunately, like Srini mama’s resignation, that’s not happening.

So see you around. Expect a few blog posts here and there. A few announcements. Some GIFs. Tons of other stuff that you can ignore without worrying about your conscience.



P.S.: N. R. Narayana Murthy ji, welcome back to Infosys.


Open letter to anyone.

Dear all,

Thank you for your outrage on rape. It was very important. Your marches and petitions have been well received. Really. I wish you all the success in your future endeavors and sincerely hope that the change you are trying to bring, is brought, swiftly and properly.

But since educating the youth, sex-education, judicial reforms, women empowerment and measures such as banning chowmein will take a few more decades to arrive, there are more things you can do.

Like applying for a gun license for your wife/girlfriend/female friends. Ask them to shoot any molester/eve-teaser/potential rapist at sight. Remember that this is a country where they’ll get convicted for murder, serve the sentence and will be out sooner than justice is delivered if a rape incident happens. Ask them to shoot at the penis so even if the person isn’t killed, he and his masculinity suffers enough. Ask them not to spare teenagers or old men because rapists are not human, not in the moment they are not. Ask them to be prepared for revenge, media attention and shit that comes as a packaged deal. If you can’t afford a gun, buy her a knife. A taser. Buy her anything that hurts her offenders more than they hurt her.

Be wary of all men. Including family. Remember that a rapist was driving your kids to school. Treat everyone with suspicion. Even your milkman. Your husband’s best friend. Your husband. Any thing that has a penis. Safety is just an illusion.

When your girl is old enough, send her to a country that treats its women with respect. Hard to find a place but there must be an island or two on the world map that will meet this requirement. Don’t trust Indian cities. All Indian cities are fucked up irrespective of which end of the map  you are looking at. So are the villages. Safe country is another illusion. Remember ‘Legitimate rape’?

Befriend policemen and politicians. Get to know your MLA. Choose a political party. Buy them booze and cigarettes. Bribe them. Remember that you live in a country where you don’t get a fucking driving license without bribing someone, justice is a far, far call. Remember those kids who died saving their friend?

Teach your girl how to fight. Learn how to fight.

Teach your son to respect women. Teach him till he understands. If he doesn’t, shoot him too.

Make lots of friends. Only a mob can fight another.

If nothing else, buy them a poison pill so they can kill themselves while there’s still time. You’ll be arrested for abetment of suicide but it will probably be worth it.

Remember that there are more rapists out there than policemen and sometimes there’s no difference between the two.

Most of all.


Remember that every douchebag you tolerate now adds to a populace that’ll blame your girl for her suffering. They don’t care if she is 6-year-old or 66. It is always her fault. Or culture’s fault. Or chowmein’s fault. The most they’ll do is cancel the registration of a bus. That, for them, solves everything. That or the ‘maoist’ label.


That there is no Batman. Your fights are your own. To the the Government and the police you are just a statistic. Just another figure in their yearly compensation estimate. Nothing more.

Go to those candle marches. Burn a few candles. Burn a few men too. Just like they burnt that woman after her gang rape.

Sign petitions. It is easier than signing those medical inspection forms.

Vote. Topple governments. Two men threw a bomb in the assembly once. These are your bombs. Move governments, move ministers. Vote for scum that works for you rather than scum that works for no one. Play dirty, those goons who tease your daughter everyday already are.

Thank you once again for your outrage.

Keep it up.

Keep it burning.


Tantanoo’s survival guide for the end of the world, the latest twilight movie and other disasters: Part 1

According to a 5125 year old calendar-maker who got bored of counting days, Nostradamus and John Cusack, the world is coming to an end on 21st December 2012. While a lot of people dismiss this as a rumor or a theory, I firmly believe that this is true. Why? Because Sachin Tendulkar hasn’t announced his retirement yet. So when the world ends on 21st December 2012, Sachin remains unbeaten. Not out. See?

Also notice that the end of the world falls on a Friday. So you’d be waltzing into Heaven or Hell on the weekend. No need to book Hobbit tickets for Sunday then. They’ll probably be showing that in 3D in one of the punishment rounds in Hell. Over and over again.

In case you’ve decided not to give up and go down tweeting, you’ll need to come up with a plan. Like Kate Winslet did when she pushed Leonardo D’Caprio off the raft in Titanic. But since you’ve been busy tweeting and lining up for the latest iPhone, you can follow a simple three pronged plan to survive the end of the world.

In Part 1 of our survival kit, we give you the most important mantra for surviving the worst weekend in the History of mankind(since the weekend Jaani Dushman released):

So here goes, Tantanoo’s Apocalypse Survival Mantra No. 1: Team Up

I cannot stress this enough.

Unless you are Bruce Willis, do not attempt to survive the Apocalypse alone. It’s futile. It is like going to a Wimbledon mixed doubles match without a partner(or with Mahesh Bhupathi). So the first step of our genius plan is to team up with someone. Here are our top three picks for your perfect Apocalypse partner:

1.  Shia LaBeouf:

You read that right.


Shia LaBeouf tops our list of best partners for surviving any type of apocalypse. If you are thinking how a twenty-something scrawny lad will help you in surviving the horrors of doomsday, think again. Shia LaBeouf is no ordinary man.

To begin with he’s the son of Indiana-fucking-Jones!

This guy was dealing with Aliens and an ageing Harrison Ford when you were copying Chemistry assignments in the lab. Not only that, he was Constantine’s best friend. Then he befriended an Alien Camaro with feelings and a Truck with a sword. This guy has saved the earth multiple times from aliens, robots and more Megan Fox movies. When normal people die, they go to heaven. When Shia LaBeouf dies, he goes to robot heaven – and returns. That is how awesome he is. Easily the most recommended guy on our list to team up with. Once you are saved by Shia, you can kill him or dump him like both his leading actresses did. Win-win situation if you ask us.

2. Will Smith:

If Will Smith were somewhat younger now, he’d have had top position in our plan.


That or if he were the son of Indiana-fucking-Jones.

But even without those qualities, Will Smith ranks very highly in our Perfect-Partner-For-The-End-Of-The-World rankings. Will Smith has qualities that require multiple Linkedin profiles. He specializes in Aliens(including martin lawrence). He once drove an Alien spaceship to drop Jeff Goldblum and a Nuclear Bomb on an alien mothership. (Sadly, he had to bring Jeff Goldblum back because they were running out of babysitters for dinosaurs.) He apparently has super powers(and the worst superhero name) as well. He has also dealt with robots, zombies and Salma Hayek. He is especially useful in zombie situations since zombies love american rappers. His resume also features boxing and a son who learnt kung-fu from Jackie Chan(who learnt kung-fu from Priyadarshan movies). Need we say more?

3. Liam Neeson:


With Liam Neeson on your side, you get the combined awesomeness of Aslan, Qui-Gon Jinn, John ‘Hannibal’ Smith and Ra’s al Ghul. Just mention the word ‘kidnap’ and watch him go all George Bush on all aliens and zombies around.


An important part of teaming up is to know which ones to avoid. So here’s our top three people to avoid during an apocalypse:

1. Morgan Freeman: Because Morgan Freeman is God. So he is the one to be blamed for apocalypse and shit. Why’d you like to team up with someone whose only response to your cries of help is a ‘I told you so’ in a deep, comforting voice.


2. Sean Bean: Because –


3. Akshay Kumar: Because it is easier to put up with an apocalypse than an Akshay Kumar laugh.

Coming soon: Tantanoo’s survival guide for the end of the world, the latest twilight movie and other disasters: Part 2 – ‘Why your Kindle is useless during a Zombie Apocalpyse?’


(P.S.: Did you go for the latest twilight movie? Don’t wait till December 21st. Die already.)


Tantanoo goes house-hunting in Chennai – Part 2

Dear friends, readers and that occasional Renuka Shahane admirer,  welcome to the second edition of ‘Tantanoo goes house-hunting in Chennai’.

In the last episode, you read about my adventures with Sulekha.

This episode begins with a riddle: duraipakamoppAKDRtowergrndflorfivehundredmfromOMR

This was one of the clues on the Amazing Race – Shollinganallur Edition and as you might have guessed, it translates to “Thoraipakkam, Opposite AKDR Tower, Ground Floor, Five hundred meters from Old Mahabalipuram Road” (I think). With advertisements like these, I had almost given up on the interwebz. I had also never imagined that bachelorhood was going to be such a big hurdle in such an insignificant test in life. So I decided to give up on bachelorhood too.



During this time, I also contacted someone called Mr. Money. I sent a senti text message to him wondering if he’d consider bachelors for his house. Mr. Money wrote an elaborate response to my emotional message – ‘NO’.

Anyway, how often do you get a chance to meet someone called Money?

We were in constant touch with brokers who showed us 37 apartments all near Indira Nagar Water Tank. One of them was in a locality that’ll feature in Slumdog Millionaire’s sequel. Then we saw another one, that was actually in a decent place but the owners had an overnight change of heart and informed us the next day that they probably won’t let it out to bachelors. Then we saw a few apartments in a neighbourhood that’s the underbelly of the RO Water syndicate that converts corporation water into bullion(a RO water distributor once offered a friend of mine a job supplying water cans that paid more than his software-job salary but that’s for another day). The cherry on the cake was this apartment in the same area that had a different color on each wall. So one wall was pink, the next one yellow and the one right next to it was green. There was a brown wall in there somewhere as well. It had two beds, both from different parts of India.


(Hope was running as thin as Keira Knightly)

I had some help though. A friend from twitter(and Facebook) who wishes to stay anonymous, sent me a message that read as if it has come from ISI:

Agent – 990031231231231

Agent 2 – 99812621231212

Agent 3 – 89213127124213

Agent Alwarpet – 9921312731273

Agent Anand – 993298423423

Agent Gopalapuram – 98234823423424

Agent Jinnah Bhai – 983242342342

Agent Mohan – 993298423423

Agent Munish – 9921312731273

Agent Pugazh – 993298423423

Agent Senthil – 9921312731273

Agent Thomas – 993298423423

Agent Tony – 9921312731273

Agent Vinayagham – 993298423423

Jinnah and Anand are recommended.

The only thing missing in that message was an Agent Vinod.

The craiglist person from the previous episode responded, btw:

I had a few questions:

a) Who will be signing the agreement? One person or all of you? What happens is one person leaves the group?

d) Who will take responsibility for upkeep of the house?

c) Nowadays the security conditions are very stringent. Are you willing to sign the police form with photo etc?

These are some of the questions I had. I have nothing against bachelors but due to illegal activities there are a lot of security considerations.

I actually wanted to meet this guy and answer all his questions while trying to keep a straight face but then a friend’s boss’s boss contacted us and we learned that his house is emptay!




So, come October, I’ll be living in this house that’s both in Chennai and not in Chennai(it’s behind the DLF IT Park, I have my doubts). It’s the Schrodinger’s cat of houses.

and I hate it.

I hate change.

I hate it more than I hate Youtube ads. Most of all, I hate the idea of not living in this apartment anymore. This house has been some semblance of a home in Chennai. Once upon a time when I was struggling in a PG accomodation with water so hard, it turned my ass into pumice stone, I chanced upon the ad for this house. We fought with the PG guy, lost a bit of money and moved into this apartment. It was a fully-serviced apartment with multiple geysers and multiple bais. I could see my office from the balcony along with some pretty women and balding uncles in veshtis gathering for evening adda. We didn’t pay any safety deposit and my roommates were awesome. There was a basketball hoop, two TT tables and a Japanese restaurant. There was a driveway and a banyan tree. There were pigeons – having sex, infiltrating the kitchen, playing antakshari early in the morning and most importantly – shitting on the AC. There were card games that lasted all night and then people went to office and ran the same script multiple times on a production server and almost got fired. There were marathon chai sessions followed by carrom sessions followed by more chai. There were girls living in the apartment across the floor. There was a wi-fi connection that was named after their flat. There were jamming sessions with lyrics on a Macbook and chords on an iPhone.

It will be tough leaving all this behind(and traveling 13 kilometers a day to bitch about OpenOffice). But now I live with people with hairy chests who refuse to wear t-shirts.  People who watch Life OK for hours while nibbling on a Snickers bar and would bicker over 30 bucks. People who’ve abused the fridge so much, it sometimes weeps at night. People who I feel should be castrated so they don’t produce more of their kind(yeah, I hate them THAT much).

So for the greater good of mankind(and for the greater good of my blood pressure), I’ll be moving to a new address, a new home. It’s a blank canvas and I’ll get to color it as I want. If all is well, I’ll probably have @prdyt as a neighbour and we’ll form a coalition and bring Twitter down. There’ll be more stories, more lafda to blog about.

and there’ll always be pigeons.