VIVA! - Live In Concert

So how good was it really...? Here's where you 'actually find out'!

I have never really been a TV-lover. Yea, occasionally Star Movies and HBO do keep me up all night, but that’s sporadic. Else, TV’s just not my thing.

So, but natural, what happens to the lives of 5 girls, their journey to stardom, their leap to the stars — and all that crap, is not my piece of cake. I am just not bothered or interested. Reality shows tend to depress you, tense you. A person has so many things in his/her own life to deal with. Hell, whose has the time to think of other’s fate!

So when Channel [V] came up with the supposedly brilliant idea to sponsor five girls and help them make it big in the star-studded world, I couldn’t care less. The Indian version of Spice girls perhaps, but really, face it “ its no biggie!

Now, here comes 1st June. The big promotions in the newspapers and Channel V ” VIVA Live in Concert! “ Modern School Barakhamba Road.I agree I just said its not my idea of hip shaking fun ” but damn, I am a modernite. I should be the first to reach this concert. My school, my domain, how can I miss it? Considering again, few more big names in the pop world are coming down to make the crowd scream for more!Everywhere I went, people I met, everyone enquired about the concert “ ”Did you know, VIVA is’“

”Yea, I know I know! And I am going“

How, I didn’t know! There was no mean to buy the tickets. The banners clearly said ” “Get Lucky, Get Invited”.

So, I decided, I will get invited!

“Kanika, girl your dad’s with Maurya’s, isn’t there a way to get the passes?”

Here I got the shock “ the passes were free, and available to everyone who had a friggin MY COKE. But there was a catch ” VIP passes were available.So after a lot of pestering, I finally got my hands on shining VIP passes. Awesome!

1st June arrived. The whole town was talking about it. People looked at me with envious glances as I passed the 2 km long queue of excited people and beamed my VIP passes to the guard.

“Us taraf se” (from there)

Slowly, I made way through the heaving bodies to reach the prestigious VIP gate.

Holy shit! There was a whole swarm of bodies breaking down the gate. There were about six guards trying to make peace with the crowd, but nope, no one gave a damn about the one in front. I don’t know when I was pushed into the mess and how the howls and screaming pushed me through. All I know is that by the end of it all, I was surprised and disgusted. A familiar red structure faced me — Modern School.

Well, at least I made it in one peace. The loudspeakers rang fast tracks in my ears. Nothing that was even remotely Indian Pop. The big field that is normally bare was fenced with tin sheets. The stage was not visible. The general crowd was pushing its way through a small entry. A lot of screaming and howling. And as my steps progressed, even more so.

There was no checking of passes, no security to maintain discipline. Like dogs, each one made his way through. A very depressing sight. Well, I had an advantage over everyone else — I had VIP passes. A small banner indicated a separate entrance for VIP/Press. As I followed the mark, I was in for another shock. About a thousand people were standing outside the small entry, and through small holes in the sheets, I could see that there was no place for another human being. The field could not hold more than 3,000 people, however the total crowd exceeded 20,000. Like wow, this is what I needed on a Friday evening.Soon, some people broke into the sheets and made their own small entrances, barely big enough for one to squeeze through. Surprise surprise — these were all supposedly VIP pass holders! Girls with tops two sizes too short and guys with pants two sizes too big arm in arm, hand in hand pushed, pushed and pushed. About seven guards took care of the main VIP entry and law and order was at its worst.

I could estimate, there were at least seven to eight thousand entries for VIP’s alone. Suddenly, someone broke down a big banner and a big sheet. Everyone ran back and the crowd cheered louder, harder, meaner. My heart thudded. I hadn’t bargained for this. Someone could get hurt. Someone must’ve got hurt.

I looked behind, the gates had opened again, and around a thousand people more entered the school. No way, I am not staying here. But where do I escape from?

I knew my school well, it has about 5 gates which can lead me out. My first target was the main gate, the one I came in through. People were screaming, trying to climb up the gate, the policemen were hitting people with lathis “ it was disgusting.

I approached a terrified guard.

”Bhaiya, bahar nikalna hai“ (I have to go out)

”Aap is line mein lag jaiye, abhi das minute mein darwaaza kholenge, tab nikaliyega” (Stand in this queue. In about ten minutes we’ll open the gate, then you can go out)

I was scared, what if they open the gates and all these people end up trampling on me? I tried to give the concert another shot — perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

I was right, it wasn’t that bad, it was worse. People were breaking into the sheets with all their might. The police stood helplessly staring at the sky, as if praying to God. Someone pushed a long pole down which provoked more cheering among the crowd. The scene was more diabolic than fun. It was scary. Lots of people were running back occasionally, then cheering on again for the “macho” men to do more stunts.

I ran, and didn’t look back. The main gate had just opened and heaps of sweating bodies excitingly pushed their way through, waving bright red passes in their hands. As I desperately tried to save myself from contact, about a thousand more made their way through. The gates were shut again. On the ground below, about fifty different kinds of footwear dotted the floor. One of each pair “ sandals, shoes or boots ” everything. Imagine, people didn’t even come back to retrieve them. And what would’ve happened to those who got trampled down in the way? Wild. Monsterous.

I shivered. I knew this was not the exit for me. I moved on to yet another that I knew of. The scenario was the same. Seemed like the whole world knew every inch of Modern School on this day. And everyone wanted to be inside. I approached yet another guard.

“Yaha se bahar kaha se nikloo?” (From where do I get out of here?“

”Peeche se, yaha se nahi nikal paoge” (From the back. You wont be able to make it out from here)So I ran towards the back gate. God, where are you today! There were about another thousand beating the hell out of the solid iron gate. Any minute it could break down. I am serious “ this is not an exaggeration! There were a few more people desperate to get out, requesting the guards to give them way.

”Yaha se nahi hoga, aapko Refugee Market se nikalna padega. Yaha se seedha ja kar udhar mudiye, mil jaega. Kahi se bhi nikaliye, par yaha se nahi hoga” (Not from here. You have to exit from the Refugee Market. Go straight and turn there, you’ll find it. Exit from anywhere but here)

Everyone looked confusingly at each other. I knew where Refugee was. I lead them behind me as I tried my way through the way. Finally, I found the small-laned exit to the Refugee Market. It was so unnoticeable that people were surprised that it could be the exit.

Finally, we were on the road, crossing thousands of people excitedly playing with their passes. A woman who had entered with me was yet waiting to get in. Person behind person, the line was endless. I reached my car, and silently thanked God for my escape. I tore my so called VIP passes and threw them away.

Big banners occupied the walls — Viva! Live in Concert