Metallica was coming to India and there was no way I was going to miss them. Years of ‘Kaash India aa jate’ and fervent prayers had paid off. I’m not even going to bother getting into what a big fan of Metallica I am. Anyone who knows me, knows of my love, my devotion towards them.
I picked up tickets for both the gigs but had to cancel my Bangaore trip (terrible decision, in hindsight) I packed my bags and headed to Delhi being unable to believe Metallica would be playing in Haryana, of all the places on their maiden trip here.
After having parked in the dustiest, makeshift parking lot outside a circus, we made our way through the sea of black to the gate. Obviously, I should have expected there wouldn’t be a queue to get inside the venue. Just 5k odd people, on each of the 4 gates tearing down security barricades rushing inside.
There were metal detectors, but switched off. There were security people, but they were busy saving their own lives in the stampede than frisk people. Not to forget, there wasn’t a single lady security personnel to handle women, who formed at least 25% of the audience.
I did not walk into the venue of my own will but like everyone else, I was pushed inside by the millions other behind me. Once inside, I jumped for joy, partly because it was only a matter of time before I saw my gods play and partly because I was happy to be alive and not molested.
Everyone scampered to get the best possible view of the stage before we realised that a portion of the security barricade between the stage and the audience had broken, even before the venue was full. Also the less said the better about the venue. I’ve attended weddings in Delhi that were spread across more area.
The stage crew tried to fix that broken barricade for hours. Every 15 minutes someone would come on stage to request, beg and even abuse us, asking us to take one step behind so that the show could begin on time (Listen up assholes, I want you buttheads to take one step behind). There was only a small issue, it isn’t easy for 25,000 people to take a step behind like some kind of trained army men.
The sun set over Gurgaon and the stage lights shone right into our eyes. Some crew members started to dismantle the drum kit, evidently meant for the opening bands. News trickled in that the opening acts had been shelved and only Metallica was to perform. Great. I hadn’t come to see Biffy Clyro anyway.
The audience though, were getting agitated, fearing the worst. Yet another PA came on stage to brief us about what was happening. The band was in a press conference in the neighboring hotel but they were not to arrive at the venue. ‘Due to some technical problems, the show has been cancelled today, please come tomorrow’
My heart sank, my mind was flustered. ‘Come tomorrow’? Are you serious? What is this? A doctor’s clinic? Ripples of disbelief ran through the crowd as we hooted and booed. My friends started to pull me towards the exit fearing the worst.
Another announcement. ‘Don’t take panic, Don’t take panic! Come tomorrow at 4 ‘o clock!’ I’d have put a bullet between his eyes just for his grammar. Clearly, people at the barricades were not taking this well. As heated words were exchanged, the same fellow howls into the mic. ‘Kaunsi badi baat hai? Kal aa jana na 4 baje!‘
WHAT? I’ve paid you nearly 3k, came through a stampede, stood under the blazing sun for hours for you to tell me ‘Kaunsi badi baat hai’? The fellow was pelted with well aimed plastic bottles. Frustrated he screamed again ‘Agar aise karte rahoge toh kal bhi show nahin hoga‘
Barricades that were already down were broken as a handful of people jumped on stage and chased the fucker down. He yelled ‘Jai Bajrangbali!’ one last time into the mic before beefed up ‘butthead’ and the rest of the crew ran for their dear lives backstage and switched the lights off.
I watched horrified as amps and monitors were thrown down, merchandise and banners set on fire. I’d waited for years for this gig, one more day would’ve made no difference to me then. Refusing to believe that it was logistically impossible for them to reschedule the gig, I just wanted to hear that the gig would indeed happen the next day. I blamed the vandals for the inevitable.
Back home I was dazed as people actually poked fun at our situation, thinking it was funny to ask ‘So, how was the gig?’ Metallica released an official statement the next day and not once did the blame the vandals. Four DNA officials were arrested. It was hardly a consolation.
Now, before I start my rant, I want to make one thing very clear. I have never and will never stand for mindless violence that destroys peace of mind and property.
What got my goat was the ugly face of people I respected, online. Respected names in the Indian metal circuit blaming the fans with their holier than thou attitudes, not for one minute considering what we must’ve been through. ‘You’ve ruined the name of India and killed the nascent metal scene in India’ Sure, fuckers.
Taking potshots on Delhi was another turn off. There were people from all over India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Iran and even Finland in the crowd.
Not once did we feel that we belonged to different cities, to different societies and worlds as we stood there waiting for the greatest Heavy Metal band in the world. The love for good music united us, but I’m guessing arm chair critics will just not get it.
If anyone that night stuck to the stereotype of Delhi laxity, it was the organizers, the security staff and the crew.
Consider this, tickets worth 3k, hours worth of wait, years of anticipation, braving weather, crossing borders and ‘kal aa jana, kaunsi badi baat hai!’
What would you feel? What would you do? What would Jaymz Hetfield, Lars Ulrich and Cliff Burton do?
Think about it.
