Let there be rock DOS

The lights came in every hue and looked down upon us. Showering their light contemptuously at the millions of onlookers among which there was I. The place felt like a Rastafarian party. It reminded me of the good old days of ‘Hare Rama Hare Krsna’ being ad-libbed by saffron clad and long haired hippies promoting world peace and legalization of Hashish. There was a cloud of smoke in my vicinity and what more, it seemed to be perpetual. As one cloud would move on, another would strategically take its place. It wasn’t all tobacco, there was a lot of weed too, guess that was the saving grace. And then this stick wearing a dress apparates and he’s wet and is wearing this gigantic hat and I’m like, ‘What the hell is that?’ It’s (He’s) the epitome of glam rock. Steven Tyler.

And almost instantly he gets to work. The previous night Siddharth and me were listening to all Aerosmith songs(a pathetic attempt), so that on the D Day we wouldn’t look like schmucks head banging to stuff we didn’t know while the crowd chanted the song in unison, almost mocking us.

And then the song started. And I didn’t know it. I turned around to see Sid, with empty eyes, as though hinting to him the ignominy of being a fallen pseudo-fan. Sonam didn’t care much. She was too busy balancing herself on her toes, trying to get a glimpse of the onstage act, or so I though.

And then it happened again, the next song too! No clue whatsoever! Zilch! Yet I regained my confidence and started jumping up and down screaming, hooting and well trying to get a hint of the chorus. Boy was I looking like a jackass. My huge overgrown body screaming for me to cease the relentless motion. Telling me that I wasn’t meant for this sort of physical activity. Begging me to stop. And the weed.

And the weed

And the weed

It just kept coming from all directions, as though I was a sort of beacon and it surrounded me.

Tyler sang “Crazy”. Ah finally something familiar. Oh so familiar. The large screens started playing the video and almost everyone’s gaze fell to the young and carefree Alicia Silverstone (who features in the video).

Suddenly my ears get to hear the incoherent vocals from spaghetti clad damsel who is riding a man’s shoulder as though in a rodeo bar. Intoxicated probably because what she was singing didn’t make much sense.

Another thing I noticed during the concert was that Steven Taylor isn’t afraid of his sexuality. I understand the whole glam rock set up, but come on…

then there's this....

Oh come on, get a room!

After that Joe Perry announces that the true reason he’d come to India weren’t the elephants or the spices, its Kamasutra. He wanted to thank the nation of a billion where the Kamasutra took its birth and ironically people were forbidden to speak about it as though it doesn’t exist. I mean come on! A country of a billion people, somebody must be seriously getting laid!

Honestly, that is just freaky. Its like a cave! I have never seem a man with a mouth so wide!

Well, the concert was short, or so it seemed, apparently they sang a dozen songs. In between they decided to bring a couple of chairs and chill there.

Tyler was obsessed with saying ‘Namaste’, I think someone told him that it was the Indian equivalent of “Rock on dude!”, coz that’s the zeal with which he kept announcing it. The crowd was maniacal. Millions of yuppies head banging and swaying. I’d say it was a nice experience.