The weird mix of characters you run into at every concert in India. Love them,or hate them for their idiosyncrasies, but you just cant ignore them.
The Jatt aka “Delhi se hoon B*##$%”
The guy is a staple at every concert in India, He takes machismo a bit too seriously and lives by the motto “No ifs, No buts just Jatt” They have that desi swag acquired over years of listening to Yo Yo, Raftaar and Lil Golu. They are usually fun to be around but a few too many “Patiala Pegs” and things go Batshit faster than you can say “What the Bhen?” .
The Pseudo Frat Bro
The “Amrika return” who spent one semester at Uni as an exchange student and didn’t receive any bids while pledging but aspired to bring frat life to India while he cried away his semester as a GDI. Dressed in boat shoes, Polo’s and Preppy shorts he is mostly seen shotgunning a beer in the parking lot driving his “Willys” bought with “Daddyji ka cash”. Rarely ever seen in isolation this species is found in herds usually drinking Kingfisher draught and planning their next Goa trip.
The perpetual stoner:
This species is easily recognizable with his Rasta T-shirt and beads that signal every cop in a hundred mile radius. They show up right outside the concert grounds preying on unsuspecting victims. His vocabulary is limited to “Manali Cream” “Charlie””Marley” “Idukki gold” and a liberal usage of the word “Brooooo” and “Dyuuude”. His conversations revolve around “We should just legalize it bro” and his upcoming fictional trip to Amsterdam as soon as he gets out of his parents’ basement.
The Instagram addicts aka “Duck faces”:
Yes I’m talking to all of you instagrammers, snapchatters and tweetards at the concert. We all know that annoying friend who takes a million selfies each time he visits the bathroom and does not yet understand the words “personal space” .This species spends more time taking pictures to relive the moment and less time actually living the moment. An even more annoying variant is the candid DSLR photographer who tags you in a picture you would give your left arm to delete before judgmental aunties and your extended family in Mogadishu catch whiff of it on Facebook.
The reluctant hipster
The Desi hipster screams anti-establishment from head to toe, his loud Che Guevara T shirt, Bed head hair and a beard that looks messed up but is the result of an hour of careful grooming and preening. They are usually the ones condescending to their friends about their taste in music and pooh poohing their life decisions while smoking a joint and staring into the horizon derisively. They are usually talking about how the “real artists” of the indie underground rock scene are unrecognised by the capitalist music companies and how post modern instrumental fusion is their favourite thing to groove to.