----and then there was noise.

Sepultura, Brazil’s heavy metal band has been on my radar– mostly from the t-shirts that heavy metal fans wear. The first time I heard them was in the smoky confines of a pub called Purple Haze, so when I saw billboards advertising their concert in Bangalore I was pretty keen to spend some of my hard earned money on them.

It was less an investment on music appreciation than on another course in social anthropology.

There are a few things that a metal aficionado needs to do when going to a rock concert

• Scrounge for money to get that ‘exclusive’ ticket
• Get a heavy metal t-shirt, preferably with the bands moniker, if not any other metal band’s brand would do
• Roll doobies to take into the show
• Find ways to ensure that the doobies don’t fall into the groping hands of the security. This is also a dilemma for those wanting to bring in alcohol.
• Find the nearest bar a few hours before the concert to tank up.

For those who easily loose their way, the way of finding the route is to

• Follow cars filled with young people drinking to the music of said band
• Follow anyone with a bandanna and a heavy metal t-shirt

The concert was held in Palace Grounds owned by one of the many erstwhile kings who now earn their keep by renting out their estates for all kinds of events. Palace Grounds, of course houses a palace, but also includes a horse riding school, marriage lawns and other things needed by society.

The roads inside the grounds were dark and we followed the others in blind faith. A traffic policeman whistled us to a piece of land that had become the day’s parking spot. We walked to the gates of the concert area passing islands of men-in-black preparing themselves for the concert, interspersed between them were hawkers selling all forms of sustenance. The gates had professional gropers whose main job was to ensure that nothing besides the people with tickets got in.

The grounds were empty barring a black mass congregated right in front of the stage. It was a scene reminiscent to the oft seen one in the wild of Africa where animals of all shapes and sizes congregate at the last watering hole in a drought.

We missed the opening act, but we got in just before Sepultura got on stage. When they began their first song the modern version of a traditional Indian welcome was given. Almost everyone took out their phones, held it above their heads to record the band. It looked like mechanical glow worms emitting blue light.

As I watched this band some things struck me about this genre of music – the drummer has the hardest job in the world. He pounds the skins till they bleat for mercy, he works up a sweat that puts anyone doing aerobics to shame. Further, no matter how much the lead singer tries to obfuscate the lyrics there will be die hard fans who sing along with him. The only word I could recognize was ‘biotech’ in a song called ‘godzilla’ (I think), while those around me gargled the lyrics along with Derrick Green.

One didn’t need to carry personal doobies, it was just enough to breathe to get a high. The crowd in front had created a mosh pit where everyone was being pushed around. Fans were charging into others, though they were trying to do it to the beat of the music it proved to be quite difficult. They were dervishes of a new generation, of a new form of music that preached peace and other such things in a manner that suggested just the opposite.

However it seemed that though the music was violent and the actions of the fans were synchronous to the music they were in effect regular guys. This was just another form of letting their hair down.

And so, it all came to an end at 21.30 which surprised some of the foreigners with us. I could only say that the authorities were slowly transforming us into Cinderellas in their vague attempts to protect us from crime and prevent crime.