FOC basis

It was SRCC alumni on 2nd Sunday of Feb. Though it has never been a fun to attend the function in past years, but the attachment factor with those rust color bricks of my College building pulls me towards it always. Realising that the sun had already set, I called up few of my close mates to join me for the event. But noone was willing to go this time. I tried to convince them that it wld be a better affair this time. No luck.
“I have a better plan”, replies Harsh (one of my better friend during College days, the other one being Sidharth. I am mentioning his name just to even out between both of them. Though he would hardly care and count on his name being not written on my stupid blog). His plans have always sucked which could never go beyond having dinner at the nearest possible restaurant (to his house) and then straight to home. It used to be so short and restricted that you could not catch even a glimpse of any girl.
“Ok, go ahead”, as I never had so much guts to not even listen to his plan. Though at the end I had always been able to convince him that it’s the worst plan anyone could come out with. I was hoping the same this time too.
“We would be going to some holy prayer kind of thing with music and all at an auditorium in Janak Puri, then have dinner there and rush to my MBA Institute fest at Qutab institutional area”, comes back Harsh with once in a lifetime innovative plan.
Though I didn’t want to break my record by not going to alumni function, but this plan was somewhat appealing me. The only apprehension was ‘some-holy-prayer-kind-of-thing-with-music-and-all’. I had to convince myself too, to go to such kind of thing, which was already sounding like a middle-age thing to me. It would be difficult to tell even other bunch of friends that I attended something like that.
“some-holy-prayer-kind-of-thing-with-music-and-all, whats that exactly???”, I tried to check if he is not taking me to some old age home, wherein they would be showing us their childhood talents!!
“Even I don’t know exactly, but my cousin is insisting me to come along with him. He says its some ‘Art of Living’ concert and this very famous guy, Sahil Jagtiani, is coming all the way from London for this concert and that too for the first time in India. Since my cousin is a doctor, so I have trusted on him that it would be good”, affirms Harsh. Now this is the longest thing ever said by him in his defence. Not that the length of his reply convinced me, but the fact that it was an idea given by his cousin. Plus the fact that it would be followed by dinner and festival night, I gave up my attachment for my alma mater (mind you…that’s for one day only).

“Do you have enough passes or tickets for the concert (me, Harsh, his cousin and Sidharth)”, I enquired.
“Its Free of Cost (FOC). Everyone is invited, it’s the concert for God. And there are no restrictions for chanting God’s name.”. I was wondering if that’s really Harsh speaking or he has read lot many books on ‘Art of Living’ in a single day on inspiration from his cousin.
“We are going as you are insisting so much, but I don't think you'll get to listen to much of the concert if its free of cost. We would not even know if he is chanting God’s name or doing some rock and rap”, I cautioned.
“What nonsense, we must go to the live concert when we have got an invite”, counters Harsh. Now that’s like him, coming up with the most illogical reply, which you can never counter, and off we went for the evening at the concert.

We reached the venue at the right time, on the dot of 7 pm as required. The place was packed. I hadn't realised that dilliwalas liked concert so much, said Sidharth. They don't; they like freebies, I replied. For like almost all cultural events in the Capital, the evening was free of charge. And the Dilliwalas likes nothing better — no, not even Butter Chicken or Veg Manchurian — than something, anything, that's free of charge.

Eventually, we found seats on the extreme corner. We couldn't see the stage or the performer. But we could watch the proceedings on a TV monitor. At least I assumed it was the monitor, because two minutes after we sat down we couldn't see the TV screen, or anything much else except the substantial posteriors (all that Butter Chicken and Veg Manchurian) of Delhi's freebie culture groupies who had come and stood in front of us to gain a ringside view of the tamasha. Doesn't matter, said Amit Bhaiya (Harsh’s cousin) gamely. One doesn't have to see a Concert, one hears it; just shut your eyes and listen, he instructed. So I shut my eyes and listened.

Was it my imagination or had Sahil Jagtiani lost — or gained — something during recitation? Or did he really have a passage in which someone attempted to ascertain the current whereabouts of some Girish, Oye saale, where are you, yaar? What, you're finding place to do soo-soo?, How bewaqoof you are, so many trees all around, just do it behind one of them. What?, scorty guards are standing under trees to stop people doing soo-soo? Inko bhi doosra koi kaam nahi hai, oof oh, just go behind stage where they are making all that halla-gulla and do your soo-soo there only, no?

Then there was this dude, Rakesh yaar, this concert-suncert is very boring yaar. Saale I had come out just coz I dint have money to buy movie ticket…isse accha cable pe hi Guru dekh leta. But there are actually nice chiks which has come around this place. Are they really so dharmic?? Ya fir they have come in look out for some handsome eligible dude just like me. Oh hoo…ofcourse you as well. Tu offended kyu hota hai..tu aur main to same hi hain naa yaar.

And another soloist on the other side was enquiring of Bhabhiji what she was making for dinner, and how nice this concert was, the kiddies were having such fun, running around and screaming, it was better than going to joo itself, and best part was it was all for muft, yes, yes, I'm telling, absolutely free, you must come also next time... Somewhere along the line I think the Guitar of Sahil Jagtiani gave up and began to fake it, silently stringing the music as Airtel and Hutch took over from there.

Isnt concert nice?, asks Amit Bhaiya. I nod. We are in the cellphone-free car moving swiftly towards IMI festival, listening to Rang de basanti. (or is it jai mata di?? Atleast its not looless Girish, or another handsome dude Rakesh, or a bhabhiji cooking dinner). Inclinations of people towards freebies and their behaviour were not actually a cultural shock to me, being born and brought up in Delhi. The city gets supplied more culture per resident than it does such non-essential items like water and electricity. For people from outside, dilli’s public culture shauk is liable to induce terminal culture shock.