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I’m going solo with Diljit Dosanjh
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I’m going solo with Diljit Dosanjh

Due to a series of events that were not supposed to lead me to Diljit Dosanjh’s flagship show Dil-Luminati in Delhi, I was alone at the concert. On the night of the show, my cousins ​​told me they had a spare ticket—but it wasn’t in the same venue as them. I would actually go to the concert alone. I hesitated a bit – a high-energy gig like Diljit needs group vibes – and gave in. What’s the worst that could happen? I would get bored and leave. And so, I swapped my heels for a pair of borrowed trainers, hopped in the car and then waved goodbye to them at gate number 14 of the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium.

I found a seat and started my solo wait for the concert to start when suddenly a friendly girl named Kritika said hi and asked if I was single. I nodded. She promised me that she and her group of friends would stay with me all evening. I thought they were passing drunken jokes, but I thought they were fun, so I went along with it.

Now, I’m somewhat of an ambivert – I’m not too introverted to go through life without talking to people, nor am I extroverted enough to strike up a conversation with a stranger. If Kritika hadn’t spoken to me, I would never have invited myself to their group. I was hoping to see familiar faces and bump into friends, but instead I found myself happily dancing with a group of strangers (my knees still hurt!). Our group continued to grow, more Diljit enthusiasts joined and gave some incredible support bhangra movements.

Star concerts have such an energy – it’s a massive dance party and everyone is invited. There were people playing Diljit in his black kurta and turban; many were wearing Diljit t-shirts. With Diljit, the energy is even more infectious as he brings the Punjabi fervor to the stage. He opened with his slogan “Punjabi aa gaye apna desh oye“and continued to perform new pieces such as Naincrowd favorites as Loved and GOAT and his older hits like Laembadginiand Delhiites were in no mood to end the evening. It was the first time I had witnessed a concert of this magnitude by an Indian performer and it was electrifying.

At DIljit Dosanjh concert in Delhi.

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At DIljit Dosanjh concert in Delhi. (Suneera Tandon Ringtone)

For many like me – mid-30s and post-covid – they were aware that life is fleeting. It created a desire to choose every experience and own it. It’s why we rave about our travels and why more Indians are paying a premium and going the distance (queues at Coldplay, anyone?) to experience comedy shows, concerts and shows. It feeds our curiosity, gives us something to look forward to, is a form of social currency. For someone like me, it’s simply giving myself permission to enjoy things that were once out of reach.

This means I’m more comfortable now traveling alone, making friends along the way and opening myself up to experiences that may seem strange and taking risks that lead to extraordinary results. To meet a 19-year-old Chinese student who came up to me at a bar in Baku in August after seeing me having a drink alone. Again, I shouldn’t have been there. The friend I was traveling with had decided to call it a night at 10pm, but I was curious about Baku’s nightlife.

It was Saturday, the best time to explore the local music scene in the Nizami neighborhood. We stumbled upon Rumors, a tiny club with a large window that gave a glimpse of a shiny disco ball suspended from a neon ceiling and a female DJ. I went inside, grabbed a beer and tried to enjoy the music, feeling a little lost and alone.

Then the young man approached me, inviting me to join him and his friend Maureen. It turned out they were strangers too, each exploring the city’s nightlife on their own. They met at the bar and started talking. Over the next hour, we shared stories about our lives, past solo trips, upcoming trips, and tips on things to do around Baku. It was perfect and I realized that sometimes strangers really are your best company and saviors, if only for a brief moment. My shyness to sit in a corner and drink a beer by myself paid off, as did my drive to put aside my reluctance and socialize with complete strangers.

The writer with strangers who became friends at a bar in Baku, Azerbaijan.

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The writer with strangers who became friends at a bar in Baku, Azerbaijan. (Suneera Tandon Ringtone)

It was a lesson I relearned at the Delhi concert. Diljit himself was not scheduled to perform in Delhi on October 27. The original show was on October 26, but an extra performance was added on Sunday due to overwhelming fan demand. Technically, neither of us were supposed to be there, but luck brought us together. As I walked out into a sea of ​​people, all excited about the performance, it felt like a personal victory to walk out solo in a world that believes we all need to be plugged in and connected.