Pearl Jam – Live in Concert

26th June 2007, Copenhagen

The selfish, they’re all standing in line
Faithing and hoping to buy themselves time
Me, I figure as each breath goes by
I only own my mind

Tuesday morning started with a desperate wait for Tuesday evening, and for a change time flew just as fast as we wanted it to; maybe time is a Pearl Jam fan too.

They said the gates open at 6, and the show starts at 8; so of course the crowds began to gather the night before. The stadium was packed. Danes, Swedes, Brits, a few Indians, and some other accent owners that I couldn't place, all crowded around waiting, watching...

The waiting drove me mad...
You're finally here and I'm a mess.
I take your entrance back -
Can't let you roam inside my head.

And then it happened, just like that, he walked on to the stage, with his guitar and sang. Eddie Vedder was singing on stage. Some people froze in awe (me included), others stomped to his tunes, and others wore looney grins. It was finally Tuesday!

No starry airs, no rock star antics, just a song -Throw Your Arms Around Me, a big hello and an introduction to the opening act - some big noisy mistake from the UK called Future Head. For the next one hour this poor band made their noises under the pressure of opening for Pearl Jam, while the crowd caught up with friends, hoarded up on the beer and queued up to the loo.

And then they were back. Pearl Jam. With a mind blowing set - Long Road, Corduroy, Why Go, Do the Evolution, In Hiding, Love Boat Captain, Love Reign O'er Me (performed live for the first time ever!), Severed Hand, Light Years, Marker in the Sand, Given to Fly, Breath, I Am Mine, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, Hard to Imagine, Life Wasted and Porch.

Throats were burning, legs were cramping and hands were sore, but the music kept flowing. The first encore began with a much expected anti-war message -No more (a solo, brilliant of course) followed up by World Wide Suicide, Down, Once, Black and Alive.

After this any hope for the throats was lost, it just got crazier and crazier. No matter how tired you are of Alive, you just couldn't help jumping up and down and screaming out the song. Stomp, stomp, clap, clap, scream, scream.

Turns out Pearl Jam played on the same day, 15 years ago for the first time in Copenhagen. The second encore began with a thank-you from the band to the crowd, and a few words in memory of the accident that killed nine people during a Pearl Jam performance in 2000. Eddie Vedder was as brilliant with the little speech as he was with the music. More screaming, more clapping, more stomping.

Betterman, Yellow Ledbetter and then the lights came on, for the last song of the night – Rockin’ in the Free World. I am not sure how to describe it, I could say it was sensational, but that would be insulting to the band, I could say it was orgasmic, but it won't cover the emotion, I guess you just had to be there.

Any regrets? Sure! No last kiss, that would have been sweeet! And yeah I’d have liked to switch places with the Swedish girl (in my head - COW) who got to jump on stage and exchange kisses with Eddie, loads of little Swede girl voodoo dolls doing the round in Copenhagen, I hope.

I will come to you in the daytime
I will raise you from your sleep
I will kiss you in four places
As I go runnin' down your street ...

six whole months

Six months ago today, I got married, which makes this my half-year anniversary. I am not being mushy or anything, but you have to understand how dangerous the situation could have been, and how sane I have actually turned out to be. In the last six months I could have accidentally burnt down the house, drowned in the dishwasher, slipped in the bathroom, gassed or electrocuted myself, food-poisoned the Husband, or worse scared him away, starved, walked into a tram, frozen to death, suffered severe pani puri withdrawal, choked on bland firang food, acquired a new accent, punched someone in the face (knee more likely) for asking a stupid India question, collapsed under the pressure of being surrounded by skinny Eastern Europeans, collapsed under the pressure of Husband being surrounded by skinny Eastern Europeans. Instead I have survived it ALL, which can mean only one thing: I am really good at this marriage thing :D

OMG!!

omg omg omg!

Now, if only they can manage NOT to screw this up...

Bruised

She was walking around with a huge purple bruise around her eye, not the most convenient accessory to have. She tried to hide the ugliness behind dark glasses. But dark glasses at 8 in the evening just don’t work. She tried to mask it with makeup. But purple isn't a colour you can hide easily. She got sympathetic glances everywhere she went, the kind a sickly little dog gets, just before it dies. It was disgusting. They’d ask her how it happened, and she’d tell them. “Umm, it’s really embarrassing, I, um, kind of walked into a door.” They’d nod at her, like they knew all along and then they’d say, “You should report him to the police, men like that deserve to be in prison.” It had taken her a good week to realize, sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth.

Whoooohoooo!

Finally, something to cheer about!

Aai ga!!

More on the coach tamasha, looks like Sunny G has prevailed, and Whatmore will not be making as much money as he hoped. But here's the spanner in the works, we could have this guy for coach. Damn promising, this is turning out to be...

A good match

She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but maybe she wasn’t going to regret it. Her mum had called the previous day and it was the same story.

Beta, listen to me, there is this boy.
No Ma.
Just meet him once na.
No Ma.
Just once. That’s all.
…

And here she was. Shockingly this guy didn’t seem too bad. His was nice looking, well dressed and his hair wasn’t an amalgamation of goop.

It’s going to be just a coffee Ma, no dinner-vinner.
Arre, but it will look so bad.
Coffee Ma, nothing more.
Sometimes, I really don’t understand you, you no.

She had picked the café. A quiet little Italian place with a tiny faded bookstore next to it. She was addicted to both. Coffee and a book, a potent combination.

Really he wasn’t bad. When she mentioned she’d pay for herself, he didn’t gasp in horror or defend his masculinity. A first. He didn’t faint when she lit a cigarette, he didn’t even stare at her tattoo. She could already see her mother doing a little jig at home, lighting the diya, thanking the Gods for “settling ” her daughter.

Can we stop at the bookstore for a minute?
Uhh … sure.
I just need to pick a book.
Sure ... hey look at this, isn’t this a movie? Now they've made a book too? God, Hollywood!

She heard her mother’s heart break into a hundred little bits.
It was too good to be true anyway.

The right ingredients

She jumped off the bus at the main market. It was just nine in the morning, but the place was alive. Already there was a cluster of aimless men, sitting around gossiping. The radios were on and the voices were rising, some hawking some haggling.

First stop was Papa Pierre’s. Thankfully the grand old man wasn’t around, which meant no small talk, no chatter. She picked up her bottle of oil, some matches and a packet of cornflour, and quickly made her way out. She could already feel the touch of water and flour on her fingers and the patterns being formed.

The crowd on the street was growing, and she struggled to make her way to Big Rosa's. She loved this store. It was always so dark and cool. She enjoyed this break from the sun as she went about looking for the right incense sticks and candles (four of them, one for each corner), saving every bit of energy she had, to make it through the herb market.

The herb market was always hard, to rummage through heaps and heaps of herbs under the blinding sun was no mean task. But she could make no mistakes today. Carefully she picked her way through the heaps for the ones she needed, some rare, all strong.

It didn't take too long to get the wine and the chicken, and there she was done. She had spent more than half her month's salary today, but it would all be worth it. She thought of her chilled glass of wine as she ran her finger across the squawking animal’s tender throat. Very soon dear Richard was going to find out what happened when you cheated on a Haitian girl.