For many tennis buffs, the International Premier Tennis League (IPTL) caravan that visited India was a real high point. The cup would have flowed over even without Federer and Djokovic; watching the elegant Rafter, the athletic Tonga, the irrepressible Molfins and Goran Ivanisevic, the graceful Ana Ivanovic and the unorthodox Fabrice Santoro – I could go on – was a treat in itself.
But to get to buy tickets for the event was not easy. First, they were priced exorbitantly with the cheapest being some ₹ 13 k (which was subsequently brought down to a sensible ₹ 3k). Second, BookMyShow, who was selling tickets, would announce that on-line ticket buying would open at a particular time and you had to be Quick Gun Murugan to actually make the ₹ 3 k ones. My brother-in-law, who is certainly at the Murugan level, tried twice and was only third-time lucky. I decided to not even try and settled for the 13 k!
Getting to a venue like this is not easy. You can be sure that public parking will be badly signposted and a mess (the reality matched the fears) and the only way you can drive yourself there is if you have that uniquely Delhi commodity – a VIP parking sticker! Ironically, the people who get this sticker don’t actually need it because they have official cars and drivers. But that is a different story.
Anyway, the day finally came and off we went the venue (hired a cab of course). Security was only mildly irritating but surprisingly well organised. We got into the stadium itself and brilliantly lit court, with some of the greats knocking balls around drew all our attention. The excitement was familiar – I remembered it from when I was a ten-year old, reaching Feroze Kotla grounds to watch India play a test match!
After settling into my seat (they were numbered – ₹ 13 k gets you something at least) I looked around to another familiar sight – save for the lower denominations, most seats were empty! So it surely looked like BookMyShow was onto the tricks of the free market – become a monopoly, create a shortage and the show is on! But the most galling was the seats around the court. These were the famous “reserved” ones – reserved not for those who were passionate for the game, reserved not for those who even played the game at some level, but for those who had influence.
This is the great Delhi invention – passes! Every event that happens in Delhi – sports, music performances, theatre (not the ordinary Shri Ram Centre types but the sophisticated supper theatre variety) – has reserved prime seats which are given out as passes. Top of this totem pole are the bureaucrats, with captains of industry a close second. And what is brilliant about this invention is that passes go to the whole family.
Over time, I have figured out what differentiates those who have passes from who have bought those really expensive tickets. First, pass holders typically don’t show up unless it is really, really important to be seen there. Why should they? They have more important things to do than watch some inconsequential stuff. In IPTL terms, that will mean when Federer is playing for example. Second, they have the ability to afford to buy tickets but feel that it is too undignified to do so. Since most Indians-who-matter have at most 2 degrees of separation from other Indian-who matter, the challenge is less on find who to speak to for the pass but more on who will do the speaking without any loss of face! So, their “offices” will start finding out who are the sponsors and then how to get an “in” into someone senior there and make the ask. Third, they have hoverers. These are official looking guys who have been tasked with ensuring that these privileged folks get their freebies – drinks, samosas, caps, autographs, selfies etc. These hoverers can be easily identified by the briskness of their walks (they are, after all, discharging hugely important tasks) and the depth of their bows to the pass-wallahs. Fourth, they come with kids who have no interest in the proceedings and so have to invent their own amusement, which inevitably consists of noisily running all round the place chasing each other, with the occasional drinks break (free of course) to recharge their batteries.
So, the next time there is something interesting happening in Delhi, if you are going to BookMyShow, I am afraid you haven’t arrived. If Pappu wants to pass, he has to get a pass!