Trove Of Tunes – The Guns N’ Roses Experience—One Year On

Slash, Axl, a long walk, and the strangers who got me through it.

It was May 17, 2025—Guns N’ Roses (GN’R) performed in Bombay (Mumbai) to a large, multi-generational crowd. Everyone had to work really hard to get to the concert arena. Yes, there was the forecast of rain, but the more reliable hazard was long stretches of uneven walking—unfamiliar to me as a first-time visitor. To the organizer’s credit, they had published the exact gate numbers and the entry points. But unfortunately, none of those numbers matched either Google Maps or the resident memory of an old-time Bombay cabbie.

Welcome To The Jungle

The band started bang on time—maybe it was 7:15 PM on the clock. I had just reached the venue—thanks to Google Maps and Uber. They weren’t wrong, but they were far from the entry point. GN’R got started with ‘Welcome To The Jungle’, and I could hear it from the street, at the point where I got off the cab.

There were tons of cops patrolling the area around the venue, but no one had any idea how far one had to walk to get to the nearest gate. The instructions were just ‘keep walking this way or that way’. I was walking down with my cane—partly on patchy sidewalks, and for the most part, by the corners of the main roads. Parts of it were scary, and parts of it were mindless bumping into parked cars at unauthorized spaces. I may have walked down about 2 km, when I heard a lady calling out to me to check if I needed help. She, along with the man accompanying her, was headed to the same concert, but had booked tickets to a different section.

The lady and the man (my new friends) downed a few drinks before the concert, hoping for the buzz to stay on till the end of the gig. But little did they know, there was a gig before the gig. We finally reached the gate where the organizers were ready to process our entry. My new friends had tickets to the general section, and for the first time, I’d booked a VIP entry pass. It was twice as much in price, and by the end of the night, twice as costly in stress terms. It was 8:15 PM on the clock—an hour of walking and figuring out the way to just get into the concert. It wasn’t the lines, it wasn’t the traffic, it was just the layout of the place without clear communication and transport instructions. My new friends asked me if I’d like to join them in the ‘general’ section, or if I’d like to go to the VIP section. I decided to go with them, and we marched on. Within 60 seconds of my decision, one of the organizers walked up to offer a shuttle cab to get to the arena—which was still about 500 to 800 meters away from where we were. We walked in just when the band started playing Paradise City, with the clock ticking over to 8:30—almost halfway through the concert.

The song still gets the crowd going. It was one of the first songs I’d ever heard live in a rock concert back in 2002 by a Bombay-based cover band. GN’R has songs mapped to different tempos, but the ones I generally rest my ears are on the mid-tempo compositions where Axl and Slash are able to stretch out at leisure.

All We Needed Was Just A Little Patience

The sound arrangement was choppy in parts. I’d give Axl Rose 10 out of 10 for the effort, and for sticking it out through an almost 3-hour set, but for his performance and vocals, I’d give him about a 3, with all favours called in. Slash was invincible, and as expected he had the crowd singing his guitar solos on ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine,’ taking it all in on ‘November Rain,’ doing as told on ‘Patience,’ and going wild on ‘Night Train’. ‘Civil War’ and ‘Don’t Cry’ are two of my favourite GN’R songs, and I only wished Axl had a little more in the tank to power through them that night. ‘Civil War’ gets me hooked all through—right from the initial monologue, to the verse, the flat-out chorus, and the rush towards the end.

Paying 2x the price for the ticket wasn’t my only first for that day. Yes, there was the venue too, but there was more. I had pre-paid for the food and beverages, but the bar was, expectedly, so crowded that no one could figure out how to get me a physical card to swipe. Eventually someone pointed us to another counter, which was crowded with disorderly lines. I decided to write the money off as a sunk investment, and made do with a glass of whisky thanks to my friends. I still owe them a drink.

The lady is a writer, and has authored a graphic biography of M.S. Subbulakshmi for Amar Chitra Katha. She kept telling me ‘you’re an inspiration’, and couldn’t come to terms with a blind person going to concerts all alone. We chatted a bit about some of the other jazz and blues concerts that happen every year, and she knew some of the organizers personally.

He was on the cusp of shifting careers. He was moving from being a chef to starting a corporate catering business of his own. His ancestors have been in Bombay since the early nineteenth century, and his immediate family runs a few philanthropic initiatives in the education space, including a couple of schools.

The concert got over at 10:00 PM, and it was time to commence a long march. We really thought it would be easier, but only to be fooled again.

The Return

We started walking and kept following the crowd. There were a lot of lights, but no exit in sight. My friends met a few more of their friends during the walk, and somehow we managed to make light of our aching legs. There were no cabs available once we got to the exit. The Uber network was clogged, and we just continued walking. The lady friend tried asking multiple cops to help get a ‘black-and-yellow’ cab, but the cops were only able to confirm the obvious—no empty cabs in sight for miles. We decided to figure out a way to get to the man’s house, which was about two to three km away, but we were still cab-deprived.

The lady had a few more friends who had travelled from Bangalore for the concert. She called them to check for their plans after the concert. They had booked a cab for the day, and they were driving down the same road that we were walking on. The three of us got in, and we headed to the friend’s house. One of the friends was the CFO of a renewable energy company. The other had a successful business of his own. They had landed in Bombay around 12:00 PM that afternoon, but forgot to carry their concert wristbands. They got to the venue early, but the organizers didn’t allow them to get in without the bands. They flew one of the office staff in from Bangalore with their bands. The person got the bands delivered at the venue with an hour to spare before kick-off.

After reaching that friend’s place, some of them got changed for an afterparty, and I booked a cab for myself to get back home. I’d paid for nostalgia and a vintage vibe that may not last for long. What I got instead were memories—shaped by alternate experiences and random encounters. ‘Never say never’, they always say. Never had I picked up tickets for a show 8 weeks in advance. Never had I made an expensive VIP punt for a better stage view. Never had I been so let down by a concert experience in my city. Guns N’ Roses, BookMyShow and Live Nation – thank you.

I told myself I’d think ten times before going for a concert at the Mahalaxmi Racecourse, but John Mayer came along to perform in February 2026, and thinking twice wasn’t an option.

Listen Up

The Garden from GN’R’s 1991 release, Use Your Illusion I. They didn’t perform this at the Bombay concert. It’s a highly underrated GN’R number, but packs in great musicianship all around.

You can check out my Trove Of Tunes—a curated Spotify playlist, here.

Cheers,

Shri