Broke but happy — How Ed Sheeran, Coldplay and Maroon 5 concerts emptied my wallet but filled my heart

"DECIDE NOW!" my friend shouted over the phone.
Albus Dumbledore once said, "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Well, my choices have made me a concertjeevi — someone who lives to attend

concerts

.
As a thirty-something who grew up listening to pop music, I spent the last two decades dreaming of attending a Beyoncé, Shakira, or Taylor Swift concert. But as maturity dawned, this Delhi girl (a poor journalist) realised that these dreams would likely remain just that—dreams—unless I won a lottery and flew to Wembley.
When I heard that Coldplay was coming to India, my concert experience had been limited to a poorly managed, near-stampede Diljit Dosanjh gig in Gurgaon and a show by DJ Snake—who, let's be honest, is probably more desi at heart than I am. I had high expectations for Justin Bieber’s performance at Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium, but he cancelled due to facial paralysis at the time.

So, when Coldplay announced their tour, I went all in. I listened to their songs on repeat for a month, took a holiday on the day ticket sales opened, kept friends and multiple laptops on standby—only to fail spectacularly at securing tickets. I repeated this process four times (for three shows in Mumbai and two in Ahmedabad). Failed. Despair followed.

Desperate for a real concert experience, I started discussing options with different friend groups—should we try for London, Dubai or Seoul? One glance at my bank balance made the decision for me: impossible.
By November, I had begrudgingly moved on, secretly hoping Coldplay would cancel their show so nobody would get to see them if I couldn’t. Then, a friend—equally devastated, if not more—called with news: Maroon 5 was coming to Mumbai.
Maroon 5! My ears perked up like a dog hearing the word treat.

I called my flatmate. That evening, we sat together, played every Maroon 5 song we could think of, and realised that we had actually listened to Adam Levine more than Chris Martin. There was no mad scramble for tickets, no chaos, no hype. It became our backup

concert

. Booked.
Two weeks later, another friend called: Ed Sheeran is coming home. And this time, he was performing in Gurgaon.
Teddy! One of my favorite gingers! His songs had been the soundtrack to my teenage years. Of course, we had to go. Booked.

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

I had only ever half-believed Paulo Coelho, but that changed when I got a call from a friend: she knew someone who had two spare tickets to Coldplay Mumbai.
There was a catch. The tickets were expensive, and I had mere seconds to decide before she passed them on to someone else.
Now, some context—I had already taken good seats (read: costly) for both Maroon 5 and Ed Sheeran to make up for missing Coldplay. I had also booked a flight to Mumbai in peak December for Maroon 5. And now, for Coldplay, the tickets alone were Rs 14,000, plus another flight!
But then they announced they were retiring this year.
"DECIDE NOW!" my friend shouted over the phone.
I panicked. A little voice in my head whispered, Just do it!
"Yes!" I blurted out.
My friend screamed. I screamed. It was more special than any proposal.

The joy lasted exactly two days.
My senior—also a Coldplay fan but significantly better paid—was presented with a similar opportunity to see them in Ahmedabad. She declined, saying the cost was too high. That sent me into a spiral. Had I made one of the worst financial decisions of my life? A miser like me, throwing all her savings away on concerts? What had I done?!
The anxiety trip intensified when I spoke to my boss about leave.
A little more context—a journalist’s life isn’t just poor financially, but also in terms of lifestyle. Since the concert was exactly a week after my birthday, I had to request back-to-back weekend offs.
"You can't make such impulsive decisions," my boss scolded.
But you know what they say—a series of bad decisions make for the best stories.
And oh, what a story it was!

Coldplay quenched my thirst for a real concert experience. From fireworks to LED wristbands, from moon-shaped glasses to kinetic energy floors, Chris Martin, Guy Berryman, Jonny Buckland, and Will Champion transformed DY Patil Stadium into a galaxy "full of stars."
I stood there, mesmerised. Overwhelmed. Enchanted.
Every moment was meticulously crafted. From heartfelt voice notes to engagement with fans, from synchronised twinkling lights to rhythms that matched the energy in the stadium—every detail was "magic."

Meanwhile, Maroon 5 and Ed Sheeran made my teenage self so happy that I woke up voiceless after both concerts.
A fully tattooed, shirtless Adam Levine had the crowd wrapped around his finger as we screamed "just like animals." Instead of "sugar," it was pure sweat glistening on him as he showed his "moves like Jagger," leaving us all craving "one more night" with him.

Ed Sheeran, on the other hand, had me fangirling so hard during "I See Fire" and "Lego House" that it sent literal "shivers" down my spine and left me "happier.""Thinking out loud", it was simply a "perfect""dive" into "The A Team."

The music unlocked so many memories… but I wish both concerts had been held in a stadium. Did they not get permission? Were they not considered as big as Coldplay?
Ground experiences, in my opinion, aren’t ideal. Sure, you're physically closer to your favorite artist, but are you, really? The closer you are to the stage, the more brutal the fight for space.
And if you’re tall, you do have an advantage—but you’re also met with threats and abuse from the tiny tots behind you.
Maroon 5 and Ed Sheeran’s concerts were similar in terms of setup, but Gurgaon’s venue had the edge—perhaps because of the more expensive tickets. Mumbai’s grounds had a massive, view-blocking structure smack in front of the stage, making life miserable for the less-privileged souls (GA category). Was it for filming? Lights? Who knows. But it wasn’t fair!
Would I do it all over again?
HELL YES!
Seeing an artist you love—the person whose music has been with you through your happiest and hardest days—is an experience that money can buy. Is it reckless spending? Maybe! I’m no financial adviser.
A conclusive rendition of my experience?

"Concerts? Yes, please. Won't you come and put it down on me? I'm right here, 'cause I need, a little Grammy-singing artist for me! Yeah, you show me good lovin’, make it alright, need a little sweetness in my life!"