I try to convince the bouncers that the friend is a part of the artist’s crew, but I’m rebuffed.

“He doesn’t have an ID,” they tell me. I recognise the play, often used by venues to arbitrarily refuse entry to clientele they don’t want.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything else,” I tell Naezy, defeated.

As I make my way in, a girl on the stairs looks at the boys and mutters to her friend, "Chhee, do they have to let these people inside?"

Later that evening, Divine takes centre-stage and performs his Nucleya-produced smash-hit “Jungle Raja”. 300 well-to-do hip-hop fans, including the girl from the stairs, shout the hook with him: Gully gang, bole toh, boys from the naka.

Meanwhile, 150-odd boys from the naka wait outside the doors, straining to catch a glimpse of their friend.