It
has been roughly 25 years since I last went to the circus.
As
a child I remember visiting often, and loving every minute of it, until around
the time I was 13 or 14. That was when various kinds of activism eliminated all
animals from the circus, and – for kids like me – took all the fun out of it. Yes,
there are great circus shows worldwide without animal performers, but India of
the late 1980s was not the place to find any of them. So circus watching died a
natural death, and the heart pumping excitement of seeing the tents or a random
poster disappeared. Soon, the tents stopped appearing and the posters were no
longer put up. Nationwide, at least in the larger cities, circus troupes
quietly disappeared never to be heard from again for the next quarter of a century or so.
I
grew up, and the whole idea and excitement of the circus faded into the
background of more grown-up pastimes. Until very recently. In the last couple
of years, I have been seeing posters and billboards advertising the odd circus
troupe in some remote section of the city or another. Steadily toying with the
idea of going, especially now that monkey is old enough to enjoy it, I made up
my mind to take her to one, one of these days, before she became addicted to
technology to the exclusion of all else. And still, somehow or the other, we
never quite made it. Time was never right, distances were too long, traffic too
unbeatable, or the tents had packed up and left by the time I got around to it.
Something always got in the way. And then, two weeks ago, one pitched its tents
right here in my neighborhood!
Before
a single coherent thought could form, I found myself walking back to the car
clutching a handful of tickets! For the couple of weeks that it has been here,
monkey has passed the grounds everyday with a sigh. She was marveled over the
lights in the evening, and wondered about the big sleepy tents in the day. And every
day, every single day, she has asked her father, or me, “Can we go one day?” so
when I woke from my trance with enough tickets for a whole bunch of people, I knew
my little one would certainly be pleased. But what I was looking forward to,
more even than her excitement at knowing that we were going, was the wonder and
awe I was sure to see on her face during the show – the same wonder and awe I remember
feeling every time I was taken to see the circus – from as far back as roughly
nine years of age (about as old as my daughter is now).
We
didn’t tell her about the tickets. Being the weekend, I picked her up from her “dance”
class (which is essentially an excuse for a bunch of kids to behave like total
nutcases and go crazy with music) and told her we had to go somewhere. Now,
strangely, my little one doesn’t like surprises, and when told something like
that assumes that mommy is dragging her to some relative/friend’s home where
she may or may not find company (given that most people we know are either
childless or have much older kids), or to some boring grown up activity like
shopping. So when the car turned into the fairgrounds, it was quite amazing to
see her go from morose and protesting to lit up and bursting out of her skin in
a split second.
Walking
in, sitting down, I could see all the stars in her eyes that I had expected. She
saw the incredible trapeze artists flying overhead with so much awe. She loved
the little trained dogs, and birds (yes, SOME animals are back), she rolled
around in laughter when the clowns did their thing, and shrieked with joy when
the elephants worshipped an idol or played cricket. It was like being nine
again for me too. The sheer vicarious pleasure of seeing all this for the first
time through her eyes brought back all the memories of my own magical first
time at a circus. I could feel all the awe, the surreal feeling.
And
then, I looked around. I could see all the broken equipment, the dilapidated
chairs, the holes in the tent and in the mats, but most of all, I could see the
emptiness of the tent. For a weekend primetime show, the tent was terribly
empty. Hardly 40% of the seats were taken, and we were the only people in the
more pricey seats. Seemed strange at first, until I noticed the expressions on
the faces of the kids that were there. Most of them, as young as my own or much
older, looked bored, uninterested, and uninvolved. Many were fidgeting with
their “latest” phones and tabs, and seemed hardly to be paying any attention to
the action in the ring, except when they shot videos of it….presumably for
facebook.
I
wondered if it had always been this way and I had merely been too small or too
enraptured to notice, or if things had really gotten that bad. Speaking to my
father later cleared things up a lot. He was grown up and cynical enough even
when he took us to the circus as children, but he does not remember it being
quite so pathetic. Sure, circus has always been a little shabby around the
edges, in India at least, but the abysmal situation we found on this trip is
far, far worse than anything we could have even imagined. The entire enterprise
seemed to be hanging on by the barest of threads, in danger of having to give
up at any moment.
Somehow,
we have managed to get our children to lose that sense of wonder that I remember
so well. And more than that, we have managed to kill any desire to experiment,
try something new, or be interested in anything outside their own narrow
spheres. No wonder then that circus troupes all over the country are struggling
so badly. Even under the best of circumstances, with packed shows, they are difficult
and very expensive enterprises to run. All those people to feed and pay,
animals to buy, feed, and take care of, equipment to acquire and maintain, lights,
travel, setup, and on and on. Given that even a primetime weekend show has such
dismal occupancy, one can imagine what the “not so popular” shows must be like.
It is a miracle they are even making enough to continue to stay in the business
at all!
It
makes me sad though, the fact that my daughter, one of the few children I know
who would rather play outside or go to the circus than sit in her room with her
PS2, may not be able to enjoy this wonderful display of human skill for much
longer.
No comments:
Post a Comment