I have always felt the circus is a sad place. But I have never been to one until now. Does that mean I have missed out on the nostalgia? Probably, yes.
Growing up, I never had the opportunity to visit the circus. My parents took me to the zoo, picnic spots and everywhere else that are winter staples for Bengalis, but the travelling spectacle. I was a curious kid, but I was also an introvert scared of being dragged by my family to a place crowded with people. And also, I never liked the idea of animals being used as spectacles.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t crave the nostalgia that everyone else associates the circus with. The place existed for me only as a distant idea and walking into the tent this time as an adult, I didn’t chase any memory or expectation. I was a part of the spectacle — albeit not the one from the ‘golden era’ — without anything to compare it to. And that made all the difference.
Ajanta Circus, the biggest travelling circus in eastern India, returned to Park Circus Maidan after 12 long years on its 50th anniversary. As someone who has only seen the name on banners behind buses, it felt exciting to step inside the circus.
As soon as I reached the maidan, my eyes caught a glimpse of the gigantic poster of a female acrobat performer showcased on the gate walls. I felt like I was entering a world of retro charm — a place that still yearns for the magic of the past.
Since I attended the 1pm show, I might have missed out on the lights inside the tent that would have instantly transported me to the days of the bygone era. With curious eyes, I looked around after taking a seat. I wanted to check whether any children had dropped the easy comfort of smartphones and visited the circus instead.
Interestingly, there were quite a few and I was surprised.
Although I had nothing to compare my experience with, I still had a common perception in my head. The glitz, the glam and the thrill. But I could not find them.
Instead, I was introduced to the kind of a circus that now thrives on death-defying acrobat acts, gymnasts from all over the world and fun stunt-and-dance rounds.
A thought hit me. These performers — laying out the dangerous aerial acrobatics or risky body-balancing acts — deserve to be on platforms like India’s Got Talent. As much as I believed that, I also felt their efforts in upholding the sanctity of the circus.
The performers lifted off the ground with a confidence that felt almost reckless. Watching the acts on television shows and witnessing the same right in front of your eyes is a completely different game.
Timing mattered here. Every second, every leap and grip, every landing. There were no edits, no retakes, and what made my heart sink was the absence of any safety net. The risk demanded to be felt. I could sense the collective inhales, gasps and applause from the audience. It felt necessary.
As time passed, I found myself smiling without meaning to. I flinched, leaned forward. At one point, I even transferred to two seats backwards because sitting right in the front made me panic. It’s strange how, even without the same old charm that everyone grew up with, the circus still manages to recreate the same atmosphere.
One aspect of the circus that I think has sustained despite the ban on animals is the whimsy of the clowns. Even old age and a dying culture couldn’t strip these ‘jokers’ of their absurd humour. It even regaled the Gen Alpha kids!
There were moments clearly designed for children. Apart from the exaggerated joker gestures, Ajanta Circus decided to introduce a brief act with performers dressed as animals to entertain the young audience. More than the adults, the laughter and excitement came from the children. Perhaps, small moments like these can keep the magic alive.
As it is with everything else, circuses are also keeping up with the times. At some point, I noticed the use of a trendy Instagram song for a couple of acts. You know, the ones we come across while doomscrolling? Was this an attempt to keep the young viewers glued to the stage instead of the screen? I wondered.
I don’t know if the circus will thrive in my generation or the ones to come. All I know is that for a few hours, I was lost in an era that I wish I had witnessed as a child. And that, I realised, is rarer than anything.
