Preeti Mohan, 45, still smiles shyly when speaking about her wedding to B. Mohan, 27 years ago. There was no formal mandap or the pomp and show routine in most weddings. The young couple was surrounded by some family, lots of friends and animals. For, Mohan, a trapeze artiste from Kerala, and Preeti, who was born in a circus, decided to get married in the one place closest to their heart — beneath the Big Top of Empire Circus, in Ranaghat near Kolkata. They continue to perform (they are part of Jumbo Circus now) and say they can’t imagine any other life.
Sitting inside a cozy tent on the grounds of VOC Park Grounds, where the Jumbo Circus is now on, they speak about life as a couple, moving towns frequently, and the joy of performing together. Next to them sit ‘Italian sky rope’ couple Deepak, 26, and Lovely Jaiswal, 28.
They had a whirlwind romance in the circus and the shy boy from Patna and the quiet girl from Assam got married three years ago. Deepak says their wedding is a very ‘romanchak’ story, involving midnight train switches, and heavy-duty work convincing the family. They do some couple acts together, and their chemistry is there for the world to see.
Life in the circus can get lonely after a point, and that’s when you start craving a companion, says Deepak. “Now, I’m content. We go out, we have a life. There’s someone to share your tent with, someone to dream with you,” he says.
Zeiba Parveen, 39, has been living out of such a couple’s tent for 18 years now. A Christian from West Bengal, she married trapeze artist Shakeel Khan from Muzaffarnagar in Uttar Pradesh. “Our lives are no different from a regular couple. The only difference is that I am a homemaker inside the tent; once inside the ring, I work with the parrots, do my ground shows,” she says. In her heydays, she used to be a rider.
Another cross-country couple is Ambika, 32, and Ranjan Pagare, 36. She’s from Nepal, he’s from Maharashtra. They literally grew up in the circus; she joined at the age of eight, he at 11. They married 13 years ago.
The youngest couple in the circus are gymnast Kavita, 23, and office staff Lakshman, 26. The older couples are like their adoptive parents, helping them cope with their changed status, and teaching them how to create their own haven in the midst of the organised chaos of a circus.
They share stories of circus weddings — in a village near Surat and in Jhalawar in Rajasthan. “After the night show, we would have the wedding party. Khoob khaana, naachna… it is fun,” says Preeti.
Family tiesAs we speak, Kavita runs up to Preeti, and hugs her. Preeti is a mother figure for most, by her sheer dint of her age and experience. She’s there to guide them on family matters, and dealing with the empty nest syndrome.
Because, the one thing all of them miss is being with family and children. Preeti and Mohan’s children have settled down to regular jobs, Zeiba and Shakeel’s son studies in a boarding school in Kerala. Ambika and Rajnan’s kid stays back with Ranjan’s family in Maharashtra. None of them particularly likes what their parents do. “They are grown up; they know the risks involved; they just want their parents to be safe,” says Ranjan.
But, for the parents themselves, the circus is their lifeblood. “We will be misfits outside the ring. This is our identity. Without this, we are nothing,” says Zeiba
Which is why, she says, most circus artistes marry within the circus. “No one else will understand this passion, this paagalpan” she laughs.
In itself, the circus is what an ideal country should be like — people from all states and countries, of all ages and religions, happily coexist as one unit. They speak one common language — Hindi.
“That’s the circus spirit. Everyone is dependent on the other. While doing a trapeze act or any other act, you trust your partner or team mate with your life. That forges an unshakeable bond,” adds Zeiba.
That bond has thrived at a time when circuses are seeing dwindling audiences. The same practice goes in, the artistes spend the same time rehearsing whether they are playing for a full house or just five people. “It breaks our heart when we perform to empty chairs. Claps from the audience egg us on. Without that encouragement, we have to force ourselves to stay spirited and keep the show going,” says Preethi, whose father Bigenraj Panda started the Hercules Circus.
Almost all of them have invested in land in their home states. Will they settle down there? “Nahi. Woh kiraya pe dega,” laughs Lovely. “Till we can, till our body cooperates, the circus will be our home.”
