Travel Diaries – The Great Bombay Circus

September 11, 2025

After exploring the main tourist attractions of East Fort, such as Chalai Bazaar, Gandhi Park, Sreepadmanabhaswamy temple, and Methan Mani, I was on my way to Thampanoor when I noticed that the Great Bombay Circus had set up its tents at the Putharikandam Maithanam. Ignoring the groans of my thin adult wallet, with childlike glee, I bought a 250-rupee ticket for the 1 PM show and secured a middle-row seat inside the circus tent.

From the announcements, I learned that the Great Bombay Circus first started in Sindh, in current-day Pakistan, back in the 1920s, 27 years before India gained its Independence and the India-Pakistan Partition. They were featured in popular Indian movies like Amitabh Bachchan’s 1971 Don, Hrithik-Priyanka starrer Krrish, and the Tamil flick  7 Aum Arivu, starring Surya. They generally ran four back-to-back shows in a day, each packed with around thirty-five short acts, including juggling, acrobatics, trapeze, trampoline, aerial dances, hula hoops, cycle tricks, sword-swallowing, and whatnot. 

When the MC announced that photography and videography weren’t allowed, I felt relieved that I hadn’t bought a more expensive ticket. I made a mental note to memorise as many acts and intricate details as possible. Soon, the lights came on, and carnival music played in the background. 

Flying Trapeze

In the middle of the main stage, I could see a safety net stretched and tied tight, and above it, suspended from the ropes, rope ladders, and a trapeze. Soon, five trapeze artists, four males and one female, and one man dressed in a clown’s clothes and makeup, entered the stage. 

All male trapeze artists were dressed in white bodysuits and blue knickers, except the gang leader, who wore red knickers. The female artist wore a white bodysuit and a pink leotard. They waved cheerfully, bowed before the audience, and started climbing the rope ladders. 

While the other artists waited at the take-off boards at the top, the gang leader climbed onto the trapeze at the centre and began swinging, upside down. His hands were stretched out, invitingly towards his team members, but his legs secured him to the trapeze. One by one, the other artists jumped onto the gang leader’s outstretched hands and started swinging with him.

In between, they increased the pace so much that as soon as an artist let go of the gang leader’s hands, he had to catch the next one. To pepper the act with humour, the Clown jumped to the gang leader’s hands, only to lose his pants, hat, and dignity, before falling to the safety net. 

Honestly, every time an artist leapt to the leader’s hands, or during that tiny fraction of time when the gang leader paused to take a breath before catching the next artist, my heart skipped a beat. My rational mind knew they were trained professionals with decades of experience. But as a lesser mortal who struggles with hard breaths while climbing stairs and thinks twice even before jumping puddles, I couldn’t help but worry about their lives. 

Joksters

I don’t like the word ‘clowns,’ maybe because it’s often used in a derogatory way. I prefer the more amiable ‘jokesters’ or ‘comic performers.’  But I love and respect ‘clowning,’ the art and the artist. 

A Malayalam movie named  Joker, which I watched as a teenager, left a lasting impression on me. This movie depicted the harsh realities of a circus company drowning in debt and the sacrifices and hardships the artists endured backstage. No matter what – financial struggles, illness, heartbreaks, deaths – the owner insisted that the show must go on. 

In one of the playback songs in the movie, the hero dressed up as a clown sings: 

“Kanneer mazhayathu njanoru chiriyude kuda choodi…”

(“In the rain of tears, I held up an umbrella of smiles.”)

My eyes were drawn to the stage as four comic performers, or clowns (for lack of a better word), dressed in funny-looking, multicoloured clothes, entered the limelight and waved at the audience. A few of them were dressed in the popular polkadots, and others in the newbie paint-splattered designs. Two of them were average-sized adults; the other two were people with dwarfism. All their faces were painted in white, and their lips red. Their entrance and mannerisms reminded me of Heath Ledger’s and Joaquin Phoenix’s stunning performances in Joker for a split second, their external experience, not the intensity or darkness. 

More Trapezists, Gymnasts, Jugglers… 

This was followed by a female trapeze artist, dressed in a pistachio-green dress, doing manoeuvres on a swing. She was replaced by a magician-juggler duo. While the magician, dressed in the trademark black pants, white shirt, black blazer and black hat, performed cool magical tricks, the other amped up the show with his immaculate juggling skills. 

This man was always juggling three things at a time: three plastic balls, three plates, three colourful rings; never once missing a beat. He also balanced a ball at the tip of a stick held with his mouth. But my favourite part was when he juggled three hats, skillfully wearing them on his head in between the juggles.

Clowns on Stilts 

Gymnast ladies in vibrant pink dresses with pistachio green streaks, accompanied by clowns, walked around the stage, holding flags. While the clowns waved to the audience, the kids in the stands got excited and waved back.

When more clowns walked in and danced, but this time on stilts, making them look like ten-foot-tall men, I could hear kids shouting “oohs” and “aahs” and “wows” around me. I bet their innocence, curiosity, and imagination painted the circus as a scene straight out of their fairytales. 

Sweet Sellers 

Talking of kids, some were trying to cash in on them too. In the middle of the acts, many sellers entered the arena with boxes of ice-creams, chocolates, popcorn packets, biscuits, cold drinks, and fried snacks, obviously luring the kids. When the parents shooed the sellers, it led to pretty dramatic shrieks and tearful protests from the kiddos.

Father-son Duo

Up next, two gymnasts, dressed in tight black-and-white polka-dot clothing, entered the stage. One of them was a middle-aged man, and the other a teenage boy. They seemed like a father-son duo. Their smiles were so warm and striking. 

Their main prop was a stool placed in the middle of the stage. The man lay on the stool, with outstretched hands, and the boy balanced on the man’s hands or legs. The boy was often thrown into the air, twirled mid-air, but he always landed back gracefully on the man’s arms.

The wide smiles on their faces, the glint of joy in their eyes every time the crowd cheered for them, but above all, the trust they had in each other was so endearing to watch. I realised it was no blind trust. It was the result of probably hundreds of hours they spent in each other’s company, practising these same acts, over and over again, until they perfected them. I couldn’t help but think about the numerous times they must’ve made a mistake  – missed a catch, fallen, and hurt themselves or laughed till their bellies hurt during the practice sessions. 

More Buffoonery 

A clown blowing a loud whistle broke my reverie. Mimicking the risky rope-walking on the streets, the clown started walking over a rope, trying his best not to trip, his face painted white, as scared as he had seen an apparition. But of course, the rope was just lying on the ground, so his antics and scared expressions raised bouts of laughter from the crowd. 

More clowns approached the audience and encouraged the kids in the arena to join them. Back on stage, the clowns demonstrated Double Dutch rope jumping to the kiddos, who picked them up so fast. The joy on their faces as they jumped over the ropes was so palpable, we knew they were forming a core childhood memory.

My Wonder Woman

The female artist in a green velvet dress who walked onto the stage with two big steel rings on both her hands arrested my attention. Just then, a clown threw a third, a fourth and a fifth ring to her arms. Not only did she catch it with such grace, but she also started balancing and spinning those rings around her waist, arms, and legs. Her bubbly nature and her charming smile, even as she upped the number of rings step-by-step from five all the way upto ten, was a sight to behold. 

Often, when we talk about women’s empowerment, it’s either the most accomplished women in STEM fields or the most popular celebrities from the movie, music, or sports world who get the limelight. But this artist, spinning those ten rings around her body with that ethereal smile, deserves to be celebrated as a beacon of womanhood, too. 

For me, her act challenged what I thought a female body was capable of doing. Of course, I never believed the misogynistic discourses about the limitations of a female body. But it is one thing to believe in the limitless capabilities of a female body theoretically, and a totally different, spellbinding, mind-boggling, soul-shaking experience to watch a majestic woman demonstrate her out-of-the-world capabilities on stage and charm an entire arena full of people. She was definitely a Wonder Woman to me. 

Who Let the Dogs Out

Up next, three men in black hoodies stood on a ring-like stage, performing gymnastic acts, balancing on extreme postures and formations. As soon as they dismantled their formations and left the stage, the song ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’ performed by the band Baha Men played from the speakers. 

Female artists in a shiny blue dress, accompanied by dogs, walked in with poise. The dog lover in me was smitten by the sights of trained dogs, labradors, golden retrievers, and many mixes in between, rolling drums, dancing to the rhythm of music, walking zig-zag around rows of sticks and jumping through loops and barricades. In short, I got to watch a little dog show during the circus. 

In the past, circuses in India used many trained wild animals such as lions, tigers, gorillas, chimpanzees, monkeys, giraffes, and even macaws in their acts. Thanks to the consistent protests of animal lovers and the stringent implementation of animal rights laws, wild animals are no longer used in circuses. I wondered how long until dogs, too, vanished from such performances. 

More Breathtaking Acts…

Two young women glided onto the stage. Their movements were so fluid and magnetic. The way they stretched into unbelievably difficult poses made me wonder if their bodies were made of rubber bands.

More breathtaking acts followed. To jot down a few: an artistic couple dance on roller blades, a female artist who walked upside down on rope hooks suspended mid-air – an act known as the Chinese Skywalk, the girl who hooped a ball on the basket of a giant tower using its spokes to direct the ball to the net, a man of short stature who stacked five chairs in a zig-zag fashion – balancing each chair on the hand rails of the other, a group of =young artists walking inside a big, rolling hamster wheel – a few even in pairs, more jugglers but this time changing positions and also mixing gymnastic acts in between, a dog picking the number shouted by the crowd, female artists juggling and hula hooping while standing atop a roller, two young women dressed in beautiful black tops and red skirts performing acrobatics and spinning colorful cloth wheels with both hands and feet, the crowd watching with bated breath as two male artists slided to both sides of an aerial swing and even balanced atop the swing on their head without holding onto the ropes…

An Aerial Dance

Later, a beautiful couple performed an aerial shawl dance to the soulful melodies of A. R. Rahman’s Roja, making me wonder if they were two birds in flight. They were so in sync, effortless, and mesmerising that they fooled me into thinking I could do it too. “So skilled that the act felt deceptively simple!” 

Technicians: The Backstage Magicians

That’s when I noticed six people struggling backstage, clutching the tail end of the rope holding the two dancers in the air. When we watch a movie or a circus show, we don’t worry about how much work is going on in the background. But I couldn’t help but notice the technicians who moved the heavy props in and out of the stage, managed the ropes and swings during the aerial acts, adjusted the lights, changed the songs, and even cheered on the artists when the crowd reaction was lukewarm. 

Knife-swallowing

The aerial dancers were replaced by four shirtless men, holding knives in their hands. I held my breath in disbelief as they balanced their bodies on the tip of the knives arranged on a board. One of the men touched and bowed to the knives before swallowing the blades of three knives together. I’ve seen videos of such knife-swallowing acts before, but seeing it live makes you question reality and also understand the level of risk some people take to earn a livelihood. 

Death Well 

Those who watched Hanumankind’s viral ‘Big Dawgs’ MV  might already be familiar with the perilous circus stunt named ‘Death Well’ or ‘Maranakinar.’ In this act, the stuntman drives a vehicle up a vertical column in circles. 

“A Death Well operates using high-speed circular motion to generate intense friction and centrifugal force, allowing vehicles to defy gravity on vertical walls.” 

I’ve always known that it was a risky act. But when the stage echoed with the vroom-vrooms of two bikers accelerating up the death well, I could feel the tension and excitement in my heart. These sounds intensified as the bikers moved from slow circles at the bottom of the well to the high-speed circles at the top of the well.

It took me a while to recover from the adrenaline rush of watching this stunt. I wondered how hard the hearts of those stuntmen were thumping. Were their bodies still shivering from excitement? Or have they already gotten used to these risky moments? I don’t think anyone can be chill about a ‘Death Well’ act, not even the stuntmen who have performed it a zillion times. If they’re chill about it, I’ll have to name them ‘chill monsters.’

Awara Hoon

Soon, colourfully-dressed clowns riding cycles, performing acrobatics and the people in gorilla costumes took centre stage. Kids stood on their heels to watch this act. I loved it when the Gorilla played on the swing and did a full 360-degree swing.

People dressed up as big red bunnies, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, and polar bears also danced onto the stage, winning the cheers and joyful shrieks of children. I wished I were a kid watching the circus for the first time with her parents, too, not an adult in her thirties just crossing off these moments from a to-do list, all alone.

I got nostalgic when the song, Awara Hoon (meaning I’m a Vagabond), from Raj Kapoor’s movie ‘Awaraa’ played in the background for this act. I haven’t even seen the movie or memorised the lyrics, but I always think about Raj Kapoor as a creative, free spirit in my mind and hence feel nostalgic about this song. For some strange reason, I even feel we could have been friends, had we met in normal circumstances. 

The Last Act

When the MC announced the last act, four female artists on a trapezium, ending this grand show by 3:22 pm, my mind filled up with a lot of thoughts. 

I had a fairly good time at the show, even though I was acutely aware of its limitations – the shortage of funds was evident in the state of the props. The Hindi jokes by clowns were not landing, as the audience was not fluent in the language. I felt the self-deprecating, physical shaming, and physical bullying jokes amongst the clowns also don’t have an audience now. But overall, circus shows do have an audience among the kids, and also among adults who still listen to their inner child.

One of the most endearing sights during the show was how fiercely the artists, especially the clowns, supported other team members. Not just during the act as co-artists, but also from the sidelines. They were always the first ones to cheer for their team members when the crowd was silent, and also the origin of the loudest claps.

I walked out of the show, thinking about the insane skills of these circus artists, especially that Wonder Woman who hula-hooped with ten rings. These circus artists made me realise the infinite potential of human bodies once we put them to proper training. They made me want to hit the gym and push my body beyond its current limits, too. 

At my last full-time job, I had to read and review a lot of fantasy novels where ‘progression’ or ‘levelling up’ was a common trope.  These artists, who were pulling four 2.5-hour shows a day with just an hour of rest in between, were definitely top-level performers who had already unlocked their master level physical skills. Their hard work, discipline, and camaraderie were a true inspiration. 

I just wish they made more money through this work. More people should show up, support them, and cheer for them. That sad, vacant look on their eyes when the jokes fall flat, or the arena is silent, prompting the team members to clap and cheer on each other, is something no artists want to experience. 

To be continued…

Author’s Notes

~ All content on this blog is the intellectual property of the author. © 2026 Lirio Marchito. All rights reserved.

~ This blog is part of a series exploring my travels through Trivandrum, the capital city of my home state, Kerala, in India. You can read more posts from this series here. Trivandrum | Kerala| India