Pleasurably, conveniently
seated in
the ring-side seats
we went on watching
the circus awashed with
neon lights.
Sometimes holding
breath, feeling our heartbeats
getting louder and louder
on watching the artists
performing adventures,
and
sometimes watching
the antics of the clowns,
dressed-up for such roles
we sat pretty
laughing aloud
which reverberated
around.
Hours lapsed
without we getting
aware of
immersed in the
surreal world of
adventures and pranks
combined
we got up, started
leaving one by one.
The faces and
features of the artists
adventures as well as
clowns
etched on the walls
of my mind.
On the way home
recalled me a
film on circus artists
risking lives
full of tension, laughs
and tears.
Behind the scenes,
after the day’s performance
was over
visualised I
circumstances that
drove them to a circus tent
their humble backgrounds
days of hunger
with fire in their bellies
blood, sweat and tears
and the never to be
attained dreams
each one shared
visited once again
the inner recesses of
my heart.
On second thoughts
like great
film directors holding
mirrors
to the society around
them
creating celluloid poems
I too held a mirror
to my surroundings
picturising in my mind
a circus tent
of which I am a part
better a particle
and felt like,
our society as a whole
inhabited by circus
artists
including myself.
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