From performers' grand spectacles in the main ring to their quieter lives behind the scenes, circuses are perhaps among the most photographed spaces since the invention of art form. Indian circuses, too, have attracted a lot of attention from photographers. The respected American photojournalist Mary Ellen Mark, for instance, spent decades following circuses in India before publishing photos she took in 1989 and 1990 in a book.

Most recently, in December and January, Katha Collective, an Instagram account curated by photographer, Ritesh Uttamchandani, published a series of 15 photos of Indian circuses taken by Mumbai-based Pooja Jain, 28. In an ongoing project she started in October, Jain, an independent photographer, has been following three travelling circuses visiting Mumbai: Rambo, Amar and Champion.

Instead of taking photographs from an outsider’s point of view that could exoticise the performers, Jain decided to make portraits accompanied by captions in which they could tell their own stories.

"I have always been more curious about the lifestyles of the artistes than the circus itself," said Jain, who had to wait for a year before she got permission from the circuses to shoot their artistes. “But rather than showing them getting ready or performing, I thought portraits would work better so that they could tell their own stories.”


Agoston, 18, from Assam, performs with the Rambo circus. He is training as a clown but also performs the trapeze act, which he learnt at a circus in his hometown. "I left school after fifth grade, and I have no complaints at all. I love working with the circus."


Sangeeta, 20, from Imphal in Manipur, has trained to perform dangerous acts at the Champion circus. "My parents work at a brick factory in Manipur and my sister is a performer at Rambo circus. I haven’t seen the rest of my family for more than a year. But I hope to return to my hometown to celebrate Gang-Ngai, a festival of my tribe, the Kabui Nagas."

In October Jain began by spending time with the artistes and talking to them about their lives. Only once they were comfortable with her and gave her permission did she begin photographing them. Jain had to work to gain their trust. Photographers came and went, the artistes told her, and they never showed them the photos they published. "Photographers never really respected them," Jain said. "I had to take some prints of my first set of photographs to show them how I was going to do the story and only then did they let me in [to their lives]."


Biju Nair, 43, ran away from his hometown in Trivandrum, Kerala, at the age of 10 to join the Apollo Circus. It declined to take him in because he was too young and had no formal training but offered him work as a ticket-checker, which he accepted. He observed performers and learnt the art of clowning from established artistes. Now a principal clown at Rambo circus, Biju trains the few enthusiastic people who still want to make a living as clowns. "My daughter is not aware of my profession," he said. "I would never want her to know this fact because in our country no one respects a clown. When she reads and speaks English, tears roll down my face. My son is a graduate from a university in the US. He works as a priest in a church in Kerala. I am happy that my children are educated and have a better life than mine. However, I do enjoy my role as a clown. It gives me pleasure." He handed me a red nose with this message: Spread Laughter.

In some ways, a circus is a equal-opportunity employer, caring more about an applicant's talent than where he or she comes from. It attracts people not just from around the country but across the world who are in search of a place where they can express themselves. With the government banning the use of wild animals in circuses in 1998, performers have become more important.

"Circus owners are trying to recruit artistes from abroad because local acts are getting monotonous,” said Jain, who photographed several foreign artistes as well. “The owners still have hope [for the circus as entertainment]. For the artistes from abroad, this is an opportunity to showcase their work. Indian artists also learn from them."


Omarry Habdara, 20, from Tanzania, is a performer at Amar circus in Mumbai. "The India circus experience has been good but I wish it was more popular. I have adapted to many Indian things except the food. The unfamiliar spices are not good for the body and we practice daily, so the food has to be simple."


Victoria, 22, from Mauritius, came to India to learn feats from artistes at Rambo circus. "I have a flexible body and I have learnt gymnastics," she said. "I did a year-long certificate course at a circus school in China and then worked at a local circus there, where I happened to meet Rita and Renu from Rambo Circus. My father never wanted me to join the circus and my mother wanted me to become a chef. After several heated arguments I managed to convince my parents. I decided to come to India and undergo training. My father accompanied me and wasn’t happy after seeing the culture and the lifestyle at the circus. But I made a firm decision and stayed back. Life is different here but when I am performing I forget everything. I plan to go back to my hometown and start a training school because people in Mauritius enjoy the circus but can't learn because there are no training schools. Artistes in India are far more talented than those in other countries. An art like this needs dedication, effort and, above all, respect and acknowledgement."

The three circuses Jain photographed illustrate the precariousness of the business. The Rambo Circus is one of India’s largest circus employers, but the other two, Amar and Champion, are not doing very well.

Circus performers tend to be drifters. Indian artistes typically spend around a year in a given circus before moving on to another, whereas foreigners stay for about half that time before moving to other countries. But despite the rapid turnover of recruits in a circus, its members develop a strong familial bond when they are together.


Ruth, 22, from Nepal, has trained to do seven to eight circus acts at the Rambo Circus. "My experience at the circus has been very thrilling," she said. "Here, I met Ravi, who is also from my hometown. We share the same interests, culture and lifestyle. I got married seven months back in Sholapur, Maharashtra. Influenced by Western culture, the love marriage is gaining acceptance in Nepal, which was not the case earlier. My parents came from Nepal to attend my wedding. We performed traditional rituals and everybody here at the circus was part of my wedding. The owner took care of minute details and made the wedding happen the way it should. It took place in the circus ring. I couldn’t have asked for more. The Rambo Circus is like home, a family of different castes, religions, sects, and most importantly, love."



Usha, 24, from Hetauda in Nepal, works in the Rambo circus. She has trained to juggle cubes and shoot. “I am a farmer’s daughter," she said. "My father has a small farm, but he never wanted me to work in the fields because this work involves extreme exploitation. I joined Rambo circus when I was 13. It took me four years to learn the art of juggling. After all, skills like these have to be taught young. I married Ajay, who is also an artiste and a struggler at Rambo. My daughter is growing up too fast. I don’t see a future for her here. I plan to go back to Nepal and leave her with my parents so that she can go to school. But for me, circus is my life.”

Jain was primarily interested in what the younger generation of performers thought of the art form. Older performers were born in the circus, but many young ones come from underprivileged backgrounds, driven by the need to earn a livelihood and attracted by the hope of being appreciated. But many parents do not want to send their children to the circus because of the hazards and poor reputation associated with a vagrant life.

"What I found was common was not an interest in art, but the sense that they have to do this,” Jain said. “But there are also people who are also very passionate about the art and they did go to circus schools. They are worried about the future because they want to continue here.”

Many parents do not want to send their children to the circus because of the hazards and poor reputation associated with a vagrant life.

"Some of the artistes were former agricultural labourers, working with their parents in the fields," Jain said. “But they slowly worked their way up, first joining local circuses, perhaps as interns or ticket collectors, and then training as clowns and then taking up more difficult acts."

But the performers themselves do not see the circus as viable for their own children and want them to have more settled lives. So this could be the last generation of circus performers.


Sheikh Habib, 42, from Yavatmal in Maharashtra, performs at the Champion Circus. "I was born in a circus. My father was a ring master and trained animals. My mother was also a circus performer. She has been my greatest inspiration. I learned the skills of the flying trapeze from her. My daughter is pursuing an education in biology. I will soon leave my job because she does not want me to continue as a performer. Circus as a medium of entertainment has drastically changed over the years. I do not enjoy my work any more. But the best thing about it is that it has no religion."