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'Clown', a word that had acquired the designation of job for some people, and
for the others, it has become an important instrument used for insulting their
enemies. In my case, it's the former.
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I am a clown, and am proud to call myself one. My mother used to say that it is
a great deed to diminish someone's sorrow and pain and gift him joy and
happiness (though she never suggested that I become a clown). It takes a lot of
hard work to transform someone's tears into smiles; I have to cry to make them
laugh, I have to fall from great heights to make them jump with joy. I can
proudly say that I do my job with utmost sincerity and devotion, because since
the time I've became a clown, I have been a centre of appreciation by my fellow
clowns, sponsors, parents, and of course, children. Some people even come to me
and say, 'You're so funny, I feel you are the
best Clown in the Town!'. It feels really heartwarming to see such
response.
Among the various get-ups of a clown, my favorite one is when I have to paint
black tears under my eyes and a red line arising from my from the tip of my
lips, stretching downwards, forming an inverted smile.
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I think it is the best to describe a clown's life; he cries,
and people laugh. That day, it was our Town's Grandeur Fair,
one of the merriest days of the year, and just like every year, it was
held at a place ten miles away from the city.
The place was quite aloof from rest of the
world, no one lived there, and it was surrounded by a forest from all sides. It
was our fair manager, Mr. Bostling who wanted a place that's big, yet cheap; and
this place dutifully obeyed all his conditions.
The fair was first held eleven years back, at the same place. Our former mayor,
Mr.Wesley, wished to start an annual event that would integrate people living in
all corners of the town. The idea of the fair was suggested by a very close
friend of his; and since then, it is held every year, at the same place. On the periphery of the fair, there were swings, slides, merry-go-rounds, sand
boxes and, of course, trains. Most of the children could be found loitering
around at this side of the fair. On the inner side, there were
game stalls, hotdog stands, burger stands and
also, barbers (God knows what are they doing in a fair!).
Children dragged their mothers and fathers to the games stand, and like a
professional hunter hunting out for rabbits, they aim at the empty coke cans
kept on the table in front and try to knock them down, but without much success.
If they win -which rarely happens-, they get a big fluffy white bear. At the
centre of the place is a big oval tent, decorated with the seven colors of
rainbow. It is my home, my temple, my workplace.
My performance was scheduled at 11o'clock that day, and it was to last for one
hours. I had spend a great deal of time planning out my time. I would begin with
a silent act, then I would move on to some juggling, then I would do some
cycling around the place, then fire playing and then ballooning, and In the
last, I would call my faithful companion, and my only friend in this whole
world, Tim. He is less like a monkey and more like a kind and faithful man.
I met him three years back, when I had gone to a pet shop near my house. I
desperately wanted a pet, but who knew I would even end up getting a friend at
the same time. He was only one day old when I saw him; he was kept in the
corner, caged. His skinny little hands hung from his body like weak worn out
branches of a tree, his feet were weak, he could barely stand upon them, his
small round moist eyes could have melted even the hardest of hearts. He stood
still and kept looking at me with his glittering eyes. I never came to know what
made his eyes moist, nor I would ever like to know. I was told that he was also
the cheapest pet in the shop. The owner of the shop told me that he had been
deserted by the others of his group. I took him into my arms and bought him
home. So, as you see, it has been three years since I have been living with him,
and he didn't ever try to even stir out of the house, I guess he is really happy
with me.
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My watch says it's 12:30. My performance was over, and everything had turned out
to be the way I had planned. All the children loved Tim, some even came to me
afterwards and shook hands with him. Some little girls came to meet him but were
scared, they hid behind their mothers and kept staring at him. Tim turned out to
be really good host, he shook hands with each child and even gave toffees to
some of them that I had kept in the brown pouch that hung around his waist. I
gifted him that brown pouch some months back, and since then, it is the dearest
thing for him. And if he ever woke up and didn't find it at it's proper place in
the morning, he would start shrieking at the top of his voice, and would jump
around the house looking for it.
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Sometimes, I would wake up before him and hide his pouch under my pillow. And
then, when he wakes up, he starts jumping around the house, looking for it.
After some time, he becomes tired and sits down on his little bed. Then, I would
place swiftly come in front of him, place the pouch on his bed and would laugh
out loud -this is how I tell him that it was prank-. He always understood that
it was a joke and never became angry at me.
One day, he woke up early in the morning and hid behind the cupboard. I searched
the whole house but couldn't find him. Finally, I sat down on the bed,
shattered, thinking that he had deserted me. Then he came out from behind the
cupboards and started jumping here and there, and showed his teeth -this is how
he express his laughter-. He played the same prank on me that I used to play on
him! That day I came to know, that he was the thing most dear to me in this
whole world.
This is how we drive away our loneliness, by playing pranks at each other. If I
ever have to select between the most faithful man on earth and Tim, I would go
ahead and select Tim, without a second thought. He finds a father in me, and I
find my whole world in him.
The time was 12:30. I didn't even get time to change my clothes, and was still
wearing my rainbow clown dress. I came out of the tent and sat down on the
wooden bench with my friend besides me. Though the show was good, but the day
had turned out to be a bad one. I was running short of money and wasn't able to
feed myself and Tim. Even in the faint light of the lamp, I could see sadness on
his face.
“Am I a bad friend, Tim?”, I said
He said something, something short. Maybe he
said yes, maybe no.
After some time he became uneasy and started
jumping around the bench. He sat on my lap and made funny noises. I got angry,
but as a friend, I could understand his anxiety. I was the world's most
incapable friend, I couldn't even feed my pal. “I' sorry, I've run out of money. You know my
condition, don't you? Mr.Bostling keeps on postponing my payment.”, I said,
feeling sorry for him.
I tried everything to stop him from jumping
around and making silly noises, but he wouldn't listen.
Then I did something I had never done before.
I shouted at him. He replied back with tears. That was the second time in my
life I had seen him crying, and probably the last.
Finally he climbed down from my lap and sat at some distance from me. For a long
time he kept on looking at the black sky above. I don't know whether he was
gazing at the sky, the stars, the moon, or the God, who was hiding in the
darkness, laughing at us.
We didn't say a word to each other for an hour, and his gaze towards the sky was
unaltered. He stood there like a devotee praying to God.
Finally, after a few minutes he slept. I
could see him shivering with cold. I took out my handkerchief and covered him
with it. Due to the busy schedule I forgot that I had bought two biscuits, one
for him and the other one for me. I placed one biscuit besides him, and with a
broken heart, tears trickling down my cheeks, I left for my home, leaving my
poor friend behind. I was getting really hard for me to feed him.
I hoped that he would find his way to one of the nearby forests and would live a
happy life there. Probably he would make friends with the other animals there.
He would be able to feed himself and wouldn't have to work with a clown for it.
That day I got the answer as to why my
parents had deserted me. I forgave them, and hoped that Tim also forgives me one
day.
Living the life of a clown is not an easy task. Behind his smiling face are
hidden thousands of tears. The world laughs at him and he cries in alone. Smile
for a person always comes with tears for the another. A clown can make anyone
happy, but not himself. He makes the world happy, but is himself bereft of it.
On my way home, I sat on a bench and wept.
The tears washed away the red paint on my face. Once again, I was left all alone
in this world. Then someone's weeping broke the silence around me. I stood up
and looked in all directions, but couldn't find anyone. There was a small cargo
truck parked in front of me.
Behind the truck, I saw a small boy weeping. His head was sunk in his chest, and
the only piece of cloth covering his lean body was a vest, which only hid his
nakedness and failed to prevent him from cold. His soft cry was the only sound
audible, which was flowing all over the place, searching for a listener to whom
it can tell it's sad tale. There was helplessness on his face. He wrapped his
hands tightly around his body, to escape the chilling cold. I don't know if it
was the hunger or cold that made him cry. The only thing I knew was, I had to do
something for him.
I took out some red balls from my pocket and started juggling them. At first he
didn't even notice that I was there. But later, he wiped off his tears and paid
attention to me. I knew what I had to do next. I took out a colourful
handkerchief from my pocket and placed it on my hand. He was astonished to see
the colour of my glove change. Then I took out a coin and flung it in the air.
It never came down. He took off his eyes from me, looked up and kept waiting for
the coin to come down. And when it didn't, he smiled, and even clapped.
Then, I took out the other biscuit and handed it over to him. At first he
hesitated, but then he ate it, giving me in lieu, a big and pleasant smile. Now,
there was just one last thing left to do, I took off my jacket and wrapped it
around his naked body. With this last act complete, I left the place, for I had
nothing else for him.
The poor little boy made me realize what I am. I am a clown; and a clown's job
is to make people happy, no matter how sad he is. The big smile on his face made
me believe that I am a good clown. I did my job, and earned his smile. A fire
cracker has to burn itself, before it can light the world. And a clown has to
shed tears, before he can make someone laugh.
I learned a lesson that day.
Happiness is never born, it is
always taken from someone. I went home from there, sad because
I was all alone, and happy because I gifted happiness to someone on the way.
Contributed By:
Nishant Agrawal
nishantagrawal2006@yahoo.com
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