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By:

Quaid Najmi

4 January 2025 at 3:26:24 pm

Thrills, roars and cheers under a giant marquee

Rambo Circus pitches a tent in MMR Mumbai : Mumbaikars are thronging to rediscover the joys of stunning, live entertainment as the familiar Rambo Circus has pitched a tent in Borivali West, before it shifts to Navi Mumbai from December 2.   This is billed as the first major full-scale season post-Covid-19 pandemic, which had led to a near washout of shows owing to social-distancing norms and public fears. The tent is now attracting a strong public response, said Rambo Circus Director and...

Thrills, roars and cheers under a giant marquee

Rambo Circus pitches a tent in MMR Mumbai : Mumbaikars are thronging to rediscover the joys of stunning, live entertainment as the familiar Rambo Circus has pitched a tent in Borivali West, before it shifts to Navi Mumbai from December 2.   This is billed as the first major full-scale season post-Covid-19 pandemic, which had led to a near washout of shows owing to social-distancing norms and public fears. The tent is now attracting a strong public response, said Rambo Circus Director and owner Sujit Dilip.   “We get good crowds on weekends and holidays, but weekdays are still a struggle. Our fixed expenses are around Rs. One Crore per month. Costs have gone up nearly ten times on all fronts in the last five years, and the 18% GST is killing. We manage around 1,500 shows annually, but barely break even, with wafer-thin margins,” said Dilip, 50.   The logistics alone are staggering. Rambo Circus travels across India with an 80-member troupe of acrobats, aerialists, sword balancers, jugglers, jokers, rigging crews, support staff, massive equipment, and a few mechanical animals.   “Many of my people have spent their entire lives under the tent. We live like a huge family. I try to support their children’s education, medical needs and help them build some financial stability. But without resources, it is becoming increasingly difficult,” said Dilip, his voice weary after decades of struggle for survival.   He reminisced of the golden era of Indian circus, around the second half of the last century, when there were many grand, full-scale circuses, but today barely half a dozen professional setups remain - Gemini, Golden, Ajanta, Asian, Great Bombay, and Rambo - along with a few smaller, local outfits.   “Unlike most countries where circuses come under the Cultural Ministry, India offers no institutional identity or support. I am invited as a jury member to several top annual international circus festivals. I feel sad as not a single Indian artist features on global stages. We just have no backing here,” Dilip told The Perfect Voice in a free-wheeling chat.   He said the decline accelerated after the ban on live animal performances nearly 20 years ago in India. In contrast, many foreign circuses still feature elephants, horses, bears, zebras, llamas, tigers, leopards, lions, and exotic birds - though most face heavy resistance from animal-rights groups.   “Moreover, ticket rates in India are among the lowest in the world, without tax concessions. In foreign circuses, even in smaller countries, tickets start at Rs 10,000 per head. We can’t dare match that…” he rued.   Yet, the thirst to lure audiences remains undiminished. Rambo Circus now leans on technology and innovation, featuring a mechanical elephant, a giraffe on stilts, stuffed zebras, deer, bears and horses, and has commissioned a Japanese company to design a robotic lion to perform tricks.   To make the shows more interactive, MoC – a tall senior joker – invites the young audience members into the ring to try small acts like skipping, jumping, or dancing with help from the midget clowns, and the kids’ shrieks of joy echo through the tent, as their parents furiously click videos and selfies.   Dilip recalled that during the pandemic lockdown, when survival seemed impossible, Rambo Circus pioneered online ticketed shows, selling nearly 50,000 virtual tickets - the highest among circuses worldwide at that time, and earned praise by international peers.   “We are swimming alone… For us, it’s not just entertainment. It is art, heritage, livelihood, identity, and passion - and we will fight for a dignified existence,” Dilip said quietly.   Rambo Circus’ emotional tug at PM’s heart Rambo Circus Director and owner Sujit Dilip appealed to Prime Minister Narendra Modi to help save this art form with a huge potential to generate jobs, discover talents, earn massive revenues and foreign exchange.   “We urge the PM and ICCR to give Indian circuses a formal status, affordable venues for our shows, extend bank loans, opportunities for skill-upgradation, foreign collaborations and inclusion under the Ministry of Corporate Affairs’ CSR list. Many corporates wish to help, but current rules prevent it,” Dilip told The Perfect Voice .   He recalled how, during Covid-19, Rambo Circus launched online shows and sold nearly 50,000 tickets, proving the potential of Indian circus talent and earning acclaim worldwide for his innovation. “Our dream is to make India’s circuses world-class, and we need government support to achieve this,” he said.   History of circuses – Roman Arenas to open maidans The name ‘circus’ had its origins in ancient Rome, where chariot races, gladiator clashes, displays/deadly fights between wild animals and condemned humans enraptured audiences in huge open arenas. Later, circuses began modestly in 1768 with horse tricks performed by Philip Astley, a London cavalryman. Then, came the modern version of live performances by horses/ponies in the US in 1793, and in the 1830s, wild animals were introduced.   Many Hollywood films featured circuses as the backdrop. The most memorable ones are: Charlie Chaplin’s “The Circus” (1928); Walt Disney’s “Dumbo’ (1941); Cecile B. DeMille’s 2 Oscar Award-winning “The Greatest Show on Earth” (1952); biopic on P.T. Barnum “The Greatest Showman” (2017), et al.   Bollywood’s own legendary ringside acts were in films like Raj Kapoor’s “Mera Naam Joker” (1970); “Chandralekha” (1948); “Appu Raja” (1989); “Circus Queen” (1959); “Shikari” (1991); “Dhoom 3” (2013); and the howlarious circus climax in Firoz A. Nadiadwala’s “Phir Hera Pheri” (2006), etc.

Why Eknath Shinde is forced to use Uddhav Thackeray’s lingo?

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Mumbai: Maharashtra Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde’s recent comments, acknowledging that Shiv Sena workers in Dharashiv have expressed feelings of "betrayal" by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) within the Mahayuti alliance, mark a pivotal and ironic inflection point in the state’s volatile politics. While Shinde was quick to categorize these sentiments as merely "local" and insisted that contesting independently does not make the allies "foes," the very language he used—the vocabulary of betrayal and discontent—echoes the exact rhetoric Uddhav Thackeray employed before he severed ties with the BJP in 2019.


The profound irony is inescapable. Shinde’s political identity and ascendancy to the Chief Minister’s chair were predicated entirely on his claim that Uddhav Thackeray had betrayed the legacy of Bal Thackeray and the natural Hindutva alliance with the BJP. Yet, two years into his tenure, Shinde finds himself reciting his rival’s script. This apparent contradiction is not a mistake; it is a calculated political move born of profound structural and grassroots compulsions that threaten the integrity of his own Shiv Sena faction.


Grassroots survival imperative


The most immediate compulsion for Shinde lies in the survival of his own organization at the grassroots level. When Shinde rebelled, he secured the legislative majority, but he did not automatically inherit the entire Shiv Sena structure or the unwavering loyalty of its local functionaries. These workers are the lifeblood of the party, responsible for mobilising votes and maintaining local dominance.


For these local workers, the transition from being the dominant regional power (under the undivided Sena) to a junior partner in the Mahayuti has often meant a palpable loss of power, influence, and access to resources. When the BJP fields its own candidate or prioritizes its local leaders over Shinde’s loyalists in areas like Dharashiv, the local Shiv Sena workers feel marginalized and "betrayed."


Shinde cannot afford to ignore these localized feelings. By publicly acknowledging the "betrayal" sentiment, he is utilizing a political safety valve. He is telling his disillusioned cadres: "I hear you. Your anger is valid." This validation is crucial to prevent these cadres from migrating back to the Shiv Sena (UBT) camp, which constantly frames Shinde’s entire faction as having sold out to the BJP. If Shinde were to blindly dismiss their grievances, he would risk accelerating the internal bleeding and delegitimizing the core rationale of his rebellion.


Asserting parity within alliance


The fundamental imbalance in the Mahayuti—where the BJP is the numerically and ideologically dominant partner—creates an existential threat for the smaller allies, including Shinde’s Shiv Sena and Ajit Pawar’s Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) faction.


Historically, the BJP has always employed a 'Big Brother' approach, seeking to expand its footprint at the expense of its regional partners. This was precisely the tension that drove Uddhav Thackeray away in 2019. Now, Shinde is facing the same structural pressure. Reports of internal friction—allegations of the BJP attempting to poach Shinde’s functionaries, delays in file clearances for Shiv Sena-held ministries by the Finance Department (Ajit Pawar’s portfolio), or Devendra Fadnavis subtly overshadowing Shinde—all point to a constant, underlying power struggle.


By channeling the "betrayal" lingo, Shinde is sending a clear, diplomatic warning to the central BJP leadership. He is communicating that his political position is not guaranteed by Delhi alone; it depends on the sustained morale and active participation of his Marathi-speaking, Hindutva-aligned base. This soft critique is a necessary negotiating tool to secure better seat distribution, more influential portfolios, and, critically, respect for the political space his faction occupies. He is effectively saying: "We broke away from Uddhav to save the alliance, but don't force us into the same corner he felt pushed into."


Irony of inevitable cycle


Perhaps the deepest compulsion is the unavoidable reality that the Shiv Sena, in any form, needs to maintain a distinct regional identity separate from the BJP’s monolithic national identity. Uddhav Thackeray’s 2019 betrayal narrative revolved around the BJP's national ambition clashing with the Sena's need to lead Maharashtra.


Shinde’s use of the same language, even if quickly qualified, suggests a recognition that the core issue—the BJP’s drive for absolute dominance—persists regardless of who leads the Shiv Sena. The need to carve out a distinct identity for his faction, based on local issues, Marathi pride, and the interests of the actual Shiv Sainik, means Shinde must occasionally stand apart from the BJP’s national agenda.


His statement that mere independent contesting doesn't make them foes is a complex political cipher - it justifies the internal dissent of his workers (by framing the BJP as a competitive force rather than an infallible patron) while simultaneously assuring Delhi that the government is stable.


In essence, Eknath Shinde is caught in a familiar Marathi political cycle. To survive the existential threat from his former party chief, Uddhav Thackeray, Shinde must protect his identity by asserting strength and independence. To assert this strength, he must occasionally use the only effective language regional parties have against a national behemoth: the language of threatened identity and betrayal. His words are less a declaration of war and more a necessary, calculated cry for equal respect within a highly asymmetrical marriage of convenience.

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