Circus Artistes Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

From the gallery benches sit you and view the scenes, panorama all around,
O you, have you felt anything of
The world they inhabit and live in,
Have you at least peeped into their lives,
How the lives of those artistes?

The circus artistes, the circus animals,
You try to give the least of your thoughts to them,
To those circus artistes,
To those circus animals,
To those circus people whom you know them not.

The lions in the cage
Or brought along
And the bars put around to display the shows
And the ring-masters busy with
With the belt into the hands
And the lions growling,
Darting, licking the moustache

And the girl, most probably the ring-master’s wife or daughter
In between the lions,
Doing her roles, feats of displays,
The tigers seated around
And she playing her part
With the circus animals, with the circus tigers.

The elephants black-black, big-big trumpeting and coming
And the mahout making them worship
Shiva and Ganesha,
Coming with the flower-basket,
Another with water in its trunk,
Another with the phallic and portable stone of Shiva to be placed over
And to ring bells just to say,
Om namah shivay.

But the animals animals, the beasts and brutes,
How to believe these,
Wild, bloody, brutal and bestial
As these can go berserk, on a rampage to find it all.