A dying art: The last of the riverboat circus

The crew of Laxman Das Circus once travelled from one place to another on their steel-bodied boats, carrying the magic of their craft wherever they went. Troupes lived aboard the boats, disembarking to perform at fairs or events across Barishal's many riverbank communities. After the show, they would pack up their props, hoist the gangway, and set off to the next destination.
But with shifting cultural trends, the circus lost its charm. Audiences dwindled, bookings became scarce, and income dried up. Paying the crew turned into an uphill battle, and one by one, they left for more secure livelihoods.
Today, 79-year-old Arun Das, custodian of this fading legacy, clings to what remains.
"I don't know anything else," says Arun, who has spent more than four decades living on the boat. "This boat holds my father's memory. I can't leave it."
Once filled with laughter, chatter, and the thud of acrobats practising flips, the boat is now eerily quiet. Arun keeps it afloat -- both literally and figuratively -- waiting for the rare call to perform. These days, gigs are few and far between, and performances are stripped down to their bare bones, with Arun often working solo or with just one or two crew members.
Inside the boat, traces of the past linger. Drums echo faintly in the compact space as Arun rehearses. Ladders and ropes dangle from the ceiling, gleaming steel rods and vintage circus props lean against walls, and the scent of old wood fills the air.
The Laxman Das Circus, formed in 1948, was once renowned for its daring acts -- from cutting iron rods with teeth to motorcycle stunts inside a steel sphere.

Arun remembers the golden years vividly. "People would cheer so loudly, you could feel it in your chest," he recalls with a wistful smile.
Now, the cheers have faded into memories.
But Arun remains anchored to his past, living on the hope that one day, the circus might hear its call again. Until then, he waits, preserving what he can of the Laxman Das Circus, as the boat rocks gently on the waters of the Arial Khan River.
A Storied Past
The circus's roots trace back to Laxman Das, who founded it after honing his skills under the tutelage of his relative, Sadhu Das, the owner of Dhaka's famed Lion Circus.
Initially named "The Royal Pakistan Circus," it quickly gained popularity, showcasing awe-inspiring acts such as bending iron rods with one's neck, weightlifting, and the spinning trident.
After the brutal killing of Laxman Das during the Liberation War, the circus was renamed "The Laxman Das Circus" to honour its founder.

Arun Das' journey with the circus began at an early age when he performed a motorcycle stunt in place of an absent performer. That singular moment would lead to a 65-year career performing the very act that once mesmerised him as a child.
At its peak, the circus would employ 70 to 80 performers, including artisans, technicians, and players. Their repertoire, which included rope games, cycling stunts, and dagger boards, was renowned for its diversity.
Among the troupe members was Runa Mondal, a rope artist who had once dazzled audiences with graceful acrobatics. He still returns occasionally to assist Arun.
"When the shows stopped, it felt like a part of me had been cut away," Runa shared.
"Without regular performances, we lose not just our craft, but a piece of who we are."
1971 and a Founder's Sacrifice
During the Liberation War of 1971, Laxman Das provided financial support to the freedom fighters, including a contribution of Tk 2,000 to Hemayet Uddin Ahmed, the chief of the Hemayet Bahini.
This marked Laxman Das as a target for the Pakistan Army and their collaborators.
In May 1971, tragedy struck. Laxman Das' family sought refuge in Kodaldhoa village, but the Pakistani military, aided by local collaborators, discovered their whereabouts.
Laxman Das and his wife, Lila Das, fled to a pond but were eventually caught. Laxman was shot through the throat, and Lila was bayoneted.
The family's elephant, Batasi, was also not spared.
Shot first in the leg and then the head, Batasi's agonised screams echoed for miles before she succumbed.
After the war, the circus found a way to rebuild.
The circus resumed its performances with support from freedom fighter Nizamuddin, who provided a relief tent.
A Struggle to Survive
Declining interest, bureaucratic hurdles, and financial woes have pushed the Laxman Das Circus to the brink. "The situation is not good. There are no fairs or festivals, and the administration does not grant us permission," Arun Das said.
Arun describes the administrations restrictions as an "undeclared ban on circus".
The circus has not performed regularly in years.
Last year, it held a 12-day stint in Kalapara, but since then, invitations have dried up.
"During performances, our expenses exceed 40,000 taka per day. But we did not earn much in return. Besides, without shows, it's impossible to even meet the boat's operational expenses," Arun said.
"To cut costs, most of the troupe members, who are from Rangpur and Dhaka, have been sent home."
Arun was even forced to place the circus's elephant, Madhubala, under the custody of a mahout.
Without government assistance, the legacy of Laxman Das Circus may soon fade into obscurity.
As Arun Das reflects on his life aboard the boat that doubles as his home and the circus's headquarters, he remains hopeful but pragmatic. "I hope I can stay like this as long as I have. I don't know what will happen next."
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