Fair in Kashipur: Memories and Change
Every
Navratras, between last week of March and initial weeks of April, Kashipur hosts
an annual fair by the name ‘Chaiti Mela’. The focus here is on two temples: one
belonging to Lord Shiva and the other, of Goddess Shakti. Aurangzeb apparently
repaired the Shakti temple and it does have a mosque like appearance from
outside. Recent attempts have tried to correct the same. According to the myth,
Bheema built the Shiva temple.
The
fair held a grand importance in my imagination when I was child. Kashipur was a
quaint sleepy town. The fair would fill it with a lot of buzz and
activity. Rides, magicians, toy-sellers, food stalls, ice-cream parlors, animal
markets and a big grand Circus. With the start of Navratri, the fair area would
bustle with activity. Neighborhood kids would make their first trips and come
back with hordes of shiny new plastic toys. This would fuel much jealousy
and hatred. We would start our dharnas and this would soon escalate into fast-until-mela-visit
threats. Parents would hold negotiations and end them with assurances that our
grievances will be timely addressed.
The
fair had large crowds, as people from distant parts of western UP descend upon
it. Two days are especially important: the seventh and the eighth day of
Navratri. Massive crowds would turn the fair grounds into a battlefield, as devotees
got impatient. Policemen would be stretched to their limits managing crowds and
the oily food (generally given to them for free). And this, specifically, was the
day; parents would take us there.
Jostling
for space with umpteen carts, cows, horses, holy men, donkeys, dogs, men,
monkeys, stalls and street performers, we would slowly head towards the temple.
The experience had been unintentionally designed to remind us about the
sufferings of life, the slow and painful journey towards ultimate liberation.
The ultimate darshan would last few fleeting seconds. Even these, were spent in
choicest of abuses to whoever was trying to push or cut you out of the line.
The goddess was generally happy to receive few words of prayer in between. The
priest had a SOP for each pilgrim, which lasted exact 25-30 seconds. I never
figured out or understood the mantra he uttered and always suspected that he
was just moving lips.
The post
darshan session was dedicated to exploring the fair area. Numerous shopkeepers
and artisans would put up their wares. Traditional clothes, dresses, musical
instruments, carpets, utensils, earthenware, agricultural tools along with
cheap electronics, toys and some once in a year purchase items. The fair would
generally see huge crowds from nearby villages and they were ready customers
for anything new, fancy and interesting.
Then
there were some key attractions. One was, what I would call, pseudo-wonder
center. This consisted of things like ‘shortest lady alive’, ‘tallest man
alive’, ‘baby with snake body’, ‘baby with three heads’, ‘snake with 5 heads’
etc. Most of them were tricks designed to fool people looking at them from a
good 15-20 feet. Then there was the ‘Well of Death’. A big cylindrical
structure inside which cars would speed up until they had enough centrifugal
force to climb the walls and defy gravity. People would stand on the edge of
the well. The driver, confident of the speed, would get up on his seat and then
put his body out of the window, sometimes touching the hands of the people
standing on the edge. This would draw awe from the crowd. Both of these were
pricey and we went there just once.
There
was an annual circus, with a 3-hr long performance with lions, tigers, camels,
elephants and bears doing different stunts. They would play cricket, football,
jump the rings, hold people’s head between their teeth, put garlands on random
people etc. The show would start with Bharat Mata riding an elephant.
Thereafter the trapeze artists would take over. They would leave people
astounded with their leaps and catches. There was also the usual fare of
jokers, magic tricks, blindfolded stunts, knife throwing, juggling, flame
throwing and contraptions like a flying motorcycle.
Right
next to circus was a temporary zoo. Sad and lone animals silently awaiting
their deaths, sitting in disgusting cages littered with food, feces, filth and
plastic wrappers thrown in by people. I suspected that some of them were
animals from the circus. I remember seeing wolf, lion, tiger, leopard, bear,
crocodile, zebra and foxes. The zoo was
a sad place. Right next to zoo was a temporary animal market. People would
exchange camels, horses and other domestic animals. Sometime, pigeons,
parakeets and doves were also sold in cages.
There
were rides (a swinging boat) and a giant Ferris wheel. It was large enough that
you could see for some distance around. Once we had done the entire
round, we headed back home. Ice creams and snacks were demanded and provided.
The beseeching for toys and plastic guns were not heeded. I once smuggled a plastic gun to school and hit the teacher in the eye
with its pellet. Plastic guns were a strict no-no after that. We did not have a camera those days and so no pictures
survive. But those were interesting days.
I
visited the fair again this year. As expected the time has taken its toll. The zoo was closed long back because of the
animal abuse. The circus had its main attractions (lions, bears etc.) taken
away by Maneka Gandhi. It only has a lone camel and a lone elephant now. It has lost its
artists and jugglers. In the age of mobile Internet people are no longer fooled
by multi-headed wonders (they know it is a trick and won’t pay a ticket). The
shops are no longer attractive as markets have reached people and removed the
need to shop annually. The artisans find it hard to compete with Chinese goods
and there are few takers for their low-quality hand made products. You can
clearly see who all have been left behind in these changing times.
I
asked some of them, selling tablas, carpets, worship-items and earthenware, how
do they manage to survive (since I could not see any customers at all). They
told me about how they travel to big weekly haats
and similar fairs all the year around. They move from one place to another in
search of markets. They set up a camp in one city and move to nearby places. On
Monday there would be a haat in Kelakhera, on Tuesday in Patti, on Wednesday in
Gularbhoj, on Thursday in Pirumdara and so on. Once they exhaust a particular
area, they move on. The family moves with the kids, who left school after Class
5, when they were old enough to move around with the family. It seemed like
this was the only way of life that was known to them, the only one from which
they knew how to earn sustenance. They cannot change it even if it under threat
since the only possible option is working as agricultural or migrant labor
(which might not pay much).
The
fair, long having lost the customers and now irrelevant as a market, looked
very ancient. The animal market was still abuzz. The circus workers lived in
squalid camps and their numbers and size significantly reduced. Urban
consumers, who have better options, hardly stop and shop. And the numbers of
villagers shopping will probably reduce too.
But
it would be far fetched to write an obituary to the fair. There will be people,
however low their numbers, who will come, shop and enjoy the fair. Even if they
are left behind, in reduced numbers and reduced incomes, they will still
survive with this way of life. Some of them will probably give-up and move on
(I did not ask anything about their future, only how did they do in past). But
others will continue to clutch on to this rapidly diminishing slice of life.
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