5 August 2019 OUTLOOK 57
and tend to neglect mental health. Medical
clowning fills this void. One of the most
celebrated clown doctors is Patch Adams,
whom Robin Williams immortalised in an
eponymous film. Adams pioneered the therapy
in the 1970s, but India is catching up with it
only now and it is not widespread still.
“Dr Laff-a-Lot is my clown name when I visit
hospitals and patients. Otherwise, I masquer-
ade as Happy the Clown,” says Tulpule, the
Mumbaikar spreading joy after voluntary
retirement from the Indian Navy. It’s just that
the sailor always wanted to be a clown. “Both
these characters are about 20 years old. My
stage name is my ice-breaker. It amuses people
and makes them curious about me.” Shak-
espeare had Falstaff, remember?
When he was considering forsaking his govern-
ment job, his family became apprehensive and
many called him an idiot. But an encounter with
a terminally ill child convinced Tulpule to pursue
his passion. “In 2000, I used to perform for kids
suffering from cancer,” he recalls. “A child who
was very attached to me passed away. I later
found out that the kid harboured a desire to
meet a clown and I had fulfilled that wish.”
Since then, he has been visiting hospitals,
old-age homes, orphanages, and shelters for
the HIV-affected and the destitute. “I try to
stay calm and talk to patients and their families.
I never discuss their ailments or the length
of their stay in the hospital. Instead, I involve
them with games,” says Tulpule. “Empathy and
sensitivity are paramount when one is dealing
with patients and their kin. I try to break the
stereotype that clowns poke fun at others.
On the contrary, I offer them a ready target
to laugh at.”
Medical clowns come from diverse back-
grounds. At the paediatric oncology ward in
Apollo Hospital, Delhi, you are likely to bump
into Sheetal Agarwal, 34. Dr Smile, as she isCLOWNING
GLORY
(left) Pravin
Tulpule of Mumbai;
(above) Rehana
Quazi and Sheetal
Agarwal at Nehru
Bal Chikitsalaya,
DelhiPhotograph: JITENDER GUPTA