girls were eventually rescued and resettled in a hostel in their
native Nepal. But for Saraswoti, leaving meant losing contact
with her sons. Shital was reunited with her family, however
chose not to live with them. “I don’t feel right when I’m with
my parents,” she says. “I didn’t spend my childhood with them,
and I don’t know whose fault that is.”
That time in the resettlement hostel would prove highly fateful- and not just because it represented their first step towards
freedom. One day, some folks showed up to perform circus tricks
for the many victims of human trafficking stationed there. Shital
and Saraswoti, newly acquainted friends, decided to perform
their own tricks for the crowd, and found that, although circus
performance was inherently connected to a lifetime of trauma,
they remained immensely proud of their skills. More than that,
they enjoyed it. “We said, ‘We know how to do this, so why
don’t we start our own troupe?’” Saraswoti explains. From that
suggestion, the first-ever contemporary Nepalese circus was
born – and it was theirs.
These days, in collaboration with several other survivors of forced
circus slavery, Shital and Saraswoti run Circus Kathmandu from
a small building in Nepal’s capital. Their shows encompass
circus acts of a more traditional nature, along with a special
point of difference: mini plays, inspired by their experiences of
abuse. The dramas are intended to inform local audiences about
the dangers of human trafficking – a crucial lesson for kids who,
like Saraswoti, might easily be led into slavery with a basic offer
of food. There’s also a message about circus itself that they hope
to deliver: that it’s not necessarily a prison.
“Because of these Indian circuses, with the violence and the
rape, that’s what all people in Nepal think circus is,” Saraswoti
explains. “We want to educate people; build more community;
and encourage people to join us, because circus can be good for
you physically and mentally. It gives you meditation.” It’s also
enabled Saraswoti and Shital to see the world. Circus Kathmandu
has toured internationally (the girls are both chuffed to have a
bit of a handle on English as a result). They maintain a rigorous
local performance schedule, too, in line with their main goal:
enlightening folks about human trafficking. “We plan to do
18 locations in Nepal this year,” Shital says.Despite global success – and even starring in a feature-length
documentary about their journey, the majestic Even When I Fall- Circus Kathmandu’s headquarters remain inadequate. They’re
too small, for one thing. Then there’s the problematic landlord
who keeps jacking up their rent. The girls admire the facilities
of Women’s Circus, with their spacious rooms, lofty ceilings and
decent equipment. “We’d like to have a space like this so we
can hold more training workshops,” Saraswoti says. A new HQ
is the dream, and they’re collecting donations via their website,
circuskathmandu.com. That’s one way people in the First World
can make a difference to an otherwise overwhelming problem
with no immediate solution.
But what of the long-term emotional effects to girls like Shital
and Saraswoti? Fortunately, Saraswoti is now able to visit her
boys, and will regain custody in a few years’ time. That can’t make
coping with her painful memories any easier, though. “Whatever
happened in the past happened,” she says. “You can’t change it.”
Shital adopts a similarly resilient attitude: “I remember the past;
I have it in my mind. But I don’t want to show these things. It’s
life. Sometimes there’s happiness, sometimes there’s sadness.
But I feel strong.”Photo
Satya Films
real life