Empty headed, tired and bored one evening, and wanted to see a different world to break the shackles of boredom. This desire drove me to drive down towards an old-fashioned and mediocre vicinity of the city where residents were enjoying Jashn-e-Baharan. It eventually led me to have a memorable encounter with khoo walas.
Let my memory be trusted for it. I had seen this khoo (well) about 17 years ago when I was a school-going chap. There was a Mela in a nearby environ of my house. At that time, it was something a little of what one fancies. Whenever and wherever Mela (fair) takes place, there are many entertainment means. People living in mediocre environs have definitely experienced it. It is usually assembled by circus, ferry’s wheel (thanks to my friend who told me English of aasmani panghoora), mobile zoo, ring gamble, mobile theatre, mini wonders (which are usually fake and designed to confirm the stupidity of people just for two Rupees ticket; not a bad deal at all) and well of death etc.
Among all of these things, maut da khoo (the Well of Death) is the most interesting thing to see. Not the motor bike stunts, but activities that take place before the show.
The Well of Death is a display of motorbike stunt blended with shabbily voluptuous eunuchs. It is a wooden structured object, shaped like a well in which a motor cyclist takes rounds of drive on wooden wall and this ride includes certain displays of skill. The bike rider will leave the handle of bike and wave his hands, and change of posture during ride is an added feature to this visually thrilling activity. You can drop currency notes as a sign of appreciation during the show. It is just an enthrallment for not more than five minutes followed by a round of applause by the crowd. Nevertheless, the real show begins half an hour before the bike rider enters into well.
Buy a ticket of five Rupees and you are entitled to enjoy the ‘heinous’ (for civilized beings) entertainment. Step up your way through to enter this superficially exciting world. Look down into the well; some eunuchs are there to give you a gaudy reception. This rejected class of human beings is of different type you may find one a freemartin and the other who got himself neutered to remain a desirable object for soulless males. They are wearing see through dresses and designs of necks are conformingly good enough to facilitate spectators’ vision to behold explicitly tempting cleavages. They are trained to expose them as and when need arises. They are fully equipped for this itsy-bitsy urge. If you like it, keep throwing notes after regular intervals as token of appreciation and you own the sight unless it is time to ride (the bike).
An old-fashioned loud speaker is adding value to auditory pleasure through the songs that require a crook state of mind to draw out exact meanings. In these songs, usually, a female singer cherishes the moments of joy in which the addressee protagonist has or could have done some particularly memorable acts to her. Dances of eunuchs on these songs allow viewers to imagine or fantasize all those thrill and skill seeking acts, which will remain under the umbrella of impossibility for the rest of life. Dancing beauties are specially trained – and of course experienced – to tease and tantalise the titillating patience of viewers.
Spectators have bizarre values of morality and aesthetic percepts towards these human beings. Their language is meaningfully obnoxious, smiles are carnally inviting, comments are bawdy, and abuses are usually hyphenated with incestuous phrases. Despite being at the receiving end of that verbal labour, these eunuchs are officially bound to remain calm and smiling since they know – without ever attending any business lecture – that customers are always right. Sight of eunuchs surprisingly makes people active, alert and efficient both mentally and physically. Crowd is least bothered about the motorbike stunt; they find it quite nonsense since they are enjoying something that is completely connected to all of their senses.
Some others will advise you not to get excited since it is a knack to extract money. Ignore all these things and enjoy the deceptive exposition of crude rounds and curves. Close your fists if you feel like opening wallet.
When show catches its peak, speakers suddenly stop producing melodious screams. Rhythmic wobbling of draped fleshes comes to a halt. Giggling sounds of crowd start turning into lamenting sighs and silence takes over the whole scene for a while followed by an announcement. “Show is about to begin, all “ladies” are requested to please come out”. Ladies leave the spot to enter into a tent beside well and bike rider comes in to perform the stunt. Majority of the crowd enjoys this part half-heartedly. Some of the eyes are still focused to tarpaulin tent where eunuchs are getting ready for next show. Few rounds of bike on wooden wall and the show is over.
People are stepping down after having experienced a hoaxing entertainment that catered to their purely animalistic needs. They are proud of what they have done - verbal and visual adultery. They do not know that they have brutally violated the norms of morality and ethical dignity attributing to the human beings. They have successfully added miseries to those who are destined to remain as a slur on earth’s face under the scorching sun. It was a Well of Death and performers are constrained to make a living out of this life that requires the death of their feeble ego and frail identity.
