Joker
MA in convergent journalism AJK MCRC, Jamia Millia Islamia New Delhi Published (2014)
Anjana Premchand
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Sharbendu De under whose guidance this project was realized. I would like to thank the Director MCRC Nazish Hussaini, Course Co-ordinators Richa Pant and Zehara Kazmi and lab Co-ordinators Azam Usman and Javed Sultan of AJK Mass Communication Research Centre, Jamia Millia Islamia. I wish to thank Rajeev and his wife Lalitha for allowing me to tell their story Most importantly, i would like to thank my parents for their love and my friends for encouraging me every step of the way.
The story
This project began with the aim to visually document rare professions in Delhi. My mission took me to different parts of Delhi in search of the exceptional few who practice age old professions that are at the brink of extinction. The fact that I was trying to capture and pigeonhole those who are truly unique was the irony that escaped me. A lost narrative led me to look closer, inspect more carefully. One of the professions I documented particularly interested me. The Central Market in Lajpat Nagar is one of the busiest markets in Delhi; however, no matter how crowded the market is, you will always notice a clown. His bright yellow-pink-blue costume catches your eye and his antics hold your attention. I met Rajeev outside the shop called Style Girlz. After observing him for a while I realized that he was somewhat of a salesman in a clown’s outfit. Equipped with a permanent smile and a clown costume, his job is to get customers to walk into Style Girlz. Rajeev’s shift is a rigorous nine hours of standing and calling out to people who pass by the shop. He takes breaks in between—to smoke and to eat lunch. If he sits idle, he is sure to get an immediate rebuke from his employer, the manager of the shop. Rajeev stands next to the mannequin outside the shop; his job seems quite similar to that of the inanimate figures. He calls himself Rajeev Joker. The crowd can be cruel and demanding. Some smile and laugh as they walk by the joker and some stare with alarm or dislike. The thing that never changes is his response. He smiles, sings and gestures with his hands to the shop and he reminds me of a wind-up toy. The question that immediately arises is what happens after the pretense dissipates? There was no doubt that he would shed this identity with his costume. This switching between characters was intriguing. I photographed him while he worked and observed his habits. Rajeev and his cousin Vinod, who stands as Charlie Chaplin outside the neighboring shop, would seek empty spaces where they could smoke and eat. “It is easier” he tells me. Their moments of solitude are when I get to know them as individuals. Rajeev is married and lives with his parents, sisters and wife in the slum area near Rajouri Garden in west Delhi. He is from Rajasthan but has lived in Delhi since he can remember. Appearances seem to matter a lot to Rajeev. Even after changing into his own clothes, he would stand in front of the mirror combing his hair and checking his face. He keeps fluctuating between confidence and insecurity in his mannerisms and speech.
Once Rajeev opens up, he talks endlessly about God. He and his family converted to Christianity a year ago and they believe that Christ will redeem their souls and grant them their place in heaven. The next day he gifts me a translation of the bible in Hindi and asks me to contact his Guru, pastor Sachin. “Christ will end all your troubles” he tells me. He draws strength from God and the heaven waiting for him at the end of his trials on earth. I understand why it is so important to him. Rajeev is illiterate. “I was not interested back then” he says. He tells me with regret that he cannot even write “cow”. I note this without further deliberation. The immensity of this strikes me as I travel by metro the next day. Rajeev travels by metro as well and he manages without being able to read any of the signboards or names of the stations. Another thought that comes to my mind is, he cannot read the name of the shop he stands outside daily. I cannot grasp the idea of a World without words and it bothers me. I met Rajeev’s family to know more of his life outside Lajpat Nagar. He is a different person at home, more self-assured and at ease. His wife shows me into the small room they have rented. The walls are covered with posters of babies and photographs. A corner to the right is dedicated to a small shrine where they keep their bible. His wife, Lalitha, is learning to read and write and I see a spark in her eyes as she talks of it. They seem hopeful and I only get a distant sense of the distress they conceal. Identity is painfully carved through our habits, our clothes, the books and movies we appreciate and the numerous social networking platforms out there. It seems like everything we do has a layer of pretense sown into it—we appear so that people can see us. Putting together all these details and thoughts, I have tried to illuminate the contradictions that Rajeev has to live with on a daily basis. This book is not just about him switching between two personalities but more about the person he is when no one is watching. It is about many of us, who on a daily basis invent ourselves for others.
Rajeev calls himself a joker, a popular synonym for clown in India, The oxford definition of a clown is NOUN A comic entertainer, especially one in a circus, wearing a traditional costume and exaggerated make-up: a circus clown VERB Behave in a comical or playful way: Harvey clowned around pretending to be a dog