By Glen Fernandes
The other day I was watching a circus. The music was loud, the crowd was excited and then came the clowns—those funny, fearless performers who stole the spotlight. They ran in with colourful clothes, painted faces and wild tricks. One slipped on a banana peel, another got hit with a fake hammer and a third kept losing his hat to the wind. The audience roared with laughter and so did I. But later that night, a quiet thought came to my mind—aren’t we all clowns, in some way?
We are all part of this everyday circus. Most of the time, we take it for granted. We forget we’re acting. No, we don’t wear red noses or floppy shoes. But every day, we perform little acts—at work, home, online and even in front of ourselves. We laugh when we’re not okay. We nod when we disagree. We try to juggle everything—hopes, deadlines, expectations—while balancing on an emotional tightrope. We take relationships for granted, thinking our loved ones will always be there even if we don’t show up for them fully. We behave like clowns without even noticing.
At home too, we wear invisible clown costumes. Parents pretend to be calm when the pressure is high. Children play the fool to escape homework. One moment we’re loving, the next moment we’re exploding—and then smiling again as if nothing happened and call it a normal day. Even at work, the clown show continues. There’s always the one who agrees with the boss even before he finishes speaking. We wear formal clothes and polite masks, smile politely that’s what the script demands while inside we may be tired, bored or silently screaming for a break.
Social media is the modern stage. Here, we pose for perfect photos, use cheerful captions, and display edited slices of our lives. Behind the curtain, however, many carry stress, pain or loneliness. But the show must go on, right? Then there’s the great political circus. Leaders put on grand shows before elections—big words, big promises, and bigger dreams. But after the show, the magic disappears. They blame the past, forget the present and confuse the future. The crowd claps anyway, hoping that maybe next time, the script will change.
But despite all this, there’s hope. Because in every circus, there are a few good souls—silent stars who don’t perform for applause. They bring genuine joy not jokes. They help us pause and think. Their presence gives us peace of mind, not pressure. They make us laugh without mocking. Their honesty is refreshing in a world full of performances.
Life will always be a circus. There will be lights, noise, drama and surprises. But in the end, the choice is ours—whether we want to be a clown who hides behind laughter or one who heals through it. Because the world already has enough noisy performers. What it truly needs… is a kind-hearted clown.
