KOCHI: No matter the number of cartoon posters lining a hospital’s paediatric ward, it remains very much an uninviting place, raddled with the air of sickness and agony. However, this was not the case at Amrita Hospital, Kochi, on the day of our visit.
Two clowns showed up unannounced. Dressed in colours that were a direct contrast to the dull, grey walls, the duo — Pina Blankevoort and Emma Milesi, who hails from France — put on a performance that was, in all frankness, alarming at first. And why wouldn’t it be? This was a hospital after all, where such overt expressions of joy are unwelcome.
This idea is precisely what the two women hoped to dispel. “In the beginning, people were quite surprised. It’s likely that they had only seen a clown in a circus. To be honest, their puzzling looks made me quite disconcerted. But I was warned about this. I knew our biggest hurdle in India would be to banish the stereotype of a clown,” Pina tells TNIE.
Indeed. More than the clown, it is the joker that’s predominant in the country. That word also has a negative connotation. To be the joker, in Indian parlance, means to be the ‘loser’. Usually, people pin this label on someone to stem them, stifle their joy.
Now, imagine the case when one willingly dons the role of this joker.
The scrutinising leer of the ‘Kerala society’ has the power to disarm even the most beaming smile, and, as expected, it now fell on the two foreign women, threatening to ‘disrobe’ them. What saved the show were giggles, emerging from all quarters of the ward. Giggles of children.
Despite what brought them to the hospital, children, now seen perked up on their respective hospital beds, inhaled the magic of these performances as much-needed oxygen. Their laughs also took a great deal of weight off their parents’ shoulders. Many tensed fists unclenched to pull out mobile phones to record their children joining the two French women in their performances.
“You put a drop of water on a flower and it blooms. Indians are like flowers. They can open up very quickly. You just have to form that heart-to-heart connection. What we offer is an oasis of joy. Even if only temporarily, a shade to rest your worries,” elaborates Pina, who’s been working as a professional clown in France for 32 years.
Pina’s first visit to India was when she fell ill. She was in search of a cure for Lyme disease when she stumbled upon the teachings of spiritual leader Amritanandamayi.
“I was so overwhelmed by Amma’s work. She is giving so much to the world. Seeing that, you find yourself wanting to do your bit for the world. I did. I wanted to introduce the hospital clown job here,” Pina says.
This was in 2016. Since then, for two months every year, Pina flies down to Kerala with professional clowns from France to perform in hospitals. This year, she has come with Emma and four others. “This year was different. We also did a workshop in Thrissur for young actors. Many have expressed interest in doing this job. It’s now a big project,” adds Pina.
For Emma, who has dabbled in music, theatre, and even a stint in the circus, being a hospital clown is serious work. Though relatively new to this field, her conviction that art can be as therapeutic as medicine drives her on.
Not all the performances go as planned. “There are some days when we face rejections. Understandably so. Those undergoing treatment and their families are under much stress. They are in pain. So, rejections are okay. You see, a clown is more than just an entertainer,” Emma tells TNIE.
Elaborating further, she adds, “We get this in France too. Sometimes, teenagers will feel that they are too old for these performances. They say No. But we take that No, we play around with it, and engage with them differently.”
There are also times when a No is indeed a No. “We respect that. When undergoing care, you can’t reject the treatment, you can’t reject the doctors or your parents, you can’t reject the situation. But you can reject the clown. And we can absorb the No. We know it’s nothing personal, it is only part of the job,” Emma says.
In pretending to fall at a child’s lightest touch and helping a teenager master the trick of the missing red ball and a plethora of similar acts, the two women are invariably giving the power back to the patient. “To be a clown is one of the most beautiful jobs out there,” Pina says.
Yes, but this clowning work also requires as much training as any other profession. “The avatar we have donned is of a drama clown and it comes from the theatre background. You need to know acting. Also, to be a clown is an act of being, not doing,” she adds.
In France, their performances are usually an amalgamation of music, magic, and a mayhem of fun. Sometimes, nurses too are given actor training to be able to take part in the performance. Though hospitals in Kerala have opened up to the idea of clowns, the activities are slightly muted here.
“I think it’s true for most beginnings. Do what’s possible at first and slowly build on that. But several factors work in our favour. Laughter is very innately human. Who does not want to laugh? You feel light when you laugh. Clowns enable this. We wake up the child in you,” says Emma.
And even if the system is not conducive yet, the two women have their own ways to muster the spirit to continue onwards. “We draw our energy from making one laugh. The light in their eyes is our lodestar. It guides us forward,” Pina says.
The two agree that there’s immense potential here for performances of clowns in hospital wards to become a regular fixture.
“If our workshop is any indicator, the actors are ready, the children and parents are interested. We just need to convince society that this is also a viable form of healing. There’s tonnes of research to underline this already,” Pina says.
“Laughter, as you know, is indeed the best medicine.”