Dupi

Dupi is dying. The lion who lives inside my imagination can no longer jump through a ring of fire. He can’t tell any more stories. His body is burning in fever. He’s hardly breathing. There’s a strange silence in my head. His time is up and he knows it.

I don’t remember much about the day he was born, as we were born together, but I’ll never forget how playful he was when he was little. He was a delighted and curious cub in the wild. When he sat on the big rock near the waterfall, he looked so calm and powerful that I believed he could blow the sun out.

And then one sunny day, Dupi was trapped by hunters. He was too young and too little to scare them, and the hunters thought he was too cute to kill. They didn’t eat lions, anyway, and they couldn’t skin him—his hide wouldn’t be enough to even make a pair of gloves.

And so, they transported him to their town among the dead animals and tied Dupi up in the main square. Kids came to visit and play with him, but the hunters knew that this couldn’t continue for long—he wouldn’t be cute forever; he’d be a giant wild animal soon. And so, several weeks later, they gave him away to the biggest circus in town and received a dozen VIP tickets in return.

The once playful and proud lion was suddenly a prisoner inside a tiny cage inside a small tent at the back of the circus, close to the elephants. He was too young to understand how he’d ended up in a circus. From morning to night, he roared at anything and anyone that passed his cage. He’d throw himself at the bars and try to bite his way out.

No one interacted with him—they all knew he had to tame himself, as they had. In the circus, it wasn’t only the animals but also the clowns, acrobats, tamers, and strongmen who had to tame themselves. They had all once been wild and free. Some had come of their own will. Others had been trapped and sold. Regardless, none were free anymore.

It didn’t take long for Dupi to cease resisting. He stopped flinging himself at the bars (for he’d learned that if he did this, it would only hurt his body). He stopped throwing his food out of the cage (for he’d learned that if he did this, he wouldn’t receive another portion until the next day). He stopped wrestling with the old clown’s long sweeper (for he’d learned that if he did this, his cage wouldn’t be cleaned).

Dupi, like all the others in the circus, tamed himself.

The most respected man in the circus was the brave man. The brave man was physically strong, with buff arms and legs. When he walked, everyone would hear not his footsteps but the sound of his whip. Every animal, no matter how large or how small, no matter how happy or sad, would sit up and bow to him as he passed. The whole circus obeyed his orders. But even though every creature in the circus obeyed him, he had no friends except for the old clown.

After curfew, the old clown would go to the brave man’s tent and drink cheap Scotch with him. Only the old clown knew that the brave man’s eyes got wet with tears when he was drunk in his tent. Despite his intimidating appearance, the brave man had a soft heart and didn’t like to hurt anyone with his whip. Every night, after he was finished drinking, the brave man would laugh and wipe away his tears and lie on his tiny bed like a child. Then the old clown would turn off the lantern, cover him with a blanket, and leave.

The old clown was the oldest person in the circus. He always wore makeup, and he never took off his giant shoes, so he was always waddling. He never left the circus. No one came to visit him. And he never spoke to anyone, not even the brave man. But despite the fact that no one had heard his voice, everyone felt connected to him. The old clown knew everything about everyone. He could make them all laugh when they were sad. Though silent, he expressed joy.

Dupi saw two towns behind bars. And still he connected with no one but the old clown. By this time, Dupi had become a young adult. Having accepted his new life, he wanted to find purpose by being part of the circus. Knowing that the brave man was the only person who could teach him how to be part of the show, Dupi resolved to do his best to behave. So when the brave man opened his cage door for the first time, Dupi sat in the corner and bowed as all the other animals had. He was excited to see the brave man and wasn’t afraid of him or his whip. The brave man walked into his cage and hooked a short leash onto him. And in that moment, Dupi knew his life was about to change.

On the leash, he was finally getting out of the cage.

Every morning the brave man would lead Dupi to an empty tent on the short leash to train him. He started with easy commands: “walk,” “sit,” “jump.” Little by little, the commands became more complicated, but Dupi never complained because he was happy to be outside of his cage. Plus, he’d get a treat each time he obeyed his master.

Gradually, Dupi forgot about being wild and free in the jungle. He became comfortable with the tents, the other tamed animals, and, most importantly, the brave man. He learned new things every day, and the training got more and more difficult. He jumped onto a short step, then onto a higher one, then onto a chair, and finally onto a tall, tiny barstool. He obeyed his master no matter what. Failure never tired him. Every time he experienced success, the memory of his previous failure was wiped from his mind.

When he first made the jump from one tiny barstool to another one, he felt power and dignity deep inside. He would sit with his chest bared to the world, like a proud soldier expecting a medal from his major.

The circus had become home to Dupi. He waited excitedly for the brave man in the morning, and all day long, he’d practice his tricks, learn new ones, and receive treats from his master’s hand. This was his daily routine and he was happy about it. If the brave man would have allowed it, he would have practiced all day long with no rest. Joy rushed through him the first time several clowns, including the old clown, came to watch his practice in the main tent. And when he successfully jumped through the ring of fire and they cheered for him, Dupi felt the kind of ecstasy that only recognition can bring. The applause shifted something within him. After that day, a treat was no longer enough. After that day, he needed the crowd’s applause. He started walking differently. He was an important member of the circus, and he felt like it.

After the circus had stopped in two more towns, the brave man moved Dupi’s cage inside the main tent and set it in a corner close to the stage so he could watch the performance and get used to the crowd’s excitement. At first, Dupi was nervous. Being caged in the middle of hundreds of people was overwhelming. After each show, the brave man would bring children and their parents to visit Dupi, and they would feed him treats for small tricks. Show after show, Dupi grew more confident. And then one day, he was ready to perform. The brave man knew it.

“And now it’s time for . . . the king of the jungle!”

The audience cheered and clapped. As the orchestra played a march, six strongmen carried Dupi’s large gold cage onto the stage, under the beam of a bright spotlight. Then, with a flourish, the brave man removed the royal-blue velvet curtain covering the cage.

Dupi shook his mane and roared so ferociously that the tent went silent. Then the brave man leaned down and opened the cage door. Head held high like a king, Dupi emerged slowly, and the crowd “oohed” and “aahed” reverently.

After that first night, the circus became Dupi’s new jungle. The spotlight became the golden sun he used to know. People had heard about him before the circus even came to their town. Kids would run after his cage screaming his name as marching bands announced his arrival. When the circus left, Dupi’s pictures would remain in people’s albums.

Everybody knew Dupi as the king of the jungle, but no one knew his story.

Many years passed, and Dupi got old in his cage. Little by little, he lost his ability to jump through the ring of fire. The crowd laughed at him the first time he missed the ring and burned his mane. Over time, circus life weakened him. Dupi got sick. Now, his body is burning in fever.

He’s hardly breathing. He no longer goes on stage.

I am the only person who knows everything about Dupi. I remember how playful he was when he was free in the wild. I remember how shocked he was when those hunters trapped him. I know those hunters by heart. I also know everything about the circus. I know how weak the brave man is. I know how lost the old clown is.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I’m ending the show. The circus has had its day. I must let everyone go. It’s not too late. The wild lion inside me must return to the wild. The wild lion must not die.