New SS: Cirque du Soleil CLOSED Indefinitely

The papers rustled in his hand from the gust of air that rushed in through the slamming door that refused to stay shut; the forces of nature lashing its viperous tongue as rain and wind struck hard and arresting the day all was to begin. "It's a sign...Its start of a new season" His sister Anjali had said with a smile so smooth that it was a disparity to the rude winds that had disturbed his morning plans to arrive at the theater early. He didn't believe in signs, unless they either showed up as tangible figures in his bank accounts or until it became of any value to his childlike sister or loving daadi. Though he was pragmatic by nature, his undertaking of the new acquisition had come from one such sign too; a spark of an idea that he couldn't entertain or ignore for all of those initial months since their trip to Canada.

For work, he traded with ideas and opportunities - a negotiator - bringing together people who wanted to break down an individual's empire. And at other times he brought one buyer to take over a crumbling riot of investors. He'd bought a few companies himself in a short span of eight years, cycling the companies under his umbrella by retaining and selling a few based on his intuition of market trends. Green bills multiplied exponentially under his vigilance and he'd single handedly earned enough glory to his name to be sought after by million dollar investors from overseas too.

Six months ago, during their family vacation - taken upon Anjali's insistence - in the snow kissed city of Ontario, they'd driven to their first Cirque du Soleil show. Unsuspectingly the show had struck him with awe and fascination for the performing arts along with a lightening stroke of an idea that he couldn't sit still until he set the wheels in motion for a new venture under similar themes.

The papers in his hand reminded him that he was the new ring master of 'The Traveling Artists and Co' - a small time performing arts company that circled the Indian metros with an audience in numbers that dwindled in significant proportions.

Ring Master, he thought. Beginning that day he was the new ring master for The Traveling Artists and Co; only he wanted them to dance to a different tune; a tune so grand and a performance so much larger than life that it was to evoke interests from high-rise investors who would pay no less than ten times of the millions he'd invested. However undeniably scarce, he was certain human talent always paid off in mountainous returns.

Though he had his eyes on the money, his daadi had seen it differently. "It's the palace entertainment in your blood that made you do it...You can't take the royalty out of us" she'd casually mentioned around the dinner table. He was indifferent when it came to that subject and he believed in manual labor; exhausting intellectual and physical labor that was mind numbing at times. And without a taste of other palettes of life, he worked assiduously, clutching onto the only sphere of reality he purposefully exposed himself to.

The sheets of rain that poured relentless already had him wet to the bone before he could run from the shelter of the car to the insides of the theater. Walking down the sloping ramp towards the front of the stage, he replayed the plans of the day in his mind. He was to meet the manager first and then review the acts of the performers he'd acquired with the company. He looked around the theater that was to serve as practice grounds for the finalized acts and took inventory of the items that needed amendments. The lightening was depressingly dim, he noticed and twisting his neck around, he counted the number of speakers installed along the walls. Since the actual show would be revealed elsewhere, he didn't care for anything other than stage and sound effects that would be needed to re-create a near similar enactment of the live show. He swiveled on his heels looking for the power board to switch on all the lights of the auditorium.

He was still a considerable distance away from the stage to observe anybody's presence there. Before the hall could come alive from a blanket of light to sweep across the seats, a spot light dropped into the center of the stage. A low unwinding drone of a motor took over the momentary silence that had arrived with the quieting of the storm outside.  He slowly felt a flow of awareness prickle his skin and his wary focus sharpened, lifting his eyes to the bare faux ceiling above the stage. The sight was that of a trapeze bar being lowered in a controlled pace, with a girl in a plain peach suit, seated careless on the rod, leaning on one end of the rope and her feet slightly bent towards the other. Her one arm lazily held the steel rope above her head and her long transparent dupatta billowed like milk ribbons in mid-air. The low hum came to a rest once she was inches away from the floor and she turned to face him, letting her feet fall to the ground. Nodding her head in agreement to something with a mischievous smile, she kicked off the floor and began swinging across the stage. As if that was the single exhilarating event that life had proffer, her face lit up with bouts of giggles that rippled the calm in the room, oddly unsettling him. His fingers over the handle of his briefcase tightened and he took another unconscious step closer. Although her face lay hidden in the bright glare of lights that poured over her, he caught onto her slender silhouette that was utterly dainty.

Like a burst of honey in the air, her voice echoed in the hall "Payal...lift me up", she yelled. There was no one on scene, but the trapeze rod gained height just as she'd asked, while she gathered her feet and held them pointy towards the ground. As if she was traversing hard ground, she slickly moved and in no time was standing on the rod, with a steadiness which he thought even a still object lacked. Moving to the center of the rod, she held both sides of the rope and looked down at nothing in particular with a bemused smile. There was something so spontaneous, so willing about it that it seemingly appeared the whole of her was blooming with that delicate smile, consuming him with a faint streak of jealousy that he couldn't understand. While she slowly drifted away like a feather that had ticked his senses, he uneasily wondered if he was imagining a soft, fragile glow filling the air around her.

He inched closer to the stage and the lights faintly marked him against the darkness and the surprise jerked her, disturbing her balance.

"Careful" His hand lifted up, as if she was within his arm's reach. She was in control within less than a second and responded back with a small smile of gratitude.

Her brows drew together confused, when his arms stayed up in the air, even after she'd stabilized and was being drawn farther from the ground. Something prompted to keep that smile of hers alive - as she remained puzzled at the sense of helplessness his expression conveyed - and she did just that.

Once she was safely back in the upper podium area, planks began closing down the square space through which she'd alighted minutes ago. As though it was the last seconds of a disappearing act, he held her gaze in absolute devotion while he let his hand fall to his side.

He heard a click just as the planks drew close and it reminded him queasily of trap doors that he'd been caught under many a time, during his visits to their country palace. If the familiar feeling of dread from awakening old memories wasn't enough, a voice in his head told him that the girl was going to be the end of Arnav Singh Raizada. It was hard then to describe, how he hated treacherous gut feelings he ran his empires with, particularly wishing he hadn't felt the last one.