You might have seen this viral video of a busker playing the guitar while sitting in a corridor in Connaught Place, only to be accosted by a cop and asked to pack up. 

The video enraged everyone, and justifiably so. But my outrage at this incident was personal. 

I’ve seen my father, also a magician, get beat up by cops in CP, because he dared to perform in a public place.  

Today, as an Indian magician, I get more respect for my craft overseas, than in my own country. 

Abroad, I can accumulate small crowds at public squares in a moment, recount tales of my family’s tryst with magic over generations, and earn a living as a busker. 

In India, though, I’m seen as an encroacher of public places. When I try to perform at Connaught Place, the police don’t wait a moment before shooing me away. They say street performances could attract pick-pockets and pose a security risk. But isn’t that the police’s job? To let citizens, including buskers, earn their livelihood in a safe and secure environment. 

Public spaces such as CP have always been a hub for buskers, but after Indira Gandhi’s assassination, our authorities began to view street performances as security risks. The western suspicion of India’s indigenous people has permeated to our own administrators. They allow self-styled spiritual healers to open ashrams and host satsangs, but a magician with a trick or two, or a college student with a guitar, becomes a public nuisance! 

Today, the police use antiquated laws such as the colonial-era Dramatic Performances Act, 1876, and the 1959 Bombay (Prevention of Beggary) Act to illegalise busking or street performances.

My life is a living irony. In 1995, I became the first magician to successfully perform the Great Indian Rope Trick, which many experts had believed to be a myth and dismissed as hearsay from the time of British India. The trick involves getting a usual limp rope to turn stiff and levitate, followed by a child climbing it to the top. Overnight, I achieved international fame and have since been invited to perform across Britain, Europe and Japan. But at home, my reality is starkly different. 

When I read the news about India welcoming G20 member nations to New Delhi this year, I could recount having visited several of these countries’ national capitals to perform for their people. However, at home, street performers like me have been pushed to the periphery. 

There’s no place to learn magic in India. And it seems my craft will be buried with me.

If you’ve ever enjoyed the performances of buskers, sign my petition so that we can lend more vibrancy to our city’s dull and concrete streets. 

Many G20 member nations have laws that regulate busking and allow street artists to perform in designated public spaces. Should India, as the president of G20 this year, fall behind in letting artists earn their livelihood?

Sign my petition to ask the Delhi Police, the Delhi Government and the New Delhi Municipal Council to allow regulated busking in Connaught Place and other public spots. 

Image credits: NDTV