For decades, the rhythmic beat of the damru (hand drum) and the melodies of a flute were enough to draw crowds around traditional majmaa (street gathering) performers. Children watched in amazement, adults applauded sleight-of-hand tricks, and performers earned enough to support their families. Today, however, those crowds have largely disappeared, replaced by a surfeit of smartphone screens and online entertainment.
Among those witnessing the slow decline of this centuries-old tradition is snake charmer and street performer Asghar Ali, who says the growing use of the internet, repeated enforcement of Section 144 restricting public gatherings, and periodic government-imposed lockdowns have devastated the livelihood of traditional entertainers.
Centuries-Old Art Form Facing Extinction
Asghar belongs to a family that has performed madari or majmaa shows for generations. He recalled accompanying his elders as a child, learning the art simply by watching them entertain crowds in villages, bazaars and city streets. "This profession came to us from our forefathers," he said. "When we were children, we played the role of the jamura—the comic assistant in the show—and gradually learned the tricks from our elders."
He remembers a time when a performer needed little more than a drumbeat to gather dozens of spectators. "People would happily stop and watch our performances. They appreciated the entertainment and rewarded us generously. Things are completely different now," he said.
The Business Is Almost Finished
According to Asghar, modern technology has fundamentally changed public behaviour. "Today everyone has a mobile phone and internet access. People can watch unlimited entertainment online, so they no longer stop to watch street performances," he said. "The business is almost finished. People no longer gather to watch us. Everything they want to see is available on the internet."
His performances now consist of simple illusions, sleight-of-hand tricks and harmless demonstrations. One of his most popular acts is making one coin appear to become two. "There is no magic involved," he explained. "It is all hand skill and optical illusion." Another favourite trick involves placing sand into water and later taking it out completely dry. "People think it is magic, but the sand is coated with wax. That is the secret," he said with a smile.
Simple Tools, Fading Livelihood
His equipment remains remarkably simple—a damru, a flute, a harmless two-headed snake used to attract audiences, and a few small props collected over the years. Asghar said government restrictions have further reduced opportunities for performers. "Whenever the police arrive, they ask us to leave because Section 144 is in force. They tell us not to create gatherings. We are poor people and have no influence," he said.
He also believes repeated lockdowns imposed in recent years permanently altered public habits. "Businesses remained closed for long periods and people became accustomed to staying indoors and using the internet. Even after restrictions ended, the crowds never returned," he said.
A Cultural Tradition at Risk
Asghar Ali's story reflects a broader trend across Pakistan, where traditional street performers—snake charmers, jugglers, puppeteers, and magicians—are struggling to survive. With no formal support from the government or cultural institutions, many have abandoned their ancestral profession for menial labour. Asghar, however, continues to perform, hoping that a few spectators might still stop to watch.
