As a ‘maut ka kuan‘ (well of death) pro, Rubel Sheikh, a native of Malda, West Bengal, has been flirting with danger for over a decade. Ironically, fame or money still hasn’t come his way even though the viral music video of Indian rapper Hanumankind aka Sooraj Cherukat has catapulted his sport from small-town melas to the global spotlight. “For Rs 18,000-20,000 a month, we endanger our lives daily for the entertainment of others.Those who shoot videos with our stunts go viral. Can we also make videos and increase our audience? But we don’t know how to edit,” rues Sheikh, the sole earning member in his family of five.
The 28-year old is a builder too, using nuts and bolts to join the wooden beams for the 22-ft-high arena. He then scales its near-vertical walls with Maruti 800 cars and old Yamaha and Pulsar bikes.
‘Well of Death’, known as ‘maut ka kuan’ in India, is a daring motorbike or car stunt performance that originated in early 20th-century American carnival sideshows. Riders defy gravity as they loop endlessly around a wooden cylinder, suspended by sheer centrifugal force. They pop in and out of cars to hold and release riders while still in motion, thrilling audiences watching from above.
The spectacle used to be a staple of circuses and melas in the pre-cable and internet era. Munira Abdul Sattar Madni, who began riding in 1971 when she was 7, was the first female rider to take on this death-defying act, inspired by her father who built these structures across the country.
Despite a glut of motorcycle influencers performing heart-stopping wheelies for an internet audience today, the ‘maut ka kuan’ performances still hang on, like its riders, in smaller towns and villages.
Accidents are common. In April, a stuntman and his female associate were injured after the car had a flat tyre midway. Last year, nearly nine people were injured after a bike stuntman lost control and rammed into the audience at a fair in West Bengal’s Asansol.
“Once you start your vehicle inside the well, there is only danger. But we can’t wear a helmet while doing these stunts. Riders have to look sideways and back to interact and collaborate. Someone or the other keeps breaking an arm or a leg. We give full hospital support to fix it,” says Sajan Seth, who started a small company of ‘maut of kuan’ performers after 15 years in the profession. He is now camped at a mela in Raiganj in the Uttar Dinajpur district of West Bengal and plans to entertain the 20-odd visitors with a Maruti 800 riding the well. Two other bikers will slip off the edge of their seats to add some more drama. “When we were new, we would get terrible vertigo. Now, we are used to it,” says Seth, who trained under an ‘ustad’ for a couple of years in Jammu & Kashmir.
Rising fuel costs and modest ticket prices mean the profit margin is slim. Old models of Maruti and Yamaha RX100 are stripped of silencers so that the roar heightens the thrill for audiences who often dangle currency notes from the edge of the well for riders to catch mid-stunt. “The high-pitched sound of the bikes prevents us from getting permission to perform in big cities. This is a major issue, restricting us to smaller towns and villages although we would like better opportunities,” says Anil Khan, 46, who has been a rider for 30 years now.
Several professional stunt artists in the film industry have tried the well of death, albeit with more protection and support. Saharanpur-based stunt double Javed Gauri, who enacted the ‘Maut Ka Kuan’ sequence for Salman Khan in the 2019 film ‘Bharat’, has the highest respect for practitioners of the sport. “It is the most dangerous of all the vehicular stunts I know. It has the maximum chance of death. And if even one biker falters, others invariably go down with him,” says Gauri, who says he has pulled off motordrome acts on a scooty in melas in Saharanpur. “I have also done it for college and corporate shows for brand promotions. I got my stunt double gig for ‘Race 3’ in Dubai after Salman bhai was impressed by my performance in ‘Bharat’,” says Gauri.
Sheikh, currently near India’s border with Bhutan where he will perform at an expo, is far from finding fame. When the show season passes, he returns to the village and tills the fields. Yet, the thrill of the well keeps calling him back. “It makes me happy to see the audience happy,” he says.
The 28-year old is a builder too, using nuts and bolts to join the wooden beams for the 22-ft-high arena. He then scales its near-vertical walls with Maruti 800 cars and old Yamaha and Pulsar bikes.
‘Well of Death’, known as ‘maut ka kuan’ in India, is a daring motorbike or car stunt performance that originated in early 20th-century American carnival sideshows. Riders defy gravity as they loop endlessly around a wooden cylinder, suspended by sheer centrifugal force. They pop in and out of cars to hold and release riders while still in motion, thrilling audiences watching from above.
The spectacle used to be a staple of circuses and melas in the pre-cable and internet era. Munira Abdul Sattar Madni, who began riding in 1971 when she was 7, was the first female rider to take on this death-defying act, inspired by her father who built these structures across the country.
Despite a glut of motorcycle influencers performing heart-stopping wheelies for an internet audience today, the ‘maut ka kuan’ performances still hang on, like its riders, in smaller towns and villages.
Accidents are common. In April, a stuntman and his female associate were injured after the car had a flat tyre midway. Last year, nearly nine people were injured after a bike stuntman lost control and rammed into the audience at a fair in West Bengal’s Asansol.
“Once you start your vehicle inside the well, there is only danger. But we can’t wear a helmet while doing these stunts. Riders have to look sideways and back to interact and collaborate. Someone or the other keeps breaking an arm or a leg. We give full hospital support to fix it,” says Sajan Seth, who started a small company of ‘maut of kuan’ performers after 15 years in the profession. He is now camped at a mela in Raiganj in the Uttar Dinajpur district of West Bengal and plans to entertain the 20-odd visitors with a Maruti 800 riding the well. Two other bikers will slip off the edge of their seats to add some more drama. “When we were new, we would get terrible vertigo. Now, we are used to it,” says Seth, who trained under an ‘ustad’ for a couple of years in Jammu & Kashmir.
Rising fuel costs and modest ticket prices mean the profit margin is slim. Old models of Maruti and Yamaha RX100 are stripped of silencers so that the roar heightens the thrill for audiences who often dangle currency notes from the edge of the well for riders to catch mid-stunt. “The high-pitched sound of the bikes prevents us from getting permission to perform in big cities. This is a major issue, restricting us to smaller towns and villages although we would like better opportunities,” says Anil Khan, 46, who has been a rider for 30 years now.
Several professional stunt artists in the film industry have tried the well of death, albeit with more protection and support. Saharanpur-based stunt double Javed Gauri, who enacted the ‘Maut Ka Kuan’ sequence for Salman Khan in the 2019 film ‘Bharat’, has the highest respect for practitioners of the sport. “It is the most dangerous of all the vehicular stunts I know. It has the maximum chance of death. And if even one biker falters, others invariably go down with him,” says Gauri, who says he has pulled off motordrome acts on a scooty in melas in Saharanpur. “I have also done it for college and corporate shows for brand promotions. I got my stunt double gig for ‘Race 3’ in Dubai after Salman bhai was impressed by my performance in ‘Bharat’,” says Gauri.
Sheikh, currently near India’s border with Bhutan where he will perform at an expo, is far from finding fame. When the show season passes, he returns to the village and tills the fields. Yet, the thrill of the well keeps calling him back. “It makes me happy to see the audience happy,” he says.