“Hey man, are you a monkey”, my friend shouted at me. “You almost ate my Luxor pen “. This was the situation 10 years ago. I no more chew pens now. I take more interest in sinking my teeth into something softer than a pen. The more bulky and round it is, the more pleasurable.
We are predecessors of monkeys, one of my zoology lecturers always used to say. So might be yours. We village people have a special relation with these words. We have got an age old relationship with these creatures who are supposed to be our forefathers. They have broken all records in my village starting from breaking Drumstick trees to biting their team rivals and also humans. I now feel proud enough to write a post on them after spending a considerable amount of time watching them jumping from trees to trees and eating body lices from their near and dear ones. Although I could possibly relate their jumping trait to some Bollywood actors(jumping jacks) of eighties when they seamlessly leaped from the bottom of a building to the terrace to beat up the bad guys. Have you ever tried ( leave the trying part, have you ever imagined how to do it?) this thing?
My patience came to an end when I helplessly saw a monkey eating a Doughnut from the half opened fridge in my house. I was about to hack the monkey with a saw when one of my elders prevented me.
I was told not to harm them but only to prevent them from entering house. After all they are children of the Monkey God. I don’t think Hanuman ever married.
Now these creatures silently tell me: “You mess with us and we will make your life hell”.
