Narrative Humour. Want to go one up on a monkey? Try this

“New appointment in Railway service: Langur seen working in a railway office” was the imaginatively titled article in a newspaper recently. You can read about it here.  Apparently (and I am copy pasting here), “a video of a langur ‘working’ inside a railway office is now going viral. The video shows a langur sitting on an office chair in front of a computer, flipping through the files and typing on the keyboard. It appears that the simian learned to mimic these actions by observing people. The langur appears unbothered by the people who are excitedly watching it.”

Episode 1. Sometime in 2004. Self, The Wife and our two kids decided to take a break at a forest lodge in South India. We had a wonderful time; it was peaceful, the air pollution free and the atmosphere calming. The nights were chilly and quiet, save for the chirping of cicadas. Overall, a perfect setting. But for the Rhesus Monkeys. There were far too many than what The Wife would have liked. Me and the kids were okay with them once we understood through experience (the great teacher) that no edibles should be visible in our hands. Because if visible, they would surround you and get closer and closer till you dropped the banana/peanuts/wafers or whatever.

On our second day there, we having had an enjoyable boat ride in a nearby lake, were chatting about this and that in our room when we sensed that someone was at the door. I opened door and in walked a bison sized monkey, who calmy and without so much as an apology, settled on the bed. If you think we were rattled, you would be abso-freaking-lutely right. But our rattling had just started; for this was followed by a troop of six more monkeys.  The Wife was into the bathroom with a kid in each arm in a second, like a particularly agile cheetah. I was made of sterner stuff though. I stood my ground and said “shoo.” Perhaps my “shoo” lacked conviction as even to me it sounded tentative and the seven monkeys understandably, took affront and bared their teeth in unison. The teeth I noticed were large and pointy. I joined The Wife and kids in the bathroom, like Phantom (who if you recall, moves faster than eye can see) a millisecond later. Score – Me zero. Monkeys one.

So, picture the scene – seven monkeys in the room examining the contents of our stuff and four heads of their more evolved cousins sticking out of the bathroom door, one over the other akin to that in a comedy show. Periodically, I would throw a ‘shoo’ at them from behind the safety of the sturdy bathroom door and periodically they would ignore me. Till one of the monkeys picked up our video camera and started fingering it. Now if there is one thing The Wife likes more than us ‘touring’, it was videos of us touring. So she screamed like one possessed (again from behind the door of course) and this time, unlike my ‘shooing’, the decibel level of the scream (must have been 210 at least) startled the monkeys. Through the agony of my perforated tympanic membrane, I perceived them scrambling out; almost comically falling over each other.

Episode 2, Scene 1. I was posted at Naval Headquarters at Delhi. Now the Rhesus monkeys of Delhi just like the Langur at Dholpur, had a strange fascination for government buildings. Most government buildings were infested (may not the right word, but appropriate) with them. Dealing with them was I noticed, a factor of confidence and an alpha male demeanour. Now no animal exhibits these two personality traits better than langurs. It was a common sight therefore, for a langur handler (most sought after, these handlers) to take a leisurely stroll along government campuses leading by a long rope, his langur. So stately was the langur and so alpha male his demeanour, that the very sight of said single langur was enough to send hundreds of Rhesus monkeys scurrying, and any campus would be monkey free in minutes.

Well I am sure you know that I am no langur. Hence while I had confidence and an alpha male demeanour in plenty, these qualities I noticed were transient and would quickly make themselves scarce when I needed them the most. One evening, a tired me, called it a day and opened my office door to go home. Scarcely had I taken a half step out of the door when I froze like a rabbit caught in headlights. The corridor had about 30 monkeys prancing about. The effect (or lack of it) of my “shoo” on monkeys still fresh in my mind, I quickly withdrew at the speed of a rabbit NOT caught in headlights, and settled back in my chair for a long wait. Score – Me zero. Monkeys, two. Reached home at 2300 hrs that day.

Episode 2 Scene 2. Still at Naval Headquarters, I reached the parking lot post work one evening to see some monkeys atop my car. Some playfully twisting the radio antenna into a zig zag shape, some hanging onto the right side view mirror, some playing with the left side one already on the ground. One had attached himself to the window beading and having ripped the front right one off, was in the process of addressing the back right one. Overall, my car seemed to look at me dolefully, as if with a black eye. Now this was a bit too much for me. Forgetting myself in my rage, I said “shoo”. The monkeys (as always in unison) glared at me, teeth bared and advanced a few steps towards me; menace writ large on their faces. This tempered my rage, to be quickly replaced with alarm. Prudence being the better part of valour, I withdrew, again at Phantom’s speed. Score – Me zero. Monkeys three.

This situation my gut told me, needed confidence and an alpha male demeanour. In other words, the situation needed, not me, but a real alpha male – a security guard. So I complained to one. Now monkeys I guess have an inherent understanding of who to mess with and who not to do so with. The security guard was a good 50 metres away from my car, but one hearty ‘hurrr’ from him and they all scampered away. I got into my battle-scarred car and drove away, shaken like James Bond’s martini. Stirred too.

Episode 3. This episode ladies and gentlemen is one where I emerge victorious. It shows my sagacity, quicksilver mind and cunning. A couple of months later we were again on holiday at a charming hill station called Chail, near Shimla. We happened to be enjoying a leisurely lunch at an excellent restaurant, when Déjà vu! I spied through the window, horror of horrors, some monkeys again attaching themselves to my, recently repaired at great cost, car radio antenna, side view mirrors, window beadings, etc. My brain reminded me that “shoo” is not my forte, nor is “hurrr”. It also reminded me, quite needlessly, that I am full of confidence and alpha male only at home. So I pulled out my car keys and pressed the alarm which goes beeeep, beeep, beeep. For some reason, this startled the monkeys no end and my beloved car was monkey free in a jiffy. Score – Me, one. Monkeys, three.

So ladies and gentlemen, remember, don’t try to be an alpha male, don’t shoo; just go beeep beeep beeep when you come across these infernal primates.