Simian Semantics
It was a Sunday. I remember clearly because it had been dinned into my head by Lord and Master. Having been coerced by who else but yours truly to go for acupressure (which HAD to be attended every day), he had placed his mark of protest for this Sunday. This was quite an act of defiance, for the doctor in retrospect looked like the most malevolent version of Dafoe in Spiderman. And he never smiled. “Every morning on the dot” was his command. Having now said “I WILL not go” L and M slept blissfully, pillow over ear.
What was I doing? I had just stepped into the loo when my young maid pushed the door and came in. Quite taken aback at this sudden unusual intrusion on her part, I uttered ‘What on earth are you doing?” Now I must tell you something about Champa, our maid. She was in a perpetual state of terror. When I left her behind to look after my elderly mother while we went on a weekend trip, we came back to find every curtain pulled end to end, lending a feel of a dungeon in which my mother, who felt scared at everything, sat looking the epitome of fear. I drew the heavy curtains back and asked Champa what was wrong with her. “They can see inside”, she whispered theatrically. “Who?” I asked. “At night, when the lights are on, they can look inside and see us.” I didn’t go any further, smiled to myself at every person outside being a potential miscreant and let the room air itself out.
Coming to that Sunday, Champa put a finger on her lips and in that theatrical voice said “Monkeys.Hush”. “Where” I asked, ”on the balcony? “Everywhere,” she said, indicating 6 with her fingers.I sighed and worked out course of action. There was of course our dog, medium sized,and I wasn't yet aware between dogs and monkeys, who scared who. Dog was thankfully with Ma in her room. Ma of course was scared of monkeys as of tigers, mice....She looked at us sleepily, “what?” she said. The only answer to give was ‘Nothing”, which I did and Champa and I went out quietly through the bathroom to the other room which had a common door.
In that room lay L and M. For that moment he was inert mass. I opened the bedroom door slightly to look out at the living room. A huge monkey sat on the dining table, peeling a banana and feeding a little squirt of a monkey. Incidentally, I had the day earlier stocked up on bananas, guavas, and un- ripe tomatoes kept on the fridge to ripen. One sat on the fridge top, throwing tomatoes at will. One was, if I recall rightly, trying to bite into a guava. One of a pair of porcelain clay (China mati) birds I had once picked up at “Rather mela”, and a favourite of mine, lay on the wicker chair. One monkey, in its youth I think, had appointed itself guardian and kept a lookout, fixing its stare on us. The kitchen door, at the furthest end was open. A thought struck me.”Were you doing something in the kitchen” I turned to Champa.
‘The gas is on” came out in a whisper. “I was making tea.” Then bravely, “I’ll run across to the kitchen and shut the door”. After counting probably three she made a run for it and reached safely, now to look out through the netting which covered half the door. Guardian monkey, having made an attempt to chase her decided on unsuspecting prey. It turned around midway and made a huge leap towards me. Though taken by surprise, I realised I still sported monkey avoiding techniques with elan. “Why are you people making this awful racket?” L and M asked, irritation writ large on his face. “Monkeys have come in” I said. Like me, he said “balcony?” ” No, inside” I muttered, resigned to my fate. ‘For God’s sake, why did you let them in?” I had a vision of greeting each monkey at the door and inviting them in, shaking -paw after paw. “I might as well get up and go for acupressure: he accused. “How will you go?” I gave a logical reply. There are 6 of them. I peeped out to see the last and 7 the one rolling in. The balcony door was kept wide open in invitation anyway. “Ask someone to chase them away” he said.
I moved to the bedroom window to look up at the balcony diagonally across on upper floor. The lady was signalling wildly telling me about the monkeys.”Tell her to do something” was the immediate response.For men, everybody exists to serve a purpose. “Why should she?” I exclaimed. “Remember how hard we laughed when monkeys entered their house last week and we could catch glimpses of them running around.I had caught my sides and laughed. However, she turned out to be extremely helpful half hollering half pointing out their positions as if on a soccer field. She informed that two had come out, then another and another. Finally, the one which had ambled in last was almost out when I came out and banged the balcony door shut, probably getting a touch on its hindquarters. Today I wonder if they had used LIFO or FIFO. It was obviously LILO, for I had seen this ‘with my own eyes’ as they say.
I looked around at a scene of utter disarray. Now it was time to ask Champa for a detailed explanation. “How did they come in and why did you let them in? I asked her. This is the visual I got. She had just opened the balcony door and turned to do something. The smallest one came up behind her and started to hang from her dress, falling off and getting on, till its grip was watertight. She ran around the balcony but the young one held on tight. Finally, probably having reached the speed of a whirling dervish, by some centrifugal force she careened into the living room, monkey hanging on for dear life. The balcony door lay wide open. Was this some strategy? Like a small child enters through a gap and lets the real thieves in?
We took stock. I saw the fridge door wide open. A smashed egg lay on the floor. “You left the fridge door open, you were so scared? I asked. “No, no,” she protested. “The monkey opened it, peered in,took out one egg, sniffed it and smashed it to the floor.” I picked up my China mati bird and remarked that thankfully the monkey had kept it on the chair and not thrown it to the floor. “Aha” said Champa,”that’s because I told it to.”
Now Champa, in her normal voice was slightly nasal and if excited, ended her words on a high slightly shrill note which sounded like an irritable round of nagging.” Some instinct had made the monkey freeze in motion. Perhaps it had a bully nag in the family in its last birth.Very proudly Champa said she had asked monkey to desist from throwing it because it was of breakable material and would crack. Apparently, the monkey had held on to it for a while, with both of them looking each other in the eye, and slowly laid it down on the chair. I am not sure if Champa had praised it with a ‘good monkey.’
Mother and dog were let out of the room. Ma interjected with wide eyed ‘really?’ as each naughty act was described, dog I guess went sniffing around. Every sound thereafter elicited from my mother one word ‘monkeys’, even at the dead of night when they are meant to be sleeping. And in fact they did turn up in ones and twos for sometime afterwards, at different windows, particularly on Sundays. A big one came once in the half light of the evening and threw my single flowering rose among all the barren flowerpots, downstairs. “What a mean monkey,’ I said.The most demeaning thing was however,when my son, who was studying for some exam near the drawing room window replied..”Oh.I did hear some sound. Was that a monkey? I thought it was you pottering round among the plants in the semi dark.” And as for L and M that day, I think he went back to sleep. If any of you really want to know, you are welcome to come and ask him at your o w n peril. Till today, I don't keep my balcony door open on a Sunday morning, unguarded.