I’m at the Talakad temple, walking along devoutly with
my pink bag and red saree, when out of nowhere- shazam! Monkey attack. A big one, baring his teeth springs up
at about waist level, reaching for the handle of my bag. It’s one of those bags woven out of
recycled plastic, what all the folks use here for going to market and carrying
the lunch. It’s great for
spillage, keeps its shape so you can load in the tiffin containers of food, and
stands up nicely in the car, rickshaw, or dangles safely from the handlebars of
the motorbike.
Thing is: they always contain food, these
bags. And mine is bright pink and
yellow, Yellow, like bananas.
I don’t back down to monkeys. I’ve got experience with this sort of
thing. Mmm hmm. Try me, monkey face.
Generally I yell at it, berate it for its
thievery, because yes, monkeys are smart.
They know better than this.
But I was in a crowd, at the temple, and trying to be…ladylike. So I swung the bag to bash it in the
head. Except the monkey wouldn’t
release his hold. He is swinging; I am swinging, and nobody’s really
having any success.
The locals are yelling in Kannada, “Get a
stick! Find the stick!”
The monkey falls back, but now I’m pissed. I swing again, two-handed, yelling “hey
hey!” The monkey dodges, springs
again, and grabs the bag, taking me by surprise, hanging from the bag. I shake the bag. It lunges a third time, hissing, and I
realize it could go for my face, scratch my arms, or any other manner of
rabies-inducing action.
I decide I had better hit it, in the head,
really good. The wind up, the pink
bag cuts through the air, there is a sharp intake of breath from the general
public…
“Aaaack!!!” says Sanjay as he kicks sand into
the monkey’s face. Direct hit to
the eye! The monkey veers off to
the side, and into the bush. I am
panting.
“You keep the bag,” says a lady nearby, showing
me her market bag tucked under the armpit. I am embarrassed at flaunting my food bag in front of
monkeys. But he came out of
nowhere! Only monkey of the day.
The crowd moves on, chuckling. I am mad at monkeys for the rest of the
afternoon, white-knuckling my bag.
Thanks Sanjay.
Those monkeys are a nuisance in Mysore, reminds me of the morning a friend missed practice, when we asked her why, she replied that a monkey had stolen her drying mat off her Balcony!
ReplyDeleteWhat a story!
ReplyDeleteWow! This is hilarious and a little shocking, that was one determined monkey!
ReplyDeleteOh you had me in stitches!
ReplyDeletethose monkeys are too cheeky. and you're a brave yogi.
ReplyDelete