Yikes! I shut the bedroom door with a bang. I had effectively locked myself and my two year old daughter inside the guest bedroom. We were on the fourth floor of the apartment and the only way out was through the window which was unfortunately barred! Remember there were no cell phones those days. To access the phone for help I needed to go to the living room..... There were two beds in the room and my sewing machine. I knew it was a matter of minutes before the baby would be hungry and I didn’t even have a bar of chocolate with me. If I hollered for help no one would hear me, so I waited....
Both of us were terrified, I because I knew what was there and Chiqui because she didn’t know what was there! We could hear the pots and pans being thrown down and cupboards being opened and shut- I shuddered ... Chiqui was so terrified that she forgot to be hungry! After what seemed like eons (actually it was a mere ten minutes!) there was silence; I waited for another five looooong minutes before I cautiously opened the door and peered out – the cushions of the sofa were strewn all over the carpet and the balcony door was open. I carried Chiqui with me hoping to escape from the main door which was wide open too and tiptoed out, but the silence followed me.
I found the biscuit packet intact, gave it to the baby, put her in our bedroom (This had been untouched) and latched it. Brave me! Then I went creeping towards the kitchen- what a mess! I looked everywhere and realised that the miscreant had disappeared. Like shutting the stable doors after the horses had bolted, I swiftly rushed around and closed all the balcony doors and my main door too and released Chiqui from the bedroom!
The little devil had overturned the flour from its bin; scattered the sugar all over the floor; all the masala bottles had either been smashed or strewn all over! The kitchen floor was resplendent with all hues red, yellow, white, brown and what not! The fellow had opened the refrigerator and eaten all the eggs neatly but had spread the shells very aesthetically. I was in tears that day and my poor baby couldn’t understand what the problem was – for her it was a lovely mess!
My parents had told me that when I was few months old I had been put on the seat of the open jeep for a moment, outside a temple. I believe a monkey came from somewhere and was in the process of carrying me off when my father saw this and bribed the monkey to give me back in exchange of a few bananas (See my worth!).
Whenever I have gone to the zoos, temples or tourist spots they have troubled me. Either they run at me with teeth bared or they want whatever I am eating or they just give me funny looks! I remember one of them stole my bottle of Coke and drank it (I was very thirsty but too scared to do anything!)
I have numerous stories of the atrocities they have committed on me! But there have been exceptions....
In college I had a friend who had this habit of going to the Hanuman temple in Delhi every Tuesday and Saturday. She was in a different college; I was in the north campus and she was in the south campus, so we used to meet at this temple which was right in the center of Delhi, near Connaught Place. I followed her around mimicking whatever rituals she performed. Like all Hanuman temples this one was filled with monkeys. The strangest thing was they never troubled me, they did ignore me but they never came near me.
After this small dedication to the Monkey God for a period of five years my ape friends have left me alone. But a big “but” is whenever the God wants me to visit him, he send his missionaries to remind me that it’s high time I visit him again. I make it a point to do so. I visit him whenever I go to any temple. I even have a small idol of him at home. He is at peace and so am I!
By the way I love bananas!
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