In 1977, an entire town was held to ransom by the Indian Rhesus Macaque or simply the Indian monkey because just nobody wanted to hurt them. It is alright to see a guy making a monkey do some tricks, firmly holding it on leash, but harming them was, and is, a strict no-no. It was Mahboobabad in Andhra Pradesh’s Warangal district. It had a population of 30,000 then. The streets lamps did not glow; they were played with by the simians and damaged; tiled roofs—almost all houses had them—were covered with brambles to keep the monkeys from breaking them; all windows were either shut or sported wire meshing.[caption id=“attachment_737347” align=“alignleft” width=“380”] Monkey trouble. AFP[/caption] The place was beside itself. The civic body sought out monkey-catchers. Only two responded, but put the town in a dilemma. One contractor offered to snare and take them away for unspecified manner of disposal. The other would only catch them and the town should find ways to dispose of them. The first cost twice as much as the second, both take-or-leave-it deals. Short of funds to pick any of the two, the town asked the district collector, an IAS official for help. Bureaucrats being what they are, an age-wise and sex-wise survey of the monkeys was sought before a call could be taken. Though troubled, the moneyed, influential, religious-minded locals blocked moves they thought would hurt the monkeys, associating the simians with Lord Hanuman. I do not know what has happened there in the past four decades
but today The Indian Express tells us that India has inked a deal with the California National Primate Research Centre for “mitigation of the monkey menace in northern India”. The menace is strong in “every state, but the situation is bad” in Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh as well as the North East. No need to guess why ideas and skills are now sought from overseas for a creature which scares and amuses all Indians but draw respect as well. Like the Mahboobabad traders, we are in a religious thrall of these nimble, mischievous creatures. My guess is, had it not been a nuisance also to “the seats of power in the (national) capital, North Block and South Block” the issue may have remained unattended. Use of langurs—different from the ordinary monkeys—which are long-tailed, have a chin-tuft and bushy eyebrows and also eat leaves, fruits, and seeds, to control them was given up for two reasons. One, it was ineffective, setting one tribe upon another; two, they are in the protected species list vide the Indian Wildlife Act, 1972. No point wasting a species to curb another. The problem seems to be that both the monkeys and the humans in India are profuse breeders. The monkeys may not know the implications of producing more of themselves. We humans do but don’t care and have waded into the domain of the monkey with disastrous results. Their return gift has been to encroach into our domain, and more importantly, play havoc with us. BS Bonal, member-secretary, Central Zoo Authority, which has worked out the tie-up with the US-based institution, who was quoted by the newspaper, sees the monkeys menace as “a behavioural problem” and the American centre as “quite well-equipped to address the problem”, having done so in other unnamed countries. We Indians, surely enough—and one did not need Bonal to say so—“are pinning our hopes” on them. Fact remains that monkeys are monkeys and where we have allowed them, they have caused havoc. Getting into dangerously bobbing ferry at the Gateway of India to reach Elephanta Caves is simpler than walking up to the sculpted caves for you encounter the simians without number. A stick in hand, a stern swing with it the moment you spy one helps ward them off. But one needs to be as nimble as them. They also swarm, as I recently saw, the final steep walk up the steps to the 108-foot tall Hanuman on the Jakhoo Hill of Shimla, which reputedly cost Rs 1.5 crore to erect, is also seen from The Mall and The Ridge, its location being the tallest peak in the former Raj’s summer capital. Though fortunately the steps are covered, the monkeys do sneak in and being caught with an energetic monkey in an enclosed space can give you a heart attack. They snatch, as they do on Elephanta, anything humans have: spectacles, mobiles, jewels, ladies’ handbags and what have you and just amble away before you know what hit you. They have no use for anything they snatch; they only chew on the mobile phones as if they are teethers we gave our babies. I suppose, watching us worship Lord Hanuman must be a boring pastime for them. Being on the same hill as not just the statue but also a Hanuman Temple, you are advised not to mess with them. But yes, you can hire a bamboo stick at Rs 5 per trip from the base, offered by enterprising guys soon as you step out of the car. Wave it, even intimidatingly; hit the ground when a monkey approaches; look around for they can sneak up from behind too. But try not to hit it. The visit, after all, is to the Hanuman Temple. Now, instead of hiring out sticks to areas endemic with the threatening monkeys across north India, we have now hired an American institution, hoping, of course, their, that is, the monkeys’ behaviour would be modified. Here is wishing they do and surely, such services would not be coming for peanuts. Dealing with monkeys is no monkey business.
The problem seems to be that both the monkeys and the humans in India are profuse breeders.
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Written by Mahesh Vijapurkar
Mahesh Vijapurkar likes to take a worm’s eye-view of issues – that is, from the common man’s perspective. He was a journalist with The Indian Express and then The Hindu and now potters around with human development and urban issues. see more


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