Doing business with smart simians
ON a recent visit to Vrindavan, two observations were unmistakable. One involved the all-pervasive, sweet manner of salutation. Whomsoever we met greeted us with a chant of Radhey Radhey. From rickshaw-pullers to shopkeepers, from priests to beggars, everyone would say the same magical words with uncanny familiarity. Once, when I said ‘thank you’ to someone, I was immediately instructed to say Radhey Radhey instead. In a couple of hours, we were imbued with this amiable local custom.
The other practical advice given to us was to take our spectacles off and keep them safely tucked in our pockets. There were monkeys all around and they had devised an ingenious method to grab people’s eyewear. Anyone venturing in the streets, ignorant of their modus operandi, was an instant victim. Suddenly, an adventurous simian would appear from nowhere, take off the glasses of the unwary person and perch on a nearby building, well within the blurred sight of the sufferer. The ‘negotiations’ to get back the spectacles would then start. No amount of bullying or cajoling seemed to work. A knowledgeable local resident would then step in and disclose a workable plan. At his erudite suggestion, a yellow carton of mango juice of a popular brand needed to be procured and handed over to the guileful monkey. The way this exchange would take place was a sight to behold. The creature would mimic a cordial business exchange as if two high-ranking emissaries were swapping files after signing an agreement. The monkey would hand over the spectacles and gleefully take the carton to enjoy the juice at the expense of the hapless victim.
Such incidents occurred with clockwork precision during the two days of my stay. Every couple of hours, I would see from my room’s window a crowd watching the unfolding drama whose protagonist was an enterprising ape with its prized possession. One could not help marvelling at the ingenuity of our ‘brethren’ separated by an evolutionary cycle. At the same time, it was amusing to see some devotees stagger on the uneven streets without their spectacles. One of them commented in exasperation when he stumbled on missing a step: ‘Cannot wear spectacles for fear of being robbed, but cannot see clearly without them.’
On the day of my departure, I was witness to another memorable episode. I was startled to note that our very own victorious ape had refused the mango juice carton. While I stood there transfixed, the watchman came and replaced the yellow carton with a red one of mixed fruit juice. Now, the exchange proceeded as smoothly as before. The watchman explained that some monkeys might have got bored of the mango juice and changed their preference to the mixed fruit variety. I wondered that perhaps these monkeys were not lagging too far behind humans in greedily satisfying their needs.
