The town of Shimla is breathtaking and one first falls in love with the picturesque backdrops and the quaint, laid back lifestyle of hill living, a difficult retreat to find in the chaotic larger cities of India that never sleep. After a few days of leisure, you notice aberrant fixtures on the doors and windows. Bars cast shadows over the glass like a prison. On a second glance, you begin to notice an odd consistency of spiky branches that have only fallen on the tops of vehicles.
However, all trimmings are intentional attempts to ward off monkey malice. The slimy thieves break into your house with ease, take your food, steal your clothes, and leave your house in utter disarray. Don't worry, if you are a woman and try to shoo the monkey away, he's not that scared of you. The little devil will smugly continue on ravaging your home. (For some reason, monkeys are only scared of men. Ladies, don't go out alone!) The thorny branches put on the car by their owners are a frail defense to all monkey business, from monthly monkey meetings to sweet monkey love making. Chitrak once told me a story of a friend that had just bought a new car, and while they were away one day, the dome was beaten in to look like it had suffered an unrelenting hail storm. (Should have invested in the handy-dandy thorny branch!)
Our days were full of treks up and down steep slops, through crowded markets of colorful knick knacks and sweets. I wish it were only the monkeys I was frightened of. The larger, and wiser langur are just down-right terrifying. But, let's save that for another day!
Our days were full of treks up and down steep slops, through crowded markets of colorful knick knacks and sweets. I wish it were only the monkeys I was frightened of. The larger, and wiser langur are just down-right terrifying. But, let's save that for another day!
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