As the ever-effacing scythe of time reaps on, it’s no longer the same world. We have turned out to be a sensationalist species. Our riling and abrasive march on the path has forced the lesser species to go hush-hush and move prohibitively, trying to stay away from our snipes and barbaric barbs.
But our simian friends, the co-sharers of our gloriously compulsive traits, still hold out the baton from the side of the lower species. Everything from flowers to jewellery is under risk. How can things be normal with so many monkeys around? The situation is grim. Sometime in future, I apprehend a ‘Planet of the Apes’ kind of scenario.
The rhesus monkeys aren’t simply driven by instincts. They surely have a strong intent to carry out their thuggery. They love breaking, ruffling, toppling and shuffling things. To watch their misdeeds is an illustrated treat in itself. They deftly handle the myriad strands of foolhardiness to spin out most outrageous of stage scenes. Their sexuality is decidedly warped like their more evolved brethren. I see two monkeys going normally over the top of a wall. Suddenly, the one behind jumps onto the haunches of the one in front and feigns vigorous, avaricious pelvic thrusts to pacify the pangs of lust lying forever unsatisfied in the psychic realms. It’s a blatant slap on our norms. A typical tome of their mischief.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Kindly feel free to give your feedback on the posts.