20/ 100 Fire Pit Dog
Never Get Between a Monkey and its Mirinda
This dog, having a nap in a fire pit as they so often seem to like to do, was one that ‘belonged’ to the security guard who stood by his hut in Hauz Khas deer park all day chatting to folk and smoking. Like the dogs I mentioned in the post back in day 2 of this project, it probably wasn’t owned by the security guard, more like he fed it and, in return, it kept the naughty monkeys in the background away from his belongings.
Trust me – these monkeys were on a mission and that guard’s hut (especially his lunch) needed protection. The target of these small macaques’ incredible boldness and ingenuity? Sugar, in whatever form they could find.
Lining the entranceways to the park, of which there are only a couple, are a wide variety of food and snack sellers. You can buy chai and biscuits, fruits, charcoal-roasted sweet potatoes (I regret not ever trying one), plates of weird spicy rice, crisps, and sweet treats.
Bottles of fizzy drinks were piled up to impossible heights next to old men sat with florescent pink candy floss on long sticks. The candy floss will get a story of its own, along with an accompanying video, and for now I want to talk about the drinks.
In amongst the usual Coke and Fanta (with a bit of extra colouring because this is India) you will find Mirinda. It comes in a variety of flavours – none of them natural – and each fruit has its own lurid colour (definitely not natural either; especially the bright blue one). I actually quite liked the orange variety but it was so sweet I was usually struggling by the end of the bottle.
Folk would walk to the park, stop for some snacks and drinks, and then meander round the lake at sunset. At some point, about halfway round when the multitude of young courting couples were just getting comfortable with each other’s company, there would be a monkey ambush. Several of them would spot their target – an unsuspecting visitor carrying a shopping bag in their hand. Without warning the monkeys would scamper from every direction and complete chaos would ensue. On several occasions we saw them snatch a whole bag but sometimes they would get lucky and find their prized Mirinda nestling on top of something boring like a book or cardigan.
They would tip the bag out, discard the headphones and charging cables, grab the plastic bottle and then, as proof that they have done this many, many times before, unscrew the cap, pour it onto the floor and drink out of the resulting saccharine puddle. When the puddle was empty they would pour out a bit more; drinking from it like lions around a watering hole in the Serengeti. Sometimes the cap would be too tight but they had learned to bite a hole in the side and squeeze it out. They knew exactly how to extract the nectar of the gods from inside.
They really were like frenzied addicts. Even when the bottle was empty they would fight over it with the victor ripping the bottle apart to lick every last calorie from the plastic container.
