NEW DELHI: Delhi Assembly has admitted what everyone already knew: the monkeys are winning.
They swing in daily, unplug a wire here, snap a dish antenna there, and occasionally—it happened in 2017—venture into the House itself. Clearly, something drastic had to be done.
Enter the langur. Or rather, the idea of a langur.
Real langurs? Banned since 2012 following an environment ministry circular. So, the bureaucracy did what it does best—improvised.
First came langur cutouts. Cardboard sentinels proudly placed at vantage points. For about five minutes, the monkeys were mildly confused. Then they figured it out. Soon, they were sitting atop the cutouts, using them as observation towers for their next mischief.
Then came Plan B: humans who can sound like langurs.
The Assembly authorities are now hunting for people whose career highlight is convincingly mimicking real langurs to terrify monkeys. This has officially become a simian-versus-simian issue, except one side is human, on contract, and paid by cheque.
The theory is solid. Monkeys fear langurs. Langurs don’t fear contracts. Humans fear penalties. Everyone is motivated.
A tender has been floated. Cost: a modest Rs 17.5 lakh. Five langur-voiced experts per day, Monday to Friday. Two on Saturdays. Eight-hour shifts.
For good measure, the mimicry artists will tag along a real langur. Performance will be monitored. This is important. If your “langur speak” sounds less like a langur, you’re out. Immediate removal.
Absence will cost Rs 1,000 a day. Failure to scare monkeys? Even costlier—dignity. There will be insurance, discipline, and safety norms clauses.
The Assembly has tried everything since 2020. Langur mimics came and went. Results were mixed. Some monkeys fled. Others stared back, unimpressed. Still, hope springs eternal. Officials insist this is a humane, non-harmful deterrent. If it works, Delhi may have invented a whole new profession. If it doesn’t, well— the monkeys already know where to sit with their tails hanging.