Blog #58: An Indian Wake-up Call

I was awoken early this morning by a monkey literally bursting through the door of my hostel room, where it took a perch on top of the large set of lockers, only about a foot away from my bed on the top bunk.

He could have easily made the jump.

I wondered if it were the same monkey I saw yesterday, who used a woman's head as a launching pad as it leapt from one side of the Lakshman Jhula to the other.

I looked at the monkey.

I looked at the Australian man on the top bunk across from me. I saw the fear in his eyes.

I looked at the monkey again. We made eye contact. I dared him to jump into my bed.

He didn't.

Almost as fast as he came in, he disappeared, leaving our door wide open and the sun glaring into the darkness we had only moments ago been resting in.

The six of us in the room heaved a sigh of relief, shared a quick laugh about the whole thing, and quickly fell back asleep.

I watched as the Australian leaned from his top bunk to push the door closed, as if it would keep any future monkeys out, despite its failure to do so the first time. But, whether it was the door or a lack of similarly audacious monkeys, we were safe for the rest of the morning.

In Kansas, the rooster crows to wake you up, so they say. In India, the monkey leaps into your room, so I've seen.