"They refuse to have their liquor licenses revoked, and also we have received threats from all the surrounding towns saying if we revoke licenses, the monkeys will simply shift their focus and carry on being a nuisance in their vicinity."
Meanwhile, the police were luckier than the army men, for it had been generally agreed upon that they were incapable of taking an active part in something on such a great scale as this and hand been given the job of preparing the nets that were to be used to catch the monkeys.
"Arre chottu,' they called to the tea boy.' arre, over here,' to the sweet-potato seller, the peanut man and the cold-drink cart. Thus they made the most of this time and were content.
In the matter of few days' time, the Hungry Hop boy had been demoted from a life of self-imposed imprisonment to one of family-enforced detainment and he felt as if the his pride were being overlooked and insulted.
But Sampath sat in the guava tree, encased in absolute stillness like a forest captured within a quiet moment of amber.
There were ways of thinking about darkness. He could steel himself against it, Sampath thought, close his eyes tight, wrap himself up in his quilt. Or he could let all it's whisperings, all it's shades of violet, float into him. This impersonal darkness could be comforting as no human attention ever was.
He picked one. Perfect Buddha shape. Mulling on it's inside, unconcerned with the world.... beautiful, distant fruit, growing softer as the days went by, as the nights passed on; beautiful fruit filled with an undiscovered constellation of young stars.
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