I went up to the crowd, to summon the owner immediately. On inquiring further, I found that its owner, a labourer, had left the monkey to its friends for the day (they were doing some repair work on the wall of our colony). I demanded them to release the animal, or otherwise, the hobby being illegal would be stricly dealt with (me a regular at PFA events, though i don't adhere to all their ideas). They refused, quoting that I'd have to wait till evening, when the owner returns. I couldn't hold it any longer.
I brought a pair of scissors in my left, and a phone in my right hand. I asked them to either cut his collar (it was just a piece of cloth tied real tight around the neck) and release him, or I call the authorities. "Either monkey goes, or you go (to jail)". As expected, the crowd dispersed in a cowardly fashion. Left out there were the labourers, who were friends with the owner of the monkey. The agreed to set him free, giving me some relief (I was afraid I'd have to face some resistance). Finally the animal was free!
But contrary to my expectation, the monkey remained still. He was still crying. He just stood there, not knowing what to do. I tried to shoo him away, threw stones, pointed towards the patch of trees behind our house. But to no avail. The mammal had lost all the instincts during captivity. His nails had been made blunt. I could feel the embarassment riding up my spine. A guilt at the same time. And a feeling of pain for the poor creature.
I had to ask the labourers to tie it back, for he would've been devoured by the dogs otherwise. I made it back to home with a morose soul. I could still hear the squalling of the monkey outside.
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