Our minds are different, for each of us. And that mind is more powerful than us, as human beings. If it decides that, for example, blood is blue, then come what may, blood will be blue. And if it decides that, when projecting the image of our own reflections in the mirror, we are beautiful, then that’s what we are. But, let’s face it, there’s plenty of you out there that are not. And some are even more revolting to look at than others. But even for them, in their own minds, they are beautiful. And this, dear friends (beautiful and ugly ones) is where our story begins.
The Monkey and the Grape, you ask? What the fuck is that all about? Well, it’s a loose translation of sorts. From an Urdu / Hindi phrase. Langoor Ke Moon Mein Angoor, which literally means “A Langur with a Grape in its mouth”. Let’s break it up before the explanation. The Langur is a common breed of monkey found in South East Asia. Wikipedia it, if you must. The Angoor is a grape. Sweet, juicy, soft and generally delightful. And what’s so strange about that? Well, I don’t know, but I’m guessing it has something to do with monkeys usually going for bananas, and the one rare occasion where one of them manages to get his fingers round a grape – considered a fruit much higher in prestige, I would say. But, what does it all mean?
The Monkey and the Grape are the very definition of what you and I know as the balance of life – the Yin and the Yang. For every Yin needs a Yang, and every Yang, a Yin. It is on this very basis that our most important relationships are built – those we share with our beloveds. In every normal, two-people relationship (straight or gay), there exists a monkey and there exists a grape. The monkey, in this case, is the fortunate one, and the grape is the one who could’ve done better. See where I’m going here? You’ve all seen it, you all know it, it exists all around us. You see a fat, sweaty fucktard at a restaurant with an 8.5 nibbling on his ear, and you say “Dear god, what the fuck?”. He’s got to be rich as hell, true, but he’s been at it with this same hottie for years. There’s got to be something more to it than just the moolah. Well, there is. It’s true love; and true love can not be maintained without true balance. That, right there, is the bittersweet truth.
How many times do you come across two people of equal hotness (say a guy and a girl who’re both a 7.5 ) having a lasting relationship? Almost never! And, if perchance it does last, then there’s something else that’s wrong (like she’s fucking cuckoo), but that’s another story altogether. The monkey will never be satisfied with another monkey, because when the monkey sees itself in the mirror, it doesn’t see a monkey… it sees a grape. And so, the search begins for a grape until one day the monkey that thinks it’s a grape actually meets a grape that’s okay to settle for a monkey that thinks it’s a grape. If that didn’t make sense to you the first time, read it again.
Our Southeast-Asian wordsmiths have always been believers of the creationism and have never come to terms with the fact that man and monkey evolved from the same original species. Fuck Darwin, they say. And it is that belief which makes them refer to the Langur (which in reality is quite a smart creature) as dumb, useless, ugly and generally unworthy of respect. Personally, I feel the Langur is a much more dignified creature than this saying implies.
The Grape is a bit dodgy, though. See, a grape could probably make do with another grape; it’s not impossible. But then, it takes a monkey to make the grape realize how awesome it is. Another grape would be like “Yeah, whatever”, but the monkey, who’s spent most of his life munching bananas knows he’s scored a 3-pointer (basketball analogy, for a change) with the grape. He gets himself into a charming little fix in trying to make the grape feel appreciated. Now, in reality, both the grape and the monkey know the complete truth about each other – the grape knows it is lowering its standards, and the monkey knows it has had a stroke of luck. The other grapes in the bunch try and coax this one grape to get out of the monkey’s wretched grasp. The monkey, who now believes that suddenly he’s worthy of the grape, starts to look down upon other monkey folk (who, by the way, are still stuffing bananas). The other monkeys hate this monkey, but secretly want to be this monkey. The other grapes oust this grape because it’s been grabbed by, of all creatures, a monkey. And life goes on. Monkey and grape, forever.
What I have been trying to illustrate with all that rambling is that both of them, the monkey and the grape, need each other. The monkey, to feel it’s own worth, and the grape, to be appreciated, even if it’s amongst lower forms of life. Look around you. Every relationship has it. Although, to be honest, most people, when asked, believe that they are the grape that’s been caught in a monkey’s hand. Very few will admit otherwise. I encourage everyone to look at others, and, more importantly, at themselves, and realize their true place. If you’re a monkey with a grape, good for you. If you’re a grape with a monkey, well, he was eating bananas before you came along, and we know you won’t let him forget it, so have fun with your cruel taunts. As for me, you decide.