In the silken parks and opulent balconies of India's upscale gated communities, a complex social ecosystem thrives, ruled not by the human residents, but by three distinct creatures. While people retreat indoors, citing extreme weather or pollution, the dogs, peacocks, and monkeys have negotiated a delicate, unspoken truce, partitioning the world amongst themselves. This microcosm, observed by author Saikat Majumdar and first published on December 3, 2025, reveals a fascinating hierarchy where human presence is often peripheral.
The Established Citizens: Dogs and Peacocks
The dogs, like the collared and named trio of Mini, Jhumki, and Jagga, are perhaps the most integrated with human life. They know their friends and the sources of food—rotis, fruits, and meaty chicken bones, sometimes even chappals to carry away. Their domain is the streets and parks, though they understand the boundary that keeps them away from the houses themselves. They nuzzle against loving legs and create cinematic moments by chasing children on bicycles, a scene that delights some and frightens others.
The peacocks, meanwhile, are the celebrated beauties. Residents' chests swell with pride that these magnificent birds strut through their streets, even if they leave droppings on balconies for armies of sweepers to clean. They cheat between trees, balconies, and scaffolding, causing a faint whisper of happiness wherever they go. People unconsciously slow down to admire them before the birds melt into the greenery, becoming invisible. They are birds that cannot fly well, a fact the watchful dogs note patiently.
The Scandalous Interlopers: The Monkey Kingdom
The monkeys occupy a more ambiguous, transient space. They are not citizens but agents of change, shooting through trees and terraces with a scandalous energy reminiscent of their mythical ancestor. Their arrival is announced by light tremors and loud din, prompting guards' whistles and people vanishing from balconies, pulling children inside. They lack the formal rights of the dogs or the adored status of the peacocks. Yet, people observe them with a perky curiosity, not quite hatred, but not enough affection to share their space.
Their motives are pragmatic: uncovered garbage bins, asbestos sheds, blue canopies of under-construction houses, and water tanks. They darken the sky over the dogs to raid bins and are puzzled by the peacocks, who seem disinterested in human refuse. Their shadows always prick the air with commotion.
The Invisible Humans and the Animal Gaze
The human residents, as Majumdar notes, are often hidden. They remain inside their villas, voices and sounds leaking out, with lights staring like eyes at night. They emerge to fiddle with gate poles, cleaning brooms, watering pipes, and their vehicles. The real, constant observation happens between the animals. The dogs always know when the monkeys arrive. The peacocks remain alert to the dogs' rough smell and hanging teeth, and are puzzled by the branch-floating monkeys.
This intricate web of awareness and territory defines the community more than any human committee. The animals have sorted out the world between them: dogs rule the ground, peacocks cheat across vertical and horizontal planes, and monkeys periodically raid from above. It's a silent governance of the urban jungle, established long before the humans decided it was too hot, too cold, or the air too dirty to stay outside.
Saikat Majumdar, author of five novels including 'The Amateur' and 'The Remains of the Body', offers this unique lens on contemporary Indian life.
