The Languishing Langurs: A story of their struggle to survive

A story of woe and worry

Every story is supposed to have a beginning. A middle. An end.

Except for the one I’m going to tell you.

Our story lacks both the former and the latter. I do not know how – or even when – our story begins. Neither do I know how or when our story will end. What I do know is that our story is one of woe and worry. Ours is a story about our struggle for survival in the unforgiving Anthropocene – the age of Man – and our perilous journey to evade extinction.

Our ancestors would have related a different story. Like us, they dwelled predominantly in the southwestern wet zone of a tiny teardrop-shaped island called Sri Lanka in the Indian Ocean when the land glowed with a luxuriant green. However, our times are different from theirs. The lustrous green of towering trees has been replaced with the lackluster grey of high-rises and the birds’ sweet melodies are drowned by anthropogenic cacophonies.

Nature’s delicate balance is collapsing and today we peer over the precipice of extinction.

Who are we? We go by many names. The Sinhalese call us the ‘Kalu Vandhura’; the Tamils call us ‘Mundi’. In English, we are called the Purple-faced langur. Christened Semnopithecus vetulus by the scientific community, we are a highly threatened endemic species. The Western purple-faced langur, one out of our five sub-species, is included in the list of the IUCN’s (International Union for Conservation of Nature) World’s 25 most endangered primates.

You can identify us from our distinct pelage of grey, our greyish-black humanoid faces, and our long tails with a tuft of white fur at their ends. We can be found in small groups, roaming the forests surrounding the Kalatuwawa and Labugama reservoirs located in the Western province, in the rainforests in the south, in mountain terrains, and wandering through the ever-changing urban and residential landscapes.

Lost in an alien world

Our ecosystems are formed by the dynamic synergies of both living and non-living entities. Each of these entities has its own effect on the functioning of these ecosystems. As an arboreal species feeding primarily on foliage, our survival depends heavily on the availability of forest cover. Rapid urbanization and deforestation leave us extremely vulnerable, without a place to call home and without food to ward off our hunger.

There is no doubt at how rapidly our environments are evolving – catalyzed by man’s drive for development. Unsustainable development. Unfortunately, we can’t adapt fast enough to face these drastic changes.

Leaping from the leafy boughs onto oblique rooftops – which occasionally results in a few broken roofing tiles – navigating the modern-day environment hasn’t been a walk in the park. Our survival is threatened by the innumerable dangers brought about by modern-day development. From electric cables to feral dogs and speeding motor vehicles, death seeks us out from every corner.

I wonder whether you know what it feels like to be made to feel alienated from one’s own home and to see it encroached by forces beyond your comprehension. If you do, you will understand our anguish and the pain we feel. Left with but a few choices and with nowhere else to find refuge, we are compelled to steal food from gardens and plantations to feed our starving children – despite the shouts and stones people send our way.

The fragmentation of our habitats split our populations causing our numbers to dwindle. As a consequence of the shrinking population size, the genetic diversity of our species has rapidly declined and therefore we are vulnerable to diseases now more than ever.  

Having lost about 80% of our forest lands in the recent past, our kin battle over the few remaining territories. These conflicts can often turn ugly resulting in many fatalities and deaths – especially of our children. The forests – bereft of our whooping calls – now echo the silent song of death and devastation.

We are forced to walk a tightrope over the chasm of extinction – and men are slowly cutting the threads.

Searching for hope

Our conservation has been partly ensured by the fundamental Buddhist values of non-violence and love for sentient beings that have been inculcated in the hearts of most people in the country. The aversion of these people to destroy life has helped us survive in human settlements. We often find sanctuary in the home gardens of generous souls who let us rest and replenish our energy in the cool shade, providing us with succulent fruits that help sustain us.

But even these safe havens are quickly disappearing.

The conservation of our species depends on the conservation of the forests and the home gardens in urban regions. Increasing the amount of forest cover is by far the best possible solution to prevent our extinction. To do this, it is crucial to make people aware of our threatened status and the importance of conserving our species.

We are but a dying species living on a dying planet. Though we are prepared to fight for our lives, we are powerless alone. Our survival depends on your actions, and we hope our pleas wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.

This is our story – a story of our strife and our struggles. This story didn’t have a beginning and I pray that it will not have an end. At least not anytime soon.

By Rtr. Yowan Dias

Image Credits:

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