Traditionally, monkeys have been a part of South Asian folklore, mythology, and daily life. In Hinduism, the monkey god Hanuman symbolizes strength, devotion, and loyalty. Monkeys are often revered and even fed during religious festivals. Yet, the treatment of real monkeys, particularly those trained for performance, can contrast sharply with this sacred image.
The “dance” that a bander and bandariya perform is not a natural behavior. It is taught—sometimes through harsh methods. Training begins when the monkeys are very young. They are often taken from their mothers at an early age, kept in chains, and subjected to repetitive routines. The training process may involve beatings, deprivation, and fear to ensure the monkey obeys commands. The final result is a performance that appears amusing or entertaining to onlookers but comes at the cost of the animal’s physical and emotional well-being.
Despite the cruelty involved, these performances persist, especially in rural areas and small towns, where traditional forms of street entertainment still have an audience. The madari, often from marginalized communities, depends on these performances for income. For them, the dance is not just a show—it’s survival. This creates a moral dilemma: while the use of animals for performance is exploitative, banning it outright without offering alternatives to the humans involved only deepens poverty.
In recent years, animal rights organizations have pushed for stricter laws against the exploitation of animals in street performances. The Wildlife Protection Act of 1972 in India prohibits the capture and trade of monkeys, and training them for entertainment is considered illegal. However, enforcement remains a challenge. Poverty, lack of education, and the unregulated nature of street performances make it difficult to eliminate this practice entirely.
At the same time, growing awareness and education are making a difference. In urban areas, public attitudes are shifting. More people now recognize that what was once seen as harmless fun is actually a form of cruelty. Some former madaris have been helped by NGOs to transition into new livelihoods, such as puppetry, music, or selling handicrafts. Their trained monkeys have been rescued and rehabilitated in sanctuaries.
From a cultural perspective, the dance of the bander and bandariya symbolizes more than just entertainment. It is a mirror reflecting our relationship with the natural world. It shows how we project human behaviors onto animals, expecting them to amuse us, follow our orders, and fit into our stories. It also reveals the underlying power dynamics—between man and animal, rich and poor, audience and performer.
Interestingly, when one watches closely, the monkeys often seem confused, distressed, or simply exhausted. Their movements may appear coordinated, but they are rarely joyful. The bandariya’s little skirt and the bander’s hat might add color to the show, but they are costumes hiding an uncomfortable truth: the performance is not a celebration of nature—it’s a manipulation of it.
