This World Refugee Day, we advocate the acceptance of all.
But as a young monkey is about to learn…
Acceptance is a two-way banana-leaf bagpack.
🍌🍃🐒
“Raid! Raid! Everyone scatter!” Milo the dropped the durian he had been vainly trying to prise apart and scrambled to the nearest vine.
Jolt. Somethng pushed the awkwardly tall tree…
And he tumbled, with primate flourish, into a waiting supermarket trolley.
Its wheels kept rolling.And rolling.
They wouldn’t stop.
Bump.
Milo awoke, shaking his furry head. There were no longer any durian trees.
Just a long road with cars zooming by continuously. Persistently.
He looked about him, head spinning with durian visions.
Durians. Lots of trees and durians.
But no troop.
He got to his feet. He had to find his way home before they laid down the fearsome verdict-
Expulsion.
So he packed his banana-leaf-bagpack and started walking.
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Milo stumbled on for a full ten kilometres before he came upon another dense forest.
Even denser than the one he was accustomed to.
Eyes frantically scanning the familiar yet foreign durian trees around him,
His eyes finally spied a hornbill languishing in a lake apparently forgotten-
No boats . No rafts.
Just a bird with a cup as a beak.
‘Walk another two klometres. You will come upon the tallest durian tree. There’s a troop of your kind known for easy acceptance.”
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So little Mlo found himself and his bagpack at the said tree.
And a troop seated, cross-legged.
Milo balked. He had never been particularly religious.
“Join us. Connect with your inner banana.”
Milo, unfortunately, was only interested in the outer ones.
Off he went, tail between his legs.
He walked another two kilometres and came upon another troop.
“Hello,” He approached the leader hesitantly.
The leader greeted him with a smile and a brief wave of his tail.
Now that was promising except–
Every macaque communicated with tail.
His had been docked by his troop’s elders since birth.
He bent down, shaking his butt.
The other monkey returned a blank stare.
Butt in vain (and in pain) , he moved on.
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To another clump of trees.
And finally. Someone familiar.
Miso, his troop’s leader.
Milo broke into frenzied tears.
“I’ve missed you guys! Do you know how long it’s taken me to-“
Milo drew up.his palm-top banana leaf computer.
“Password?
Milo gave him a blank stare.
“Password. What is it?
The little macaque tried in vain to guess what it was.
Coconut surprise.
Mao Shan Wang (King of Fruits)
Mighty Miso ( A little flattery had to lead somewhere).
Jackfruit Macaque.
Macaque Frappucino.
The troop stayed unmoved.
It wasn’t enough that he had to navigate password Everests.
There were the absolutely ridiculous rules.
No stealing from plastic bags.
Weekly banana count meetings.
Filling in grooming feedback forms.
Milo’s jaw dropped without closing. For a long while.
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So Milo packed his belongings in his banana leaf bagpack and moved on.
He hadn’t much choice.
Or so he thought.
Then, another clump of trees.
An odd clump.
With distended branches.
And a troop of odd cretins.
One with a tail that zig zagged.
Another with a conical head.
Another with two left-sided tails.
Another consumed by human spy tactics and binoculars.
Hopeless, he thought.
Then he heard it.
A strange, yet unmistakable sound.
Laughter.
Unbridled joy.
No meetings. Or banana counts.
Milo was in a haven.
His.
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Original story by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.
Mirrors of the Mind by Michelle Liew is a collection of psychological and supernatural short stories that explore the quiet unease beneath ordinary moments. These are not tales of spectacle, but of subtle fracture — where memory distorts, silence speaks, and the self is not always singular. In these stories, what is unseen often carries the greatest weight, and what lingers is not what is shown, but what is felt.
