Coming of Age

Photograph by Fiona Rogers

Story by Chris Solomon

Life is a sheltered affair—at the moment—for this newborn gray langur tucked in the protective arms of its mother near Jodhpur, India. The infant needs to mature quickly, though. Other langurs may soon shatter its peaceful existence.

Gray langurs (genus Semnopithecus), also called Hanuman langurs, live in a range of habitats, from tropical forests in Sri Lanka to slopes nearly 4,000 meters (13,000 feet) above sea level in the Himalayas. They’re comfortable around humans, too: perhaps 2,000 live in and around Jodhpur, a city of 1.5 million people, including in city markets. The name Hanuman langur comes from the monkey god of the Ramayana, one of Hinduism’s sacred texts; it’s illegal to harm the animals in India.

Photographers Fiona Rogers and Anup Shah spent a month shooting Jodhpur’s gregarious primates, with their silky grayish fur, distinctive black faces and hands, and long tails like bell pulls that help with balance. The photographers focused on the Daiger Troop, a group of about 100 langurs that lives on a massive rock outcrop about 15 kilometers (9 miles) outside the city. In March, the peak of birthing season, Rogers captured this image of a langur only a few days old. (Hanuman langurs are born with pink faces and hands, but they turn black in a few months.)

Female gray langurs remain for their entire lives with the group they’re born into. Though they adhere to a hierarchy, they also hug frequently and seem to develop strong bonds. And during birthing season, “a kind of nursery forms,” says Rogers, in which mothers hand their offspring to other females to care for them for brief periods, “and everyone looks after the babies in whatever style suits them.”

Over the span of several weeks, Rogers watched the young grow up: they ventured away from their mothers, started to walk and then run, and soon became incredibly acrobatic. “I occasionally saw a youngster throw itself backwards from the cliff edge, only to land intact on its two feet, 20 meters (65 feet) below, on a narrow ledge.”

The Daiger Troop exists as a harem, with just a single adult male among its hundred or so members. He was large and gruff, with a booming call; Rogers and Shah nicknamed him Big Boy. The female langurs groomed him. And Big Boy impregnated them and kept grim watch to make sure other langurs stayed out of the group’s territory. As the newborn langurs grew, a test of their boldness and dexterity was to touch Big Boy and then scamper to safety before the grumpy male had a chance to retaliate.

Alas, peace never lasts long. Although langurs sometimes arrange themselves in groups with multiple males, most males born into harems are ejected after they mature. These cast-offs form so-called bachelor bands that occasionally invade and challenge a harem’s reigning male. Fights are common; a leader’s reign usually only lasts about four years.

When a new top male ascends, his first act is often to slaughter all the infants and unweaned young his predecessor sired. The infanticide carries a brutal logic: stripped of their children, the females will be ready to mate again in a matter of months. One study found that nearly a quarter of gray langur infants are killed by an incoming male.

So don’t linger in your mother’s arms for long, little one. The world won’t always be this peaceful.