i was writing a grand thesis on the orphaned existence of discarded people.
when the tether was removed i gave her a dry fish. did not eat it. gave a fulsome bone. did not touch it. gave the milk from the ad. did not even regard it. kissed her. did not show any reaction.
because she came on a monday i named her luna.
whenever i called her she wagged her tail. wagged her ears. luna luna luna i whispered thrice in her ears.
like the golden peaks of mookaambika, he sharpened his ears. me and he did not play any game. before we could, she came under the wheels of a vehicle. without autopsy without a second look at the body i buried him under the hibiscus tree with many blooms falling to the ground.
two of the flowers went to a karnataka guy’s father’s death rites. some turned into hibiscus juice. some were visited by butterflies.
frequently, the earth where luna was buried forgot her. me too.
another noon, a german dog named adi was found playing a game of placing fish bones on luna’s tomb.
no dog will cease to play till the question hung in the air “my little sister, you have forgotten me?”*
Kuzhur Wilson Translated by Ra Sh
(( To S. Sithara who memorised Khasakkinte Ithihaasam (The Saga of Khasak) when she was still a kid)
*This is an original reference from the novel ` The Saga of Khasak’ by O.V.Vijayan, translated by the author.