Translated from the Malayalam by Gayatri Devi
Mellow,
For your morning walk,
a morning
like a sidewalk
rolled out by morning itself!
Balmy and warm.
The symphony of birds.
Meditating trees, silent.
After three weeks
the sun has returned from
its hideout.
The sun that rose today for
a dog.
Mellow sun.
Mellow,
My love,
says the sun’s
warm embrace.
Your last walk.
Our final walk together.
I might walk
without you.
Different pace
different rhythm.
But
that would not be
this me.
When one ceases to be,
his beloved ones
also cease to be.
One death
equals many deaths.
Mellow,
My friend,
whom lymphoma picked
for its cruel reign,
how enthusiastic you are today!
Did you get the secret news
that your morning walks
have reached their twilight hours?
You have the ardor of youth in you.
New vigor animates your withered limbs.
Perhaps childlike, perhaps ignorant
sometimes we morph into our past forms.
I know,
your doctor knows,
that this is your
final morning walk.
I want you to know this.
You deserve to know this.
Every dog has his rights.
I feel remorse
that I do not speak your language
to tell you about
the nearness of your death.
These days
unexpectedly
you look at me long and silently.
Is it to fix my face in your memory
after you die?
You must smell my anguish.
My misery.
Your exhaustion.
Have you put the two together
and sensed your approaching death?
Mellow,
humans know nothing.
For some time now
you prefer to sit alone.
In the shade of trees,
like a monk who has
renounced this world.
Mellow,
Look,
on either side of the street
in front of houses
in windows
the aged
and the children
greet you.
They are saying goodbye to you.
I have let them know
that this is your final walk.
The soldier who lost his legs
to America’s patriot wars
sitting in his wheelchair
is crying for you.
The elderly man with Parkinson’s
who plays quivering notes
on his saxophone
on his frequent breaks from walking
is playing today just for you.
He smiles
as if he knows death too shall pass.
This city this morning
says its farewell to you.
“Mellow,” “Mellow” –
Their cheers convulse the air.
We walk slowly.
I slacken my pace for you
just like how you used to wait for me
before.
You walk.
No,
You dance.
Your tail
grabs the love in the air
and greets the world.
Your tail that taught me
the semantic fact that
dogs do not wag their tail
because they submit to you.
Your tail now flying the flag
of your journey to eternity.
We leave the streets behind.
Mankind, trees
houses,
this world itself,
we leave behind.
Dead dog walking
with its extinguished light.
I am a proud dog
saying dying is just another
peaceful walk.
In a way, Mellow,
Isn’t every walk a death walk?
Isn’t every life
a walk in the company of death?
Are you feeling tired?
My friend,
are your legs failing you?
Look,
The rising sun
removes its veil
to show you clearly
that you need not doubt
its mighty radiance.
The rising sun sometimes
resembles the setting sun.
My friend,
Let us walk back now.
Your doctor
is waiting for our phone call.
He had told me yesterday
that he will stay awake tonight.
Author’s note: This poem is inspired by the news report of the final walk by Mellow who was suffering from advanced lymphoma with his owner Kevin Curry in Dupont, Pennsylvania. Before leaving for “doggy heaven” in June 2023, Mellow and Kevin posted a note around the neighborhood where they used to walk since 2019 saying farewell to all. Throngs of people came out to say their final goodbyes to Mellow.
Shaju V. V. (b. 1974, Kerala) writes in Malayalam and is the author of two published poetry collections, The Underworld Recipe, and The Solitary One Snacking on the Peanuts of Time, and one prose collection The Suspicious Death of a Cat Named Sania Mirza.
Gayatri Devi is a writer and translator living and working in Savannah, Georgia. She translates between Malayalam and English. Her essays and translations have been published in national and international magazines and journals.