The dead peep out from the grainy monochromes of obituary columns. Wearing eagle wings over their frail arms they leap off the pages to crash into clouds or slip-in amongst unsuspecting mortals where the wind whistles through the trees. But they often seem out of place, with cashmere scarves draped over their dissolving shoulders and colourful hats donned over wispy heads.
They also give themselves away with their elaborate plans for rebellion. Who would tell them that this is an age of silence?
'Enough of clichéd epitaphs.' says one and I nod in agreement.
in step with
a guitar’s melancholy
the road back home
When the mourners leave and the flowers begin to wither, I lay over my own grave where the headstone should have, but does not read - 'Here lies a man who flew if only for a moment.'
Paresh Tiwari: An electrical engineer by profession, a creative writer, and illustrator by choice, Paresh Tiwari, grew up in the labyrinthine lanes of Lucknow. He took to Japanese literary short forms in the winter of 2012. Since then his haiku, haibun, tanka, haiga, free-form poems and flash fiction pieces have been published in various journals, anthologies and books. His first collection of haiku and haibun ‘An inch of sky’ was published by 20 Notebooks Press and is available online.