All day long, we sit on the crumbling wall of the cemetery. Our feet, clad in mud-crusted Mary Janes, dangle inches above the wild grass.
There is silence . . . a blanket of windless heat punctuated by the caw of crows and the chatter of squirrels, until the first fat bullets of rain lodge themselves on our necks.
We shoulder the bags, put on our rain capes and begin the long walk back. We must have looked hunchbacked, the rain capes bulging over our oversized school bags. Once this would have been reason enough for ceaseless bouts of laughter, we may even have splashed about in the muddy puddles or tried to catch the raindrops on our tongue.
But not today.
roar of rain . . .
knowing what she means
by ‘he touches me’
About the author:
Paresh Tiwari is a writer, poet and a cartoonist in the body of a Naval Officer. He has been widely published, especially in the sub-genre of Japanese poetry. The first collection of his haiku and haibun, An Inch of Sky, was published in 2014. Currently the resident cartoonist for Cattails, a journal by United Haiku and Tanka Society, USA, he was also commissioned for thirty-five illustrations for the December 16 edition of Frameless Sky. Tiwari has been invited to read his works at various literature festivals, including the Goa Art and Lit Fest – 2016, and has conducted haiku and haibun workshops at Hyderabad International Literature Festival – 2014, SIES College Mumbai and British Council Library, Mumbai. His second book of haibun, titled Raindrops chasing Raindrops is likely to be in the bookstores by Jun 2017.
He can be contacted at [email protected]
Image: “Exodus, Untitled trasparency SN1” by Olivier Fonteau. Acrylic iridescent, volcanic sand and China ink on glass 30x40cm.