September 2016


UHTS collected works

Paresh Tiwari

Time creeps up slowly but unmistakably in layers of rot, weed and dust on grandpa's car.

The tires are the first to go. There's a brick propped behind each rusted steel hub. The brilliant cobalt of the bonnet has given way to splotches of decay. The windowpanes are stuck halfway and the fractured iron skeleton of the seats pokes through the frayed fabric.

As a boy visiting my grandparents I had often sat in the back of this car, my engine voice turned all the way up, as grandpa drove over meandering mud lanes and cut a path across the...

cerulean sky
a jet exhaust unzips
the silence

Today I peer into the rear-view mirror and wonder how has time crept up on me? The twinkle and wonder that my eyes once held are lost in a web of wrinkles, crow's feet and flecks of grey.