A Knot in Time …

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 49; the forty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

 

There’s this long rope, knotted after each meter. It has been there since I can remember. Each knot has in it a memory, a souvenir from the past I cherish.

Look at the first knot. It has a single candle. Half the wax has gone now, its small wick now a pale brown from the white it was when it was first lit.

The fifth knot has a bangle. Not gold, not silver, but a single glass bangle, green in color. It hasn’t broken. It is small, just big enough to fit a baby girl’s tiny hand.

The thirteenth knot has a bell. A bicycle bell… it has rusted now, but the first time it was rung, it was shiny. So shiny I could see my face in it. And my sister’s too.

The fifteenth knot has a pen. A blue fountain pen… a Parker pen, the first one I was gifted. The ink inside has dried, and the nib has rusted, but it has a success in it, the first big examination cleared with distinction.

The sixteenth knot has a rose petal. It has dried, become fragile. But I can still smell the fragrance; her fragrance… the lavender perfume and the oil in her hair. If I close my eyes, I still see her smile as I give her the rose.

The twentieth knot has nothing. But it is wet with my tears. The memory is of loss. One that was hard to take. One that was, is hard to express.

The twenty-first knot has a tag. It bears my name. Leo. The first time I wrote under that name. The first time I had an escape route. The first time I realized “I live in words.”

The twenty-third knot has a key and a piece of paper. Not a key to a lock, but a key from a keyboard. The lettering has worn out, but I know it’s the right control key. The first time I was in control of my life. My first job, and with it came the first pay-slip. I made new friends, friends I still have around me.

Like that, there are twenty seven knots. But the rope is long. Many more knots left to be knotted, many more souvenirs to be collected and many more memories yet to be made.

Will I remember what the first knot meant when the next knot is knotted? I know not.

But I will feel each knot, smile as the memory seeps in through my fingers and climbs to my heart.

With each new knot, I know I have something to cherish… a moment to remember, from the trip down memory lane.

 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 29

 
(5th Oct 2014)

Leo_new_sign1

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

28 thoughts on “A Knot in Time …”

  1. Surreal post Leo. 🙂

    The line “Many more knots to be knotted, many more souveniers to be collected ad many more memories to be made” strikes a chord.

    Your posts are a joy to read.

  6. Was the post magical or beautiful… I don’t know. But your words do live within you. And in each of them I see a reflection. A poet’s reflection. You know how I don’t comment in blogs cause I just don’t know what to say other than the *adjectives*…. But this one was different. And I couldn’t help but blurt out.

  10. hah…that’s an interesting way to keep a diary…over a period of years, it would be rather interesting and overwhelming to see the articles attached to the past. Nice 🙂 All the best for BATOM!!
    Megha recently posted…Poetry of SorrowMy Profile

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