by Atul Chandra Sarkar
The newborn cries and screams,
Unknotted from the mother,
It subconsciously realizes that:
It can never get another.
The diaper, gentle and soft,
Knots the freedom of shame,
Shaped, stringed cloth pieces,
Which grandmas give a name.
The trials of learning on and on,
How to knot the pyjama string,
The art of unknotting it again,
A penultimate to body-awakening.
The skill of knotting shoestrings,
Ensuring it doesn’t unknot,
To avoid a sudden slip or fall,
When lost in knotted thought.
The nuptial knot ties two together,
But unknots in isolation,
One complements the other,
To evolve a new creation.
The ball of life’s yarn rolls on,
With more and more tangle,
Some knots need to be tugged
Harder to dissolve a wrangle.
Some knots become adorable,
Some endearing in the run,
Some become disgusting,
Which one wants to shun.
Some knots are truly fragile,
Some snap and give pain,
The cat of Time keeps pawing,
Soon life begins to wane.
Never ever be knotted,
Learn the art to untangle,
Have faith in the Divine, lest
Knots become a strangle.
Just as in death they undo
All the knots you wear,
Unknot your mind, your heart,
Your soul, to move out there.
Let knots be naughts for good,
Cast off each enslaving chain,
The knots of attachment are
Sources of the worst of pain.
Forgive, forget, move ahead,
Be light, be pure, be free,
Loosen knots, one and all,
Regain Immortality.
Last updated July 16, 2016