Celluloid thoughts

The following poem was written by Tissa Abeysekera's son, on his death anniversary
which fell on April 18.
We publish it today as part of the ongoing commemorations:
I sit on your chair
I see the world through your eyes
Colourful books adorn the walls of your room
Much like the colourful memories of you that adorn our hearts
I hear your voice and see your face
Only, through what today is a celluloid memory defining what you once were
I stand among a crowd I once stood in as your son
Unknown to them, your name once defined me
They no longer see me as your son
But as a blueprint and a representation of yourself that you left behind
I am, to them, one of your creations, bringing life to what you wanted them to see
If you were to see what I have become today
And what I want to become tomorrow
Would you shudder or smile? This I'll never know
Am I a reflection of the great titan of a man you once were?
Or am I the independent identity you hoped I would be?
These questions only you could answer
As I get up out of your chair, and walk out of this room, I only hope
I become as great a father as you once were

- Dimitra Abeysekara