I Fell For You
This is my last memory of you, the crayon hues that first welcomed me to your family.
You proudly handed it over to me, your creation, “Mother”, “Father” and “Friend”.
You had shyly searched for signs of appreciation on my face.
I had knowingly taken this up, thinking this task would help me progress as a psychiatrist, and a philanthropist,
What I hadn’t known, however, was that I’d slowly fall for your innocent eyes, and the way you held on to me with all the strength you could muster when you feared losing me.
I loved you then, when you awkwardly posed for our first picture together and your eyes closed at the sudden flash. You looked at me for assurance when others laughed at you.
When we held hands while we crossed the street because you couldn’t cross on your own, I loved you for the curious way you looked at the traffic signals and asked endless questions, clapped and waved at them because you liked the stories they told?
I was so lucky to have you,
A guy with child disintegrative disorder, but when had diseases ever been able to cripple people of the power of love?
I loved you then, and I love you now.
Though you’re gone, your scent lingers in these broken crayons and the new unused set of passing cars.
What more could I’ve got in life?
Who else would have loved me so unconditionally?
Who else would have happily accompanied me to orphanages because they had friends there?
Who else would have come with me to old age homes with their sketch pens, sketch book and portraits of the residents?
You live in me, still.
~ Baisakhi Chatterjee | Edited by Indu Arakkal