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An Empty Chair

“An Empty Chair” By  Pratiksha Misra From morning cereal, To an evening affair, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From an angry state, To a cry for an extra bread to spare, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From the fresh water fish, To the piping hot biryani, Served in a silver dish, From crying babies, To toddler care, From trying outs, To wedding outfits, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From laughter roar, To midnight chuckles, From quieter score, To quilted giggles, From a spicy gravy, To sour taffy, From bitter to sweet, There was always dessert in the fridge, And a smiling nudge at the topmost layer, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. Now since you are gone, There is no winner at the dinner, No one asks what you would Like to eat, No one sits and repeats, How a dish tastes, It all ended too soon, How is that fair? That now instead of you, What we have is an empty chair.. *On this occassion of Thanksgiving, what my family craves for is ...

Faith

There is love in any devotion.
Sorrow in every emotion..
Loneliness in memories.
Abrupt end of stories..
Creating damp art of clay.
Trickled with innocence at play..
There is focus in every arrow.
A glimpse in your shadow..
Waiting in every window.
Wishful fate of restless row..
Tip toeing trip to the rainbow.
Through the river skipping the flow..
There is madness in every drop.
A tear or two will never stop..
Fear in every outrage.
Standing not bending at any stage..
Conquer the reign to courage.
Giving up like a holy sage..
Walking wasn’t easy.
A chosen path is never greasy..
While looking beyond the urge of waves.
That dawn of life saves..

Thoughts by - Pratiksha Misra

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