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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 ...

Self Esteem





There were streets full of people,
Rushing towards me.
As I gaped into the crowd,
But not a single one looking at me.

There were streaks of laughter,
Piling on me.
As I tried shutting my ears,
While I sat there wiping my tears.

There was a push and a grunt,
Letting me go.
As I forced myself,
Avoiding the violent stunt.

There was a wave of darkness,
Floating right in front.
As I encountered astonished,
Never attempted hiding embarrass.

There was truth which tasted like filth,
A sheath covered but showed naked.
As I stood misunderstood,
Unable to climb up or intrude.

There was faith which mislead,
A courage to be dealt.
As I stared at the crescent,
Holding on to the impatient.

There was a final drop,
Which gleamed.
As I retraced my steps,
Taking the whiff of the remaining self esteem.




Thoughts by -
Pratiksha Misra.








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