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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 ...

Child In You

Blowing bubbles..
Popping one by one.
Splashing water..
Roaring with laughter.
Going round and round..
Until you hit the ground.
Rowing innocence..
With simplifying nonsense.
Bowing with gratitude..
To avoid solitude.
Rattling stubbornness..
Fighting keenness.
Hitting the run..
Not forfeiting the fun.
Holding the need..
Never thinking where it leads.
Fearless trip..
And a never ending grip.
Instant tears..
With wholesome cheers.
The art of discover..
Ignoring the cover.
Truth ain’t trouble..
And lies are feeble.
Your reflection distracts..
What attracts is the child in you.

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