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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 ...

That Day

One day you talk about me..
About my story which your voice captures.
One day you look upto me for all the right answers.
One day you sit next to me..
As if only I matter.
One day you put your hands..
On my head and ease out the clutter.
One day you walk with me..
Holding onto me till the end of the ladder.
One day you search me..
Finding me you smile instead of looking any further.
One day it’s just me..
And we keep on walking farther.
One day you teach me..
What you have learnt so far.
One day you know me..
And words become doors fallen ajar.
What if that day is all I have…

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