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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 ...

Hold

I held you long enough..
Now it’s time to go.
Is that so ?
What made you think though ?
There’s nothing to think..
And it’s pointless to blink.
You don’t hold someone to leave..
What if there’s insanity to believe?
The eyes I see..
Are meant to be free.
Struck with still..
Is thy only will.
Unhold is a tree without leaves..
Your roots grow deep..
So don’t be the one to weep.
I will hold you tight..
And let go quiet.
So that your breathe can fly.
To branch that high..
That looking down will blind you..
That until then someone will find you..
I have tighten my hold..
As this night is getting cold.

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