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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 ...

Wall

That’s how tall..
Is the wall.
Between you and me.
Speaking friendly..
Tweaking repeatedly..
Hypothetical analogy..
Hiding behind..
Akwardly opening a single blind.
That’s why..
You ask.
What is with the wall?
To which I retreat..
Suitably as I greet..
Promising a reply..
Until the next fall.
Glad there’s the wall..
To handle the apphall..
A stranger’s call..
Is nowhere to be considered..
Maybe peep through the keyhole..
To avoid any immediate stall.
Looking through the wall..
A whole world that was found across..
Wasn’t struck small..
Kids playing..
Kites flew through the sidewalk..
Cloud soaring..
Cheerful crowd uproaring..
And that’s not all..
If only I could get to the other side of the wall..
Where stories..
Walk past the river..
Listening to which..
I can only stand out in cold and shiver

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