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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 ...

Feel The Rhythm

A songs comes and goes .
Feel the rhythm on your toes..
As an unknown cult taps into..
Do you know it ?
Not too sure..
When lyrics start humming through your nose..
Fingers trickle snapping back at you..
Avoiding the music..
Hide through the doors..
But still finds its way with back flip on the floor..
Swerving to one side..
Knocking down the waves…
Chasing by amaze..
Dancing into the haze..
The lighted corridors clapping for more..
Letting down your hair..
As your steps gracefully break the chair..
Slaying while you groove..
Acing your every single move..
Landing right back to the arms of a warm affair..
That which is a door knob to be fair.
You bow down finally to drive back..
Sizzling hot as sweat drips sliding on your glare..
A blurred reflection in the rareview..
Somehow a smile as you stare.

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