Blue comforts : Memoirs of a couch

The thrill of decorating a new home is like painting an empty canvas. I had numerous visits to the furniture stores in that month. We had to fit in pieces of dining table, beds, wardrobes and sofa-sets to convert our flat to livable space. And I was so excited.

Shopping for furniture means choosing a long term partner for your house. Different shapes and sizes of sofa sets were talking to me through the shop windows. A shining black leather recliner winking at me from a distance and alluring me to take him home. A covered cloth sofa sets in bright summer colors offering a competition to palette. They even adorned flashy and digitally printed cushion covers with ditsy celebrity faces or artistic Buddha pictures to add to the glamour. I was attracted to one of such bright blue fabric sofas. Italian making. While I was engrossed in feeling the fabric of this newly found gem, my husband on the other hand spotted a meek wooden sofa in the corner. In the world of modern architecture and design, authentic teak wooden sofas had lost its demure. And the shop sales team had shoved him in the corner. Where he could miss eyes of many.

On my husband's firm insistence, I gave a side glance to him. He was looking with half open eyes as if afraid of being in the spotlight. But it was too late. We had already started encroaching its private space. Sitting on the davenport, inspecting the jalidaar design on the sides, gorging on the wonderful natural wood polish on fine teak, pushing our heads back to get a feel of the comfort, we had already started exploiting it. After our shares of inhibition and detailed thought process, we finally decided to give that quaint little furniture set a chance. We had fun with the customization process, jute fabric with blue and cream pastel colors among other things.

The excitement of getting our first piece of furniture home is truly amazing. The feeling of new crisp fabric under your fingers, the smell of freshly painted wood. I inspected every inch of the sofa set when it arrived and I was pretty pleased with the end result. A single seater futon of the identical twin was my favorite. For no particular reason. And I placed it in the direct attention of the guests. In the centre of the arrangement. Right in front of the television.

For few days, the sofa humbly enjoyed his new home, standing majestically at the focal point. He had now opened up to his new owners offering highest level of comfort. Well technically, people might argue that this is not possible. But to me, as an emotionally attached entity, he spoke of immeasurable amount of serenity. Relaxation came out instantly upon submission.

However, his days of glory were short lived. With the news of our new settlement, the universe started conspiring to send guests at our home in huge volumes. We had began entertatining people at our house on weekly basis with night out parties in living space. Our poor little sofa had now addtitional responsibilities. At times, it was even bearing weights in range of 100-120 kgs. After each visit, it was bruised and scratched unapologetically. Long sharp fingernails of a female friend or edgy metallic bracelet on Male's hand, the exploiters were naive and the attacks were unintentional. Wet wipes from the house maid or simply poor varnish quality from the manufacturers, the sofa took it all. And soon, what once was the trendiest item in the house slowly became used , done and dusted.

 Now the days of admired acclaim are diminishing as most of our guests portfolio have visited the house atleast once. The sofa has been appreciated for its beauty and comfort enough number of times. It still stands with a pride, although bruised and torn, the comfort and luxury it provides to me is inexplicable. As a secret ritual, I reach out to the sofa on solitary days and nights, curl my legs up and bend my head backwards. And the couch still embraces me like his own taking me to new rides of snugness. Every single time.