The Blue Couch

The blue couch had been part of the living room furniture for as long as I cared to remember. The couch was in no way extraordinary. But it was as comfortable as any. It was blue and soft and gently bouncy. We could leap back onto it and like a trusted old friend it would bear our weights, its old springs complaining maybe just a little. My brother and I have enjoyed many a hearty tiffs for the remote on its spaciously inviting lap-the generous upholstery always cushioning our blows and falls.

To us this couch was as important a part of our childhood as our favourite toys still treasured in some dark corner in our rooms. Many a times the couch had been moved around the room to suit my mother’s fancy during her numerous ‘redecorate the house’ frenzies. But little did i know that it would soon be moved out of the house in a fresh attack of my mother’s old malady.

On one of my weekend visit home from college, our living room had been transformed. The friendly old couch had replaced by this elegant wooden structure. Well it was indeed beautiful to behold alright- its wooden back with cane-work and its polished wooden seat had been adorned with two pretty cushions precariously balanced on their pointed sides. But it didn’t seem like my home anymore. For starters the TV was switched off and my brother was not found to be sprawling lazily on the couch flipping channels. Later I rather painfully realized that it was no longer possible to jump back on to this thing and land comfortably. And my brother and I no longer fought for the TV remote, as our first duel on the new seats resulted in bruises on my hand.

But my mother was extremely proud of the new piece of furniture. Visitors too were all praise for my mother’s elegant taste. Well they could afford to do that. They didn’t live here. It was all very convenient for them to compliment my mother and then get up and leave when their backs started to ache from sitting upright in our sophisticated new replacement.

And like all the other changes we grew up with, we accepted this one too. Moving on, leaving behind us the little things that are now merely a part of our memories of the oh-so wonderful childhood.