Emerald Green Sofa

Hi! I am Imaan. Probably like me you too are thinking who in their right mind will ever buy an emerald green sofa, right? The first time she mentioned she would like to have an emerald green sofa, I was thinking to myself, “You must be joking.” But, I knew her too well. Her taste was unique even eccentric. But, she could see what others couldn’t, so, I usually agreed to her crazy ideas and I am glad I did because she surprised me yet again, albeit in a pleasant way. I wasn’t sure when she dragged me to the furniture store; I wasn’t sure when I was unloading the sofa along with the helpers, I wasn’t sure when she kept directing us to change the position half a dozen times. Satisfied, she excused herself for a minute and came back with beige cushions which had silver floral motifs, she arranged them neatly on the sofa. On either side of the sofa, she arranged potted orchids and as final flourish there was a teak wood coffee table adorning potpourri, scented candles, lemongrass reed diffuser and hand embroidered chikankari coasters. Within minutes, she changed the entire look of the living room. But, that’s how she was, my best friend, my partner in crime, my soul mate, Nishtha. She made the helpers and me sit on the sofa, offered ice cold water followed by lemongrass chai. Once the helpers left, Nishtha and I sat on the sofa, I was trying to feel the texture of the sofa, looking around the living room with a huge grin. She was silently observing me and then she burst into laughter. There was a ring to her laughter. It was sweet and seductive like her husky voice.

Nishtha: So, how is the sofa?

Imaan: Like you, amazing!

Nishtha: Be honest. Do you like it?

Imaan: No, I don’t like it. I love it.

She threw a cushion at me and burst into laughter again.

It became our favourite corner in the house. We used to sit there, talk about our day, our dreams, love, politics, movies, life and everything in between.

A few days passed. Our hour long conversation on the emerald green sofa had stopped suddenly. Nishtha used to be silent, sometimes; she used to avoid showering for days. She used to hardly leave her room. A passionate cook, she had stopped entering the kitchen. I used to order a pizza or her favourite, Chinese. She used to have a few bites and then she used to be in her own world. Whenever I used to ask her about her state, she used to avoid my questions and leave the room. As I was soon going to have my next promotion, I was too busy on the work front and used to think of her behaviour as tantrums. My work had become my priority, after all, it was my dream to gift her yellow Beetle, her favourite car. One day when I returned from office, I kept ringing the door to no avail. Thinking maybe she has finally stepped out to get groceries, I opened the door with the spare key. As soon as I entered, my whole world collapsed. There she was lying motionless on the sofa. I rushed her to the hospital but it was already too late.

Life has returned to normalcy since that fateful evening. I have accepted her absence. It’s a void I can’t fill, however hard I tried. Without her the whole house feels empty especially the emerald green sofa.