The saga of a sofa

Sometimes, selling a simple sofa teaches us a couple of invaluable lessons about life. The first was a realisation that selling is tough. I think rocket science is easier than selling. To those who profess otherwise, I ask one simple question. Have they tried to sell something? Especially a used item?

The sofa also taught me another important truth — that attachment may not necessarily be a bad thing. Every self-help guru or armchair philosopher tells you to practice detachment, but I beg to differ. No, attachment is good and noble too.

Now, let me connect the dots so that you do not think I’ve lost my marbles. The aforementioned sofa, my proud possession, was the kind broad enough to stretch out on for a leisurely afternoon nap, a solid piece of workmanship, and well-maintained too. The only thing wrong with her was that she was a bit long in the tooth, one of those broad-backed things that you no longer find these days in furniture stores. And although she no longer occupied pride of place in the living room, she was perfect for the family lounge.

I would have continued with this old beauty if it weren’t for my son’s visit. You know how the young like new and flashy things. And the first thing he told me was, ‘You still have that thing? ‘That thing’ was the selfsame sofa, and he had put all the energy of his youthful scorn into the word ‘that’. My poor, dear sofa! I was quick to jump to her defence, but he cut me short. ‘C’mon, mom, you can get something more modern. It brings down the look of the entire room.’ I had to agree with him, as it was indeed like the elephant in the room, huge, unwieldy and out-of-place.

Well, I didn’t want to part with such an old dear so easily. ‘It’ll still go for a good price,’ I said. Perhaps you judge me harshly for putting a price on something that to me was priceless, but you see, I felt if I sold it, it would be of value to someone and be used as lovingly by them as it was by me.

So I uploaded an ad in one of the popular buy-and-sell websites, quoting a very nominal price, and by the end of the day, I had a dozen offers. Think I was lucky? Well, think again. Every one of these offers was a scam, asking me to courier the sofa and asking for my credit-card details to deposit the money

Since my attempts to sell had failed, I decided to offer the sofa free. Dear reader, I am sure, if this sofa had a soul, she would have been shattered. No one, yes, no one, took up this offer.

By this time, she had been shifted to the balcony to make way for the svelte new set I had ordered, and was wedged within its narrow confines, lying there on her side, a beauty in decline.

As a last resort, I called up the junk-collectors and paid them to remove the sofa.

Before you denounce me for ‘junking’ such a precious thing, let me say that these junk-collectors claim they restore and resell furniture. So I am at peace, knowing she has not ended up in one of those garbage heaps on the outskirts of the city.

Dear reader, I am sure you can see how and why I admire and respect anyone who sells — things, ideas, you name it. But why do I promote attachment? It is simple — attachment teaches us to treat things and people in the best way we possibly can, so important in today’s throwaway society.

Padmini Sankar is a Dubai-based writer and author. Twitter: @paddersatdubai