Chair Cheers

Do we always use this wooden or metal instrument called chair to sit? Rather we use it for other purposes, may be for standing on it to peek up at the tube light’s choke, or to hammer a pin high on the wall for a picture, or some of the aggressive us use chairs to bang them on glass tables, or hit innocent people or rivals with them. Some little girls also use chairs as the multistoried building for their Barbies!

What I did as a kid was even more unconventional! Of course there isn’t a doubt that my activities left a mark on me and others around. Literally. I have always had a hunger for adventure deep within me, but no one could sense from which side the attack could appear! I would sit and stand under the dining table as long as my height permitted, and play games underneath, imagining it to be a cave or a tiny shoe house or other such products of fantasy. I had an annoying habit, as my mom would term it, to hang on the back of people’s chairs. Now I cannot recall what happiness or adventure that activity provided me, but I remember very well what happened to stop my hanging from the back of people’s chairs!  One fine evening when my family was seated around the table for tea, I galloped into the room and wondering what to do next, jumped onto the back of my mom’s chair. The chairs were wooden and quite heavy, and as usual I clung at the back of the chair and started swinging to and fro rhythmically, without mom having noticed it. Once she had finished her tea, she got up from the chair and I still hanging, fell flat on my back. My head was the first thing to touch the ground with a bang and then my whole body. I fell with a massive thud… Wait the story doesn’t end here; I had the heavy wooden chair bury me under it! I felt like I was Tom who had just been squashed flat like a paper by a huge piano smashing on him! For a moment everyone in the room stood like a statue, since no one had noticed me enter the room or swing behind the chair, and my sudden fall had scared the hell out of me to even make me cry! Mom said I never tried that adventure game again.

Several years later, I had a tiny friend downstairs in our building; the only friend may be at that time in the whole locality. She was quite a lot younger than me, and everyday coming back from school I would go to visit her. I wouldn’t do much, other than  helping her gather her toys or letting her sit on my lap or telling her stories she never understood and hearing her stories which I never understood. On one such visit, she was very restless and was going about pulling things from everywhere. On the go she pulled a chair from the back, nothing happened. She tried again, but in vain. Then with all her might and both her hands she pulled it from the back, and notwithstanding the weight of the chair her hands gave away. She kneeled down, with her hands up holding the chair, and finally she let herself be buried by the chair. Then she let out a panicky cry.

I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically, for a couple of minutes, while all of us where trying to recover her from under the chair. I was suddenly reminded of my own chair incident.

Just a few days ago, I discovered some photographs of genius activities around the world and guess what, a chair had to be there. Someone had a scooped up sofa, and the person had inserted chairs in between the seat and the back rest! My heart yelled out, that’s called a Chair cheers! Well if you are wondering what that means, I would rather suggest you to stop thinking, because even I don’t know why I said that.


4 comments on “Chair Cheers

  1. Lahari, another good job..keep writing like this..and this time, it is real fun to read your ‘chair cheers’..and, i’m astonished to see your choice of topic..i mean, who would think of writing about his/her chair experiences..well done, girl. my best wishes r always with you.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s