Reserved for Me

We all have our favourites: a restaurant, a type of cuisine, a movie or a character. I’m not a diehard sitcom enthusiast — I watch them occasionally and only if they amuse me. Initially, this was why I followed The Big Bang Theory, but then I came to realize that I had something in common with one of its lead characters, Sheldon Cooper.

No, it’s not the Obsessive-compulsive or Schizoid personality disorder. Sheldon and I are bound by our need to occupy one favoured spot in the house. In the show, there’s a scene in which the parallel lead, Howard Wolowitz, reproves Sheldon for guarding his seat too aggressively. His response, “I love my mother. My feelings for my spot are much greater.” Though I wouldn’t go as far, this line really resonated with me.

Just as the left corner of the leather sofa is Sheldon’s, mine is a single-seater aligned along the window. He justifies his choice by calling it, “The singular location in space around which revolves my entire universe.” My reason is two-fold: the view of the lush foliage outside and the cool breeze that wafts inside. This spot has become an important part of my daily routine. It’s the place where I enjoy my morning cuppa as I browse through the day’s news. It’s also my reading corner. I have often drifted off peacefully while lounging on it, my unfinished book forgotten. I make a beeline for it when I’m about to have a long telephonic conversation or when I want to lose myself in the melodies of my favourite tunes. It’s more warm hug, less chair, when I’m glum or upset. And of course, it’s the perfect perch when I want to tune into Sheldon and his nuttiness.

This may be an ordinary chair to the rest, but to me it’s a kingdom that needs to be fiercely protected. Unlike my idol, who shrieks “You’re in my spot,” I don’t shoo away those who try and occupy mine. A nasty glance at the offender is enough. My folks suggest that I should have my initials engraved onto the chair since I don’t want it taken away. During the monsoons, all the seating, except this one is clad with slipcovers — the veiled look just isn’t conducive to cuddling.

To be honest, my chair is not the only lounging spot in the house; there are others with their unique attractions. The window sill, for instance, offers a breathtaking view of colourful spring blossoms. The desk in my room is where I head to when I need to buckle down and work, but the queen-sized bed in my parents’ room only inspires sleeping. The dining area sees a lot of family bonding over hot meals and incessant chatter. But the chair reigns supreme. Between you and I, there was a time where I very nearly strayed away from my loyalty. A leather-clad recliner was introduced to our home, and I tried absorbing its ‘new’ feel. I was up in a few seconds! Despite the comfort it offered, it was nowhere near my favourite. Needless to say, that was the last slip-up. Now, like Sheldon, my spot remains the centre of my universe. I may perch on various seats, but I know I am not going to be there for long.