All Rights Reserved by the Author
15 September 2026
Every house has one chair that seems to have a life of its own.
Nobody officially owns it.
Yet somehow, everyone knows who usually sits there.
It may be the chair beside the window, the one with the best view. Or the old armchair that has survived several attempts to replace it.
It has probably heard arguments, celebrations, phone conversations and long periods of silence.
Perhaps someone once sat there every afternoon with a newspaper.
Perhaps children climbed onto it when they were small.
Perhaps a guest who came for tea twenty years ago left behind a story that is still occasionally remembered.
Furniture is strange that way.
We think we own it.
But after enough years, it becomes part of the history of the house.
Then one day, we move a chair to another room and the whole place feels slightly different.
Nothing important has changed.
And yet something has.
Maybe that is why old houses can feel alive.
Their walls have witnessed us growing older. Their doors have opened for people who mattered. Their corners have quietly held memories we never thought to preserve.
A chair is only a chair.
Until it becomes part of your life.
Then it is something else entirely.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: conversewithasmile
Email: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com
