The chair I sat on.
It’s in 4iiiPCA I was in third year of the four year programme. As a freshly experienced teacher I was back from my teaching practice and it’s the first day to the college after the TP. Me and my friend Haki went to our classroom and selected the chair. We were the firstperson in the class. She selected a freshly painted yellow chair where as I haven’t looked at the chair instead took one from the corner and sat on it. After several minutes all of my friends entered the classroom everyone was searching for a comfortable and ease chair. I was shocked why am I not going for comforts? Why have I chosen this without any notice? Then I stared at the chair which I was sitting on. The chair was similar with the ones that my friends took.
I wondered why my friends were quarrelling for a single simple chair. I stood up and looked around. More than half of my friends didn’t get the chair. I said one can have mines. Someone took it from me. Quickly I went to Dzongkha B.Ed and asked for one chair from their class placed in my previous sit and sat on the chair.
The chair seems like my fan I have seen my friends writing their names on the chair then I too started autographing on the chair and felt as if like a celebrity giving autograph to her/his fans. It was freshly painted with yellowish color. But I have made a mess on that beautifully painted chair. Never did it happen to lose its patience in holding me. It served its service for whole autumn semester being a great fan of mines. Sometimes have to take over the loaded baggy which I used to hang from its back stand. Sometimes I used to lean without mercy on its back stand. Sometimes I used to sit on its back stand with my foot on the flat usually where we sit. Sometimes out of guilt I used to clean the top flat with my handkerchief, sometimes with firm papers and tissue papers. It did a marvelous job without minding to hold the heaviest sitter too. It comforted its pleasure to make me happy for four months bearing with my silly acts and nonsense sense. It’s only the consoler to drip down my stress I used to bang and drag it hard but never did it yelled somehow it creeps little when its over the limit.
It really had done a tiring job for me but never did I get chance to pay back my gratitude rather all I can see nowadays on this chair is my autograph which I have imitated it from my dear friends and autographed on its back…just a simple memory unless a freshly paint would cover up its mess which I had made.