The Autobiography Of PM's Chair

“Old age, believe me, is a good and pleasant thing. It is true you are gently shouldered off the stage, but then you are given such a comfortable front stall as spectator."

-          Confucius

Looking at the luxuriant tree through the window of my four walled house, is a retrospective of my childhood. My humble abode, by no means, would suggest that my tryst with destiny has seen many-a-things which are unprecedented amongst my kind. I would be bold enough to say that none of my origin would have the opportunity to experience what I have. I am, indeed, engraved as the first legend in the history books of my breed. To slake the thought of me being high headed, I would like to narrate to you of my modest beginnings.

I was a born as a drop in the bucket; a small fragment of the cosmos which surrounded me - A bud, a twig and a branch of the tree. Accustomed to hold other’s weight from a very young age, I have bared the burden of leaves, nests and squirrels running over my flesh and bones. Life seemed only to intensify from there. I reckon sometimes that it was like everything else in the world – the weight I bore, was a small part of something big which would bestow upon me, soon.

It’s a funny thing that I cannot explain as to why I was the one to be fallen.  Amongst the 3,45,000 acres of Sundarban woodland, the soil where I was rooted, was ploughed through. I fell on my face and lost consciousness. That’s not the only thing I lost, I lost my home, myself and my identity.     

“We know what we are, but not what we may be.”
― William Shakespeare

I knew what I was, but not what I would be once I opened my eyes. When I did, I was still who I was, but rearranged and disfigured to fit dimensions of humans. It was the physicality that was altered, the mind was not yet, but nobody escapes the paradoxes of the world beyond our imagination.  There is light, and there is darkness, there is dawn and there is dusk, and then there are shadows and penumbra which exists through it – inculcating the extremes within them.  I was myself, yet, not myself. This was just the beginning of my transformation.
I was taught the nuances of co-existing with beings, who could speak, walk, hear and had a mind of their own. We were subjects of their disposition. My mind refused to pass a verdict on how I felt about them, on one side I despised their motives which always had a hint of self-benefit, however, I could not complain about the polishes I received more often than the other chairs. Why did this happen? I didn’t know. Men and women of different ages would peak in from the display window of “Royal Furniture” (as told by my fellow chair, who noticed the fascia of the shop while being imported from Kashmir) would admire and call me - ‘the chosen one’.   I didn’t know for what I was chosen, or why I was taken care of so much while dust caressed the other chairs. Apparently they had lived long enough with humans to contract their egotism. They were jealous; envy made them rusty, as they stared at me for long hours and pierced me within their minds with obscenities. They refused to move when time would require and would fall apart with their insides corrupt and hollow with rust. Many a chairs succumbed to this conflict within themselves, failing to defeat the ego within them. They became device to their own fate, destroyed themselves without realizing it.   

“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter”
― John Keats

The revelation that I was ‘chosen’ to be the Prime Minister’s chair took place only when I saw the entrance of Prime Minister’s Office while being offloaded from a truck, wrapped in the ceremonious plastic sheets. The day abides in my mind as clear as daylight. It was 15^th August 1947, and Bharat was celebrating its glorious freedom for which it had so long fought for. The grandeur and majestic celebrations took place. The smiles and joy were genuine, heartfelt and pure. It was just as I had envisioned it back in the forests when the birds chirped about it while perching on my branches. I sat there, looking around the humongous room with the carpet beneath my legs. Then I met her, her curves broad and breath-taking. She was asleep while they carried her, and they placed her near me. Little did the movers know, they had placed her in my heart. Apparently, the movers were famous for their services, and why not! They had been chosen to move in the furniture in PMO! But apart from that, I say so because ever since they kept her with me, we have been together, sticking through the rough times when the Prime ministers threw tantrums or when someone is fired from their job. It’s saddening to see some of the things that take place within the room- Corruption and Welfare, Power and Modesty, Dirty Games and Mending Actions. 
Over the years I have borne the burden of the nation on my shoulders. I have seen men turn from honest to greedy, turn towards wealth, fame and lust. I have seen the name on place cards change over the years with the familiar faces of the prime ministers, framed and mounted on the wall. From Jawahar Lal Nehru to Manmohan Singh, The generations of Indian congress passing the crown, the linage has finally broken with Narendra Modi rising up to the occasion. Speculation has it, that it could be a new era for the development of India which has been stagnant for years now. I am all too familiar to the phrase “new era”, if you ask me, it is the most overused and abused phrase in human history. The humans of India shall hope that this time around it is no hoax.
After 67 years of being in the prime minister’s office, I have seen it all. I would say there is no place else where you would be able to see human nature so clearly as this. The bounds till which a human would go truly reflects when you can do things anonymously through somebody else, it is the real reflection of how the human psychology works.
I was merely 20 when I was first brought here, now I am 87, at the dawn of my life, kept in a storage room with my wife. I see the young tree outside the window with its ruffling leafy hair. I have seen him grow up from a seed to a sapling, from a sapling to a tree, enjoying its freedom in the laps of nature.

I wonder how my life would have been had I not been the chosen one. I am getting older, and the older I get the stronger these desires get. Perhaps, I will take rebirth in the same land which created me and live the life I had never lived. As the sun sets, so does my desires, and so does this memoir.