An ode to the lazy trap

It is comfy, it is soft and it makes you sink just the right amount into its lap. It feels so cozy that you could almost wrap it around you on chilly nights had it been a blanket. But it is not. It is a sofa and a darn good one at that. It is very simple-looking, made of a uniform off-white fabric and only borrowing some color from cushions decorating it at each end. But what it lacks in appearance, it makes up for in the services it offers.

Home after a long day’s work, it entices you to relax on it and once you do so, invisible hands arise from it to fasten themselves around you, to hold you tight, whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, promising to turn you into a couch-potato in front of the television.

After a hard workout at the gym, it makes you lean back on it supporting your happy exhausted body as you feel the muscles in your limbs begin to relax and snap back into their original shapes like pieces of springs.

It stands in front of the patio windows looking out at the blue skies, the green trees, the scampering squirrels outside and daydreams with you, making your mind wander and fly to far away places and people.

On a lazy afternoon, it encourages you to loll around on it on your back, legs stretched out along its length, as you go deeper and deeper into that engaging book you are reading and enjoying as much as the surface you are lying on.

As the clock ticks away into late night, it tempts you to spread your yawning self over it, turning itself into a temporary bed and gently pushing you forward into deep sleep.

Such is the lazy trap that sits in the living room, exerting magnetic pulls on you when you should be busy doing some work. So, finally you surrender and sit on it. Then after some time when you have to fight to get up from your too-comfortable seat and you laughingly say, “Help! I can’t get up. I’m stuck with some kind of glue to this sofa!”, you may or may not be joking.

Sofa

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About Dancing Fingers Singing Keypad

This blogger is someone whose fingers itch to dance, coaxing the keypad to sing. For years, I kept saying that writing for me was a mere hobby. And then, just like the lead characters of a typical romantic movie it finally dawned upon me just how much I love this form of art and how I simply cannot live without it. And then we lived happily ever after ... or tried to, for isn't there the following saying? “Writing is torture. Not writing is torture. The only thing that feels good is having written." Originally from India, I reside in California, USA with my husband and little daughter and work as a software engineer. (I’ve got to be practical, the aforementioned love of my life doesn’t pay for food yet and it doesn’t hurt that I enjoy computer programming.) With the title loosely inspired by the Oscar-winning Chinese film “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon“, this blog, “Dancing Fingers, Singing Keypad” welcomes viewers …err… readers to savor the performances of its “characters”.
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