When Neel’s new sofa arrived, his family admired it for exactly six minutes. Then the monthly EMI reminder appeared, and everyone began treating the sofa like an unwanted tenant. It occupied the living room, demanded one payment each month, and never helped with chores.
Neel tried negotiating. “Could we pay less this month?” The bank app replied with a polite notification that had the emotional warmth of a parking ticket. His sister suggested charging the sofa rent. His father said the sofa could pay in cushions.
To make peace, Neel created a household agreement. The sofa would host movie night, support Dad’s afternoon naps, and stop attracting shopping catalogues. In return, the family would pay each EMI on time. The sofa accepted by remaining extremely comfortable.
A few months later, the family finally made the last payment. Neel announced that the sofa was officially debt-free. Dad stood up, shook its armrest, and said, “Congratulations. Now you can start saving for your replacement.”
The next morning, a furniture ad appeared on Neel’s phone: “Upgrade your comfort with easy monthly payments.” He showed it to the sofa. It creaked. The family agreed that the furniture company’s algorithm had been listening. They covered the sofa with a blanket and began a new emergency fund called Operation: No More Roommates.