The Mundane Artist

We decided to meet at the beach. He was a few minutes late so I thought to set everything up. I called out to the sea. No reply. I was baffled. It usually answers my first call. I called to it again. No response. I was just about to call out again. But this time I was responded to. A sprinkle of water on my face. And I smiled. I asked it to rise by saying that one magical word: rise. That simple, isn't it? Communication. It is so important to communicate in any relationship. My relationship with water, therefore, was... simple. I call out to it in the easiest manner possible. And it shows. I walked closer to the water. I was rather slow to walk because I was zoned out thinking about what this majestic body would show me today. I reached the edge of the shore; where the water teases you but doesn't touch you. Finally, I had reached my destination. I took another step like the men on the moon. Lo and behold! The sea parted for me. It doesn't say much. But ...

She opened the tap at the basin and rinsed her hands. She pulled out a tissue paper and wiped her hands. As she did, she saw someone in the mirror. It was the reflection of her. That person she had wanted to see her for a long time. A wave of shock and surprise swept over her and she froze with the damp tissue paper still in her hand. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. "Close your mouth while you can.You do not want me to see you drool," the reflection talked. "Err.. sure," she said. "Do you know who I am?" asked the reflection. She didn't answer. For a few seconds, no one spoke. "Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, dead? "Oh I am," the reflection said dismissively. The girl squinted her eyes trying to find logic in the reflection's statement. "If I turn around, will you disappear?" the girl asked. "Why don't you try turning around?" the reflection asked back. "Bu...

There’s a door at the end of the corridor. It’s not dark. But only a part of the corridor is lit with lights. The other half is dark. I am standing at the other end. I am so curious. There are people coming and going occasionally. It doesn’t bother me though. I walk slowly. I have never been here before. There is a squash court downstairs. Two of the courts are being used. A girl of no more than 16 years, plays vigorously in the first court. She’s wearing a red shirt and track pants of black. This game makes a lot of noise, I think to myself. I don’t know much about it. It resembles tennis. But of course they’re different. Come to think of it, it’s actually the first time I have seen this game. I walk further. Before I can turn to see the occupants of the last court (as the second of the two was the last one in use), I get distracted. A drop of water falls behind me and makes a sound. I turn around and look at the small puddle of water I just passed unknowingly. I look up ...

I sat at a corner table. It was a decent bar. The lights were dim, and there was a low murmur of people talking, with the occasional uproar of laughter from the table on the other side of the room. I had a glass of beer. It was full. I had taken just one sip in the past 10 minutes. Maybe because of the book that was in front of me. A worn out leather-bound book. I know. Cliche. An uproar of laughter startled me. I didn't realize that I was staring at the book. I sighed, suddenly exhausted. I asked for the bill, paid money for the still full-one-sipped beer and left.  It was a dark night. I couldn't see the moon anywhere. The stars seemed to be shrouded with a black cloth. I don't know why but I usually look down and walk. It's a habit. I've been asked to change it by my family, my friends and my girlfriend. But I just rolled my eyes or shrugged it off with a "yeah." I turned to the left towards the bus station, but I was met by a wall. "Ouch. ...