It is said that during the holy month of Ramadhan, all setans and iblises (devils) are tied to trees, allowing humans to live the month in total abdication to God. Unfortunately, one setan escaped it's bounds:
Yes, the ping pong table has caused much distraction to me in the last two weeks. Late nights have been spent in humble addiction to its unholy pull; its bewitching tempo…
There's nothing exceptional about the ping pong table at my dorm. If anything, it is an ugly wreck - its surface warped and twisted by rain and shine. Water damage has made the surface as pockmarked as my face after running out of face wash (yes, that bad)
Playing on the table once referred to as "the surface of the moon" by a friend of mine requires a whole lot of patience - and a whole lot of stamina too as the ball can easily fall into the drains located haphazardly beside the ping pong table.
But still I am smitten. And after playing 16 straight sets of ping pong with my roommate, Boboi (not his real name) - with Boboi winning 10 of those sets - it is absolutely necessary to question:
What do I love so much about ping pong?
I can't say for sure.
Or the mind-numbing pleasure of hitting an orange ball back and forth across a (non) flat surface?
The fact that your day's stress just drips away at the sound of the ball hitting the bat?
Or is it the trance-like feeling when the ball is heading towards you? When it seems like the whole world has stopped – and its just you, the bat and the ball?
I just don't know...
So, I shall now bring a stopwatch before I even step near the cursed table. And I shall be strong. Against the devil in disguise.