The Thai Painter and Death

In Thailand once upon a time lived a painter. It sat from morning to evening in places where a lot of people came.

Wrapped in a great cloak, and with a hat against the sun, he sat there watching. He watched all the people in market squares, at fairs, in wine houses, in tea houses. When evening came, he went to his house and began to paint all the faces he had seen during the day: the faces of children, of old people, of rich people, of poor people, of thin people, of fat people. But only their faces. He had filled his whole house with faces, faces, and more faces.

One night he was painting in his house. While he was busy, there was a loud knock on the door.

"What the hell? Who could that be, in the middle of the night? I don't have an appointment at all. Hey, how annoying now!"

He walked to the door and opened it. A stranger stood before the threshold. He said in a stern tone: “Good evening, friend! I'm coming to get you!"

“Good evening… Are you coming to get me? But I don't have an appointment at all!"

“Ha! That's a nice joke! Look, when I come to get someone, he always comes with me. That has always been the case and will continue to be the case for some time to come.”

“But… then who are you?”

“I am Death!”

"Death? That must be a mistake. I feel perfectly healthy! By the way, I'm busy painting a portrait. I do not have time! I think you should be with the neighbours!"

Right in front of Death, the painter slammed the door shut. And grumbling, he walked back to his easel. "Ridiculous! What does Death think!”

Death stood outside and thought: That has never happened to me before. Let's see what the painter is doing.
Silently, he opened the door and crept inside. He tiptoed across the room until he was right behind the painter. Cautiously he looked over his shoulder. And what did Death see? A beautiful girl's portrait! The Death of his life had never seen such a beautiful portrait. Breathless, he stood looking at the painting that was created there, and he forgot about time.

All this time, no people died on earth…!
Suddenly Death realized what he had come for and said: “Now you really must come with me, friend!”

The painter, who hadn't noticed that Death was so close behind him, turned around in horror. “Man, what are you doing here! I'm almost scared to death! Do you ever want to get away!” And he pushed Death out of the room, into the street, and pointed to the sky. “Go to the Emperor of Heaven and say it is not convenient for me! I'm way too busy!"

Death, utterly stunned, ascended to Heaven. There sat the Emperor of Heaven high on his throne.

“Say Death,” said the Emperor indignantly, “where is that painter I told you to fetch?” Death looked up at the Emperor in embarrassment. “He uh… didn't have time, Lord,” he replied softly. "No time?? What nonsense is that! Would you like to go down quickly and fetch that painter immediately!”

So Death descended to earth with lightning speed and knocked hard and urgently on the painter's door. Angrily footsteps sounded and the door swung open. “What, is it you again, Death? Go away!" But now Death was unsympathetic. “No more talk! I get the biggest noise up there! You have to come now!”

Well, then the painter realized that there was nothing more to do. "Calm down! Just pack my things and then I'll come with you!" He began to pack all his painting supplies at his leisure. Rolls of tissue paper, blocks of paint, ink, brushes. "Say, is there anything else?" grumbled Death. "Calm! Inner peace, that's what it's all about! My mother used to always tell me that.” The painter lit a sacrificial candle. “Well… I'm ready. Shall we then?"

And together they ascended to heaven. The Emperor sat impatiently on his throne. “So, you're finally there. Where have you been all this time?"

The painter blew out his sacrificial candle, put down his things and spoke in a submissive voice: “Lord, I know that I will never be able to paint on earth again. That is why I have brought all my painting supplies with me, so that I can continue painting here.”

“Continue painting here? No way!"

“But Lord… you sit so high on your throne, with all those beautiful carpets around it that hang down to the floor. May I spread them a little and look under your throne?”

The painter carefully separated the carpets.

“No but… that's a nice space in there. Could I paint something there? I occasionally look outside through a crack and then I can work for hours again.”

"That's not happening!" said the Emperor of Heaven sternly.

“Lord… when I look around me… how big your heaven is…! Do you know what? Send me very far away! To a corner of your sky where you don't see me and no one bothers me! So that I can work through that a bit!”

The Emperor of Heaven shrugged and sighed. “Well… go ahead then!”

And what did the Emperor do? He sent the painter to the Spirit of Life. And there it is, to this day. There he paints the faces of the souls that will be born on earth. And if Thai women are pregnant, they sacrifice to that painter – in the hope that he will give their child a beautiful face…

Found and taken from the Folktales Almanac

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