Aab

Aab sat on the sea shore.  The sun was setting on the horizon far beyond the vast expanse of the Arabian sea, gently lowering itself into a haze, shedding its scorching heat and blinding light, and willfully surrendering itself to becoming a mere spectacle for others to gaze at.  Giving up its power and glory was so easy for the mighty sun.

Aab was wondering why this puny creature called man, made of clay and bones, finds it so difficult to hand over his wealth and assets, which never were his in the first place.  The sun does not stake any claim over the sky or the ocean, it does not cling to its position of glory that it held at noon.  It seems to actually enjoy abdicating its power and fading away into oblivion – not even jealous of the tiny moon that takes up pride of place in the sky at night.

Perhaps man considers himself more powerful and indispensable than the sun.  Aab does not think so.  He knows that he is like the shifting sand on the beach, like the grass that grows, is cut, and gives way to barren earth – which again erupts with greenery in the next rains.

For generations men have watched the sunset, felt the high and low tides, left their footprints in the shifting sands – only to fade away.  Perhaps some have left behind some freshness, like the evening sea breeze – Aab gets up and walks away from the sunset, the sea ….. into the sea of humanity.

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