Aab is fascinated with authority. He watches with fascination how human beings don the garb of their power and glory, and forget their individuality. He marvels at Creation that has made humans so equal that even the King and the Dictator have to visit the toilet as often as the commoner, that even golden plates and spoons cannot take away hunger but for a specified period. At times he wonders whether he is jealous of those who command awe and respectful fear from others. But he could not be, because he spurned every effort to acquire status, whenever it came his way. And it did come his way many a time. Aab has been nothing more than Aab. He never held a title, never moved in the regalia of the powerful. But he has rubbed shoulders with them, and has smelt them from close range. The odour is intoxicating, far more powerful than the best of wine. He has often visualized the high and mighty in their utterly naked form – shorn of their finery and ornaments. He has seen many of them being lowered into their graves, leaving behind everything that they owned, powerless to even prevent people from mixing them with dust, from lofty thrones all the way down six feet into the earth. Aab has also seen, in many decades of his existence, how the meek rise up to become mighty and forget their meekness; he has seen the mighty bite the dust and yet not learn a lesson from it. Aab often looks at dust and looks at man, and fails to notice any difference between them, except in their deeds.
