Ali & the Sunset

in Stories

Ali had prepared really hard for the race.

So, when the day came, he was certain of his victory.

Everyone was on his mark, ready to go, when the referee blew his whistle.

Others were no match to Ali’s speed.

Ali was way ahead of others. He touched the finish line at the end of the 200-metre track almost before anyone could blink.

He walked proudly to the stage to collect his trophy.

His competitors and many spectators wanted to shake hands with him, but he didn’t stop for them; he was too proud of his success.

After all, Ali, only 13, was now the youngest athlete in the town to have won the 200-metre race.

‘I don’t need to stop for anyone. I am way superior to them,’ Ali thought.

His father, Aziz, a farmer, was in the stands, watching his son display both his potential and ego.

That evening, Aziz was sitting quietly in his field.

Ali came looking for him.

“What are you doing here, father?” asked Ali.

“I am watching the sunset,” said Aziz.

“You see, my son, during the day, no one can dare look at the sun because of its brightness. But as the day starts to end, the same sun turns pale, and anyone can look it in the eye for hours and hours. The sun must not feel too proud of its brightness, for nothing is permanent; everything that sees a rise also has to see a fall.”

Ali understood what his father was trying to say.

“I am sorry, father. I will remember your advice. I will always be polite to everyone no matter whether I win or lose,” he said.

Aziz kissed Ali’s forehead, and they walked home holding hands.


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