the sultan

There was this beautiful young sultan that wanted to own all the sand in the world. So with his father’s inheritance, he started buying beaches and oceans- slowly accumulating a great deal of land.  He would spend all day roaming his secluded beaches only stopping to build sand castles.  He loved his time on the beach. He was able to dream.  He could vision bigger, grandeur castles with moats and secret tunnels and bridges.  He studied the tides to tell just how far the ocean would swell and build his castles just out of harms way. As time lapsed he acquired more beaches and built more sandcastles.  The beaches became littered with his creations- each on carefully thought-out and acutely different from the last.  He was very particular about his obsession and soon began enforcing barriers to make certain no one would tamper with his majesties. He once caught a young peasant wandering one of his beaches off the coast of Morocco, and not to go into detail, he made the child permanently aware that he had been somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

He began losing sleep over his desire to own every beach in the world. He even started tricking and scamming people off their land. He started purchasing entire islands, filled with children, husbands, wives and all sorts of workers: chefs, builders, seamstresses and craftsmen.  He kicked everyone out of their homes- giving them sparse time to collect their belongings. He had small vessels that he crammed the inhabitants on, and shipped them to mainland.  Within the snap of his fingers, islands were empty- leaving him in a paradise to create at peace.

One night while sleeping, he had a vision.  He could take advantage of the builders and craftsmen to design elaborate castles, and he could have the chefs cook for the builders when they themselves weren’t building.  The he thought, that would give him more time to acquire more land and further his impetus on covering the world with his majestic sand castles. So into action he steamrolled.

Islands filled with simple happy souls at work and play were in for drastic changes.  No longer free to roam they had to meet quotas of sandcastles built and to enforce this the sultan arranged a hierarchy of inhabitants- giving leniency and tolerance to those in charge of keeping order.

Sandcastles began clustering up all along the beachside, often measuring 3-4 stories in height and some only mere feet from each other.  The sultan was now hard at work purchasing new land, breaking down the individuals, and positioning those in charge- that he was spending more behind the scenes of the operation- but his life was going to fast to acknowledge.

And with an almost fairytale ending, the sultan had finally bought all the sand in the world.  It had taken him 46 years but he had completed his lifelong dream.  The sultan now in his 60’s, had aged almost double from the toll and pressure of running across the globe; constantly searching, fighting, stripping, rebuilding and conquering those in his favour.

Now 62 and not the beautiful young sultan he once had been- finally had time to sit and enjoy his lifelong achievement.

He began his journey to embark on his masterpieces- stopping in the west indies to gaze at his beauties. Boarding ship after ship he basked in the greatness of all his castles meticulously jutting from the earth in perfect unison.  He shipped to every corner of the globe, in South East Asia, Europe, The Americas and he eventually made it back to his birthplace.

He had not been back in over 40 years and he had a hard time fighting for a memory.

As he walked around his timeless home, he made his way to the veranda that overlooked the Mediterranean.  With each step he took he began getting powerful sensations.  It was his memory finally catching up to him.  He got closer- step after step until he was entrenched in a dream.

The young sultan hung over the balcony- eyes fixed on the calmness of the ocean that day-and as he stared a reflection appeared.

‘It was the upper torso of this monstrous castle his father had created with a team of designers and personal friends.  And it was with this vision that the young sultan ran down his whirling concrete steps to the infinite grains of sparkling white sand. And as he dug his hands past the sun-baked exterior, the coolness from within brought his body to life.  Each day after his studies he would rush to the sea’s limits and with outstretched arms and his white satin sleeves rolled up past his elbows he would get lost in the sheer depths of it all.’

Waking, shaken from his dream- his body lay sullen among the white sanded beach and

legend has it that the aged sultan began to cry. He cried for spending a life devoted to selfishness. He cried for ruining the lives of those forced to pursue his dream. He cried for losing site of his childhood dream. He cried because he was alone.

And it is said that the sultan shed one tear for every single grain of sand that he had owned- and it was these same tears that washed away all his castles- all but one on each of his beaches. And if you are lucky you may be able to spot that lone castle remaining, and it is said that it will speak to your soul and warn you never to lose site of your youth.