The Lover of Greece

“I was a smart person in the past. But now, it is all gone. I am just all rubbish.”—the young woman said to her neighbour. Her neighbour was a blind old lady. “You love Greece.”—the old lady remarked. The young one with the expectation of the obvious, the consolatory paraphrase of some old cliché, started with the remark of the lady. She could not utter any expression other than a piece --“What?”

“You love Greece.”—the old lady who was blind, but doesn’t seem blind now, smirked and held an open challenge for the young blood: not very common with a blind woman who is supposed to live on others mercy and kindness to play the smart. The young blood got heated, and wanted a reproach but it was wise too, so decided to remain calm. The girl asked—“what do you mean I love Greece? I am born and brought up in India, and I have never been to Greece, ever.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of Greece?”—asked the old lady. “Yea, I have heard of Greece, but I know Greece more for its ancient civilization, like ours, in the Indus valley civilization.”

“That is the reason why I said you love Greece; and not just Greece for that matter, but any other ancient civilization, which stand in the present day on its relics, ruined cupolas and immortal fame from the past, known more or less by the wealth of their ancient name. And not just you, dear little girl, every one who discards their present, the chances they are offered, and the moments of immense possibilities existing only in their present, are all the ‘Lovers of Greece’. Let me tell you one more thing: there is nothing bad in loving Greece. It just means you are a bad connoisseur, who doesn’t know anything about how to appreciate the present of that great nation, and lessons it teaches the world.