Written by Branka Kurtz
Let me tell you a story. A quite simple story, with no message nor hidden meaning, a fairy tale …
Once upon a time, in a far distant land, beyond the seven seas and seven mountains, Yvo was born. He was a seemingly ordinary boy. In the beginning, everything was beautiful. Yvo was playing with other children, chasing roes and deer, helping parents and living this idyllic fabulous dream. But, one day, Yvo was following a butterfly with magnificent blue wings, and wandered a little deeper into the forest. He did not despair, but he continued to move forward! Realising that he was lost, he started in panic to look for any way out from this repugnant situation. And then he saw it…
In the shade of an oak tree, near his feet, there was a notebook. Unlike most of the people from his village, Yvo was literate, and, lifting it from the ground, he read aloud: “Politics”. Although
this was the first time he heard about it, the title seemed so strangely attractive to him, and he decided to keep it. Years were passing, and even little Yvo was getting older. He never said anything to anyone about the book, but he read it constantly. Over time, he learned many interesting things from it. First, all started from the work. With the goal to improve the life in the village, he bravely accepted the burden of organising the work. And so, while others were working, Yvo managed their duties … from his bed. Soon his bed became too small for inventing obligations.
Therefore, he agreed with the inhabitants, to take only a small portion of the fruits of their work in order to provide a quality administration well deserved by an honest people like them. He called it a tax. As time went on, Yvo was trying more and more to help people. In fact, his engagement was so useful, that he decided to relieve the people of this unnecessary suffering, such as their rights and opportunities to vote. What is one more stone to Sisyphus? However, this great Philanthropist and Altruist said generously that if the people do not like his reign, let them vote, and he will resign immediately. But he was not much concerned, because he had a whole legion of people posthumously politically defined behind his back.
Years passed by, and Yvo – he was like fine wine. Nothing was missing in his life. When winter came, he unreservedly shared tips on how to share a blanket, even though his feet were always in the warm. And a Nation is like all other nations, so much digging and hard work tired them, so they had no time to thing about justice, well they will somehow have to manage.
I have to admit that I forgot the end of the story, but probably it was a happy ending. I think further you can continue alone. However they teach us from childhood that all have a happy ending … I do not know.