Metaphor and Shit

I was 16 and stupid when Shit, the novel by Shahnon Ahmad came out. The school literature component was stupidly non-existent and I stupidly didn’t really know what metaphor is.

Albeit being that stupid at that time, I read chapters of the book. It sounded gross and disturbing especially when you are not in the position to appreciate metaphors.

But now, after ten years came to pass. I find the metaphor amazing.

A shit, a turd. Amazing metaphor.

Imagine the excrement/shit, the nasty business you did. The nature which with all you might want to keep it not in the open.

The earnest ones will flush down, let the reeking smell come to pass for a while, put on some nice smelling liquid and go out. These are the good people, who think about the person next in line. The people who care to keep the dumping/shitting ground comfortable to other people.

The nasty ones will save the tissue, save the water, save the effort to flush. Will go out hastily, satisfied. Don’t give a damn.

Will the nasty ones survive unscratched? Do you want them to leave rich and glorious with the excrements/shit they left for some other people to clean the nasty mess?

I hope, really hope, that they will pay for the excrements/shit they left unattended. I may not be the one to spread their nastiness, but hope that there is a great power above to show that nasty tyrant with nasty excrement/shit the way.

God has mercy!

And may all understand what ‘metaphor’ is. And it is enough for me if all can appreciate the fact that I’m talking about someone not flushing the toilet literally.

I Love Scandals

I think I am fully aware that I am surrounded by happy people now. Happy people who are becoming more and more domestic day by day.

And I should cherish them the way they are, right? But seriously, can I?

Can I entertain people who are thinking and strategizing about getting laid / married day in and day out? Can I continue to talk about scandals, about lonely people craving for a little dose of affections?

May be I shouldn’t. May be I should let them be, and continue to let them be. And I shouldn’t get involved with the mess of scandalous little things. May be I should pretend that I am so, so interested to listen about this guy or that guy. I should start pretending to save my ass from the horrid pathetic stricken lower order problems.

Next time, when somebody says ‘That lecturer slept with a student at Genting’. I would go ‘Yeah, I know. I heard he raped her. Even if it’s consensual, she’s underage anyway. Is she pregnant?’.

Wouldn’t it be so fun? To talk like that without regards of the world. I bet it’s hellish fun.

So, next time when you want to talk about the guy who slept with a girl or a boy or both (the more the merrier). Talk to me, I assure you the best answers for your satisfaction.