MY METAPHOR FOR LITERATURE.

    •  Literature as a River 

During my B.A. years, literature felt like a river constantly flowing through my academic and personal life, shaping my thoughts, and connecting me to voices across time and space. Just as a river carves the land it touches, literature molded my perspectives, deepening my understanding of human emotions, society, and culture. Each book I encountered was like a tributary, adding new currents of knowledge and insight to my intellectual journey. Whether it was the poetic depth of Wordsworth, the existential struggles in Kafka’s works, or the sharp social critiques in Orwell’s novels, every text influenced the landscape of my mind. Literature also acted as a bridge between generations, allowing me to engage with the thoughts of writers from different centuries. The struggles of Shakespearean characters, the rebellion of Romantic poets, and the postcolonial voices of writers like Chinua Achebe and Arundhati Roy made me realize that literature is not just about storytelling it is a conversation across time.

There were moments when literature was a calm stream, offering solace during the overwhelming phases of academic pressure. Reading the reflective verses of Keats or the philosophical musings of Camus provided me with a sense of peace, much like sitting by a quiet riverside. But literature was also turbulent waters challenging my beliefs, unsettling my assumptions, and making me confront uncomfortable realities. Whether it was grappling with feminist readings of Jane Eyre or dissecting the colonial undertones in Heart of Darkness, literature often pushed me into intellectual rapids, forcing me to think critically and question deeply. However, as my undergraduate years progressed, I realized that literature, like a river, has no final destination it is an ongoing journey. Each book, discussion, and essay was not an endpoint but a stepping stone to deeper understanding.

Moving into my M.A. years, the river of literature widened and deepened, demanding a more profound engagement with texts. If my B.A. experience was about recognizing literature’s currents, my M.A. years were about learning to navigate them skillfully. The study of literary theory introduced me to new lenses of interpretation Marxism, Feminism, Deconstruction each acting like different streams converging into my broader understanding of literature. Reading Derrida and Foucault reshaped my perception of language and power, while authors like Toni Morrison and J.M. Coetzee forced me to reconsider historical narratives and marginalized voices. At this stage, literature was no longer just about appreciating stories; it became an intellectual and ethical pursuit, challenging me to rethink identity, history, and truth.

Literature also became more of a dialogue during my M.A. studies. In seminars and research discussions, I no longer approached texts passively but actively questioned and debated interpretations. Writing research papers felt like swimming against strong currents, requiring patience, rigor, and resilience. The river of literature was no longer just flowing past me I was now navigating it with purpose, exploring its depths through my own critical arguments and perspectives. While my B.A. years were about discovering literature’s beauty, my M.A. experience was about understanding its power how literature constructs meaning, influences ideologies, and shapes the way we perceive the world.

Even after completing my M.A., the river of literature continues to flow, carrying me toward new ideas, new perspectives, and an ever-expanding horizon of knowledge. Whether I revisit the familiar shores of classic literature or venture into unexplored waters of contemporary theory, the journey never truly ends. Literature remains a force of movement and transformation, constantly shaping my thoughts and intellectual pursuits, much like a river that never ceases to flow.