Sunday, May 31, 2009 12
Dramatic Ant-eulogy
Scene: Inside our bathroom
I was lounging in the loo for my usual 'call of nature' thing, flipping an old magazine which I've already read ten times (there are people who smoke inside the loo while poo-ing; I read. Okay. I smoke and read.) when I suddenly noticed an ant floating in the pail filled with water.
Seemed lifeless.
(I heart ants. I thought they're the most self-sufficient, industrious, humble creation of God).
I scooped it with my finger and daintily laid its body on top of the white sink. It moved. It's alive!
Limping, the ant crawled. One foot at a time. I can't see whether it's drying itself or it's painfully twitching its body. How was I to know?
All of a sudden, I felt a surge of pity for the ant. Nowhere in our two square meter bathroom do I see any other ants. For an ant, our small bathroom could already be its whole world! Even if he makes it limping, who'd take care of him. Where's his family? And why am I suddenly calling the ant a 'he'?
For a few sec, I thought of playing God and lynch the ant to death. Euthanasia.
But I thought, maybe there's a bigger reason why I saved him. Maybe God has a reason why He made me save the ant. Maybe the ant is destined to become the leader of all ants living in the vast expanse of our bathroom.
The sad part is I will never know. Ever. Because as soon as I finished poo-ing, the ant was gone. Maybe it committed suicide and jumped from the sink to the floor.
I looked. It's not on the floor.
Maybe God gave the ant its wings and it flew while I'm hosing myself.
Maybe the ant assumed in ant's heaven.
Or maybe the ant was just my imagination.
I soaped my hands. I brushed my teeth. And before I turned off the bathroom lights, I muttered a silent prayer: God, if you're going to make me an ant in my next life, let me not be a bathroom ant.