Twitching

"...and continued walking, twitching to the right. Josef K."
I am ashamed to say that whenever I think of Franz Kafka, one of my favourite writers, nothing but this sentence comes to my mind. The word "twitch" has been engraved in my brain for years, and although I don't know its meaning, I can only guess. If you ask anyone "What is the most important thing Kamuran Sipal has contributed to our literature?" you will get the answer "Kafka". Unfortunately, my answer would be "twitching". Isn't it sad that after so many books read with admiration, the only thing that remains in the mind is the verb "to twitch"? In this case, wouldn't our translator be one step ahead of the author?
Actually, it had been a long time since I got over this trauma of twitching when a friend of mine recently gave me Herman Hesse's Demian. On the cover of the book, "Translation: Kamuran Sipal" on the cover of the book, the words "now we are twitching" came out of my mouth. Anyway, keeping myself ready for all kinds of foreign words, I started and finished the novel. But I was only on the 5th page of the book when Sinclair, our main character, was already twitching. Aside from twitching, this time in the novel, he insistently wrote that there was a strong odour coming from the soil.
How was I going to see the acrid odour when I could barely digest the concept of twitching? Besides, there is nothing that can be understood by looking it up in the dictionary this time. At the most, I could understand if there was an explanation such as "bush: strawberry". While reading my book, I suddenly jumped up and said, "Today I have to live the life of Kamuran Sipal, only in this way can I smell a bushy odour" and started to move towards my room. After quickly putting on some clothes, I threw myself on the street and started to walk towards the lawn closest to my house. As I was walking left and right, I could not smell any unusual odour on the lawn I reached. Just then I came across a very strange sight.
A family was having a picnic in the middle of the lawn, hiding themselves under a sheet. It was as if they had set up their own privacy in a public place and did not want anyone to approach them. I couldn't stand it, so I approached them and peeked behind the sheet. I saw a thermos full of tea and a woman wearing a headscarf. Just then, the master of the house, who had noticed me, got up from his seat. In order to save myself from the situation, I said, "You have a very attractive wife, you are a very lucky man" with a trick I had learnt from the films. But this man was nothing like the husbands in the films. Before I could even finish my sentence, I was pinned to the ground by the impact of the punch (I think it was called a "labourer's punch", a punch with the inside of his hand, sloping from top to bottom) that he hit me in the face with a technique I had never seen before. As the blood flowed out of my nose and onto the ground, I suddenly began to smell an odour I had never smelled before. As soon as I looked into the man's eyes full of gratitude for introducing me to this fragrance, he thought that I still had not come to my senses and continued to beat me until I came to my senses. When I returned to my house, I was very happy that I was both smart and one step closer to Kamuran Sipal.