Good person (Okkala) - If one day

( 1 )

Aung Maung has been unable to work for five days. His whole body aches and he can't do anything. He's also very hot. He has to go to the clinic for three days in a row.

It's a little better. It's not completely gone. I don't want to lose my head. But I can't go to the clinic anymore. I'm running out of money. I've been sweating and sweating with Saya Maung's red powder.

I'm staying at someone else's house. It's not someone else's, it's the house of the great teacher and writer U Aung Kha. It hasn't been very long. It's only been a little over a year.

Since Aung Maung arrived in Thaketay, U Aung Kha's situation has not been good. His pen is old. He can't write anymore. He can't find a market. He can only write short biographical novels and religious articles.

Not bad for his time and for his age. He was as successful as he deserved. He didn't reach the top, but he was able to survive.

Not so much anymore. I don't speak English well, so it's impossible to change the translation even a few lines. I'm also not good at writing essays on international affairs.

There are many children. Even five. Neither married nor students, no one is happy. U Aung Kha is happy with people and books.

Aung Maung and U Aung Kha became acquainted more than five years ago when an old book by U Aung Kha was reprinted at Aung Myebon Printing House.

At that time, Aung Maung was a novice typist at Aung Myay Printing House. He had changed three printing houses during his education. The same thing happened with private printing houses. He did not become a good person until he moved to another village. He did not receive the salary he deserved. Some of the printing houses did not even have regular jobs.

Now, after two years at Aung Myay Sa Printing House, I have moved to Shwe Padesa Printing House. I have advanced from a typographer to a foreman. In addition to my experience in the printing industry, I have also become quite familiar with the literary world. I have also made a lot of friends and colleagues.

Today, he is no longer working. The newspaper printing business is a chain of production. Without a foreman to fill in the forms, all the other workers cannot work. They no longer receive the forms. There are no more letters to sort.

It's the same when a printer comes in. It's the same when a proofreader comes in. If one chain breaks, everyone can't continue working. The letters are usually only four letters. The letters that are already typed are printed on the machine, and the letters that fall back are thrown back into the box and retyped. If one of them fails, the whole thing is lost.

George's printing house, which does invitations and general printing, doesn't have that many lead letters. The printer also prints with a small Chandler press.

In the large printing houses where Aung Maung and his colleagues type in the press, there is no limit to how many letters can be placed. The point size is also perfect. There are various sizes. From 12 point font to 3 lines. You can't even buy enough.

Especially the characters in the novel's names are very repetitive and often have too many letters. If you don't buy enough, you'll be confused. If you don't know the font, you won't understand. It won't work anymore.

That's why Aung Maung can't miss work today. He has entrusted his assistant, Maung Aye, with the task, but he can't be trusted. This guy isn't familiar yet.

It's not easy to drive in Thaketay. It's crowded. It's even worse because I live in a bad place. I'm drunk and

It's past eight in the morning. Usually, work starts at this time. The sound of the "Dable" and "Otleypain" machines is also muffled. Now everything is quiet. Maung Aye and the printing workers' group are not visible either.

U Badin is sitting at the owner's desk in the front room of the printing house. He looks unwell. "You've just appeared, Aung Maung."

It was like kicking the stomach when Aung-maung entered. U Badin reprimanded him.

"I'm not coming because I'm sick and can't get up."

"Just like you, you're a worker. If you've got food to eat, you won't have to work anymore."

“I’m not like that, I know, the Thudhamma magazine was closed on Saturday, the translated book by Saya Mya Than Tint was closed, and I had to work until dawn for days. I couldn’t get up anymore. But I left it with Maung Aye so that the work wouldn’t be lost.”

“Good, do you know what happened now?” “I don’t know.” “There are no more sixteen-point fonts.”

Aung Maung was in a state of shock. I don't know where he got sick. Sixteen-point typeface is the size most often used for modern novels and all internal texts. It is the most commonly used typeface. There are no less than four sets of typefaces at Shwepadesa Printing House. It costs more than five hundred pounds. Because they are missing.

“Yes, you guys stole.” “Did you catch it?” “I can’t watch the thief all the time.” “Then why are you so critical?”

“The novel Chim Mek Ma Kyaw written by Moe Makha is only three pages long. There is nothing left to edit. More than one page of the manuscript is missing. If the editors don’t steal it, who will?”

Aung Maung suddenly became a hero. I was not too wild on my side. I didn't want to be hurt by my own people, no matter what was wrong.

I've never heard of this kind of problem in the printing world before, and it's not

I've never been there. But lately, there's been a foul smell. I've heard voices. Out of this building, out of that building.

The price of lead is also good. Previously, it was three and a half kyats per letter, now it is over sixty. The price is different from yesterday and today. It hasn't stopped. It's still going up.

It's also easy to resell outside. Almost every bar and restaurant sells it, and you can also sell it to shops around 28th Street in Yangon. Some shops that make lead-acid batteries also buy it.

The price is very low, and they don't buy by the pound. They only buy by the pisas. They only pay ninety cents for one pisas. When they sell it back, they sell it by the pound. This is also their wisdom. The prices are extremely high.

Anyway, the seller is not bad either. It's free. So, the printing press is starting to make noises about missing letters.

"What's the point of you saying this without being specific?"

"What? You still want to deny it? It's the same at my friends' printing house on 32nd Street. The typesetters steal."

"Sir... don't insult me ​​without proof."

"I'm not accusing you here, I understand you. You're telling people what happened when you weren't there."

"What do you want to do?"

"I won't do anything to show you my face, you people have been kicked out, so find a new person."

"Sir... I won't do it in your house either, I'm leaving."

that's it"

2

Walking on tiptoe, I came to the old bookshelf of Aung Maung Pan Soo. I didn't really know. So I

It's not looking good yet. I don't know how to find his writing team, Maung Aye.

You can't just say no to these guys. You have to find them. You have to ask them clearly and speak up.

The world of press and printing is not small, but it is not large either. News of Shwepadesha Printing House will spread immediately in the world of printing, and the stench will be released immediately. There is no need to advertise. Maung Aye and his team will be known among every printing house.

So what will these guys do? Where will they do it? And because of them, the whole crew of typists will stink.

All five of them must want to be. One or two of them must want to be. They are in a food and drink crisis, which makes it worse. I can't say it's impossible.

These guys need to be thoroughly investigated. If you can't just talk about it, you need to ostracize the guys who should be ostracized. Or if you can't, you need to send the guys who should be sent to the police station. We need to clean up for everyone.

I met the translator, Myat Nyein, in the old book section of Pansodan. He asked me, looking around. He said that the health of your Shwepadesha Printing House is not good.

Now... how fast is the news? Saya Myat Nyein didn't want to ask directly, so he asked in a roundabout way. Aung Maung couldn't go to work for five days.

At the same time, Saya Myat Nyein informed me. Don't work in the outside buildings. The workers' newspaper needs typists, let's go.. Aung Maung nodded and continued walking. As usual, I don't just hang out with the great writers I meet on the street, I also invite them to teahouses and have them as guests. I don't want to talk much today. I don't feel well either physically or mentally.

No matter what, I always go to my beloved Malay Myaing's used bookshop. I miss her even when I'm lying in bed. I haven't seen her for five days.

Malay Myaing's mother went to collect old books, so there was only Malay Myaing at the old book shop under the Department of Commerce 1 office.

Malay Myaing's father died in prison. He was a politician and a writer. As usual. Poor. Four children.

I was left behind. Daw Mya Thin and her eldest daughter, Malay Myaing, are the ones who lead the business and sell used books. They are renting a house in North Okkalapa.

I don't know what's going on, as usual, Malay Myaing's face is not good.

No smile, no welcome. His face is dark.

"Good, you've lost your job, haven't you?"

Malay Myaing's welcoming speech was very touching. He doesn't pretend, he speaks openly.

It's surprising. Not only writers Myat Nyein and Lay Myaing know about Aung Maung's Shwe Padesha Printing House, but also Lay Myaing.

Aung Maung didn't say anything. He sat down next to Malay Myaing, looking past the old pictures in the book. He was also not as talkative as usual. He was not confident.

"It was my brother's friends who stole the letters, wasn't it? I will continue to be with these people for the rest of my life, and they will continue to bring me many benefits."

"Don't say everything in general, Malay, it's just one of the five."

"What, brother, does it still hurt when people touch you?"

“My brother and I worked together through thick and thin. We had a bond.” “That’s why my brother left.”

Aung Maung didn't answer, just nodded. "Good. Then I'll accompany my brother to the prison."

Malay Myint's face grew noticeably darker. He was filled with compassion and anger. He was unable to bear the pain and was unable to control himself.

"Don't look at my brother with those eyes, don't talk to me with that face, my dear."

"No... My brother is too attached to his friends."

"This is life, there is no hiding from evil. A bad foot, a bad thumb, a bad thumb, must be rejected."

“You know, brother, your reputation is ruined.” “I won’t move my head.” “Wait, what will you do now, brother?”

“Earlier, Saya Myat Nyein said that the Workers’ News Post Office needs some typewriters.”

"That's not bad, it's good, stable, and guaranteed."

"The salary is low, but there are a lot of my brother's friends and colleagues there, and they also go out and work both ways."

"Let me tell you Malay again, don't do it outside, sell old books like the Malays, it's no less than what you're getting now, it's not normal, you know all these lines too."

Aung Maung nodded. He thought for a moment and slowly shook his head. It wasn't just this time that Malay Myaing said this, it's been a long time.

"It's hard, Ma'am.. I can't give up my brother's job." "Why don't you dare do it like Ma'am?"

"You're very brave. My work is no less than yours, but I know how much you have sacrificed and paid for my work."

The one who went to Ngai was Malay Myaing. He knew. A successful man came to this life after years of being a common servant in the printing houses. He did not grow up and was not rich. He was attached to his life. .

"It's okay, brother. There's one thing, brother and sister won't be able to meet again, they'll have to stay far apart."