San San Nwe (Tharawaddy) - News and more

News (1)

“Have you written my latest news yet?” My eyes widened at the unexpected question. I felt the teacher, Daw Khin Myo Chit, who had been lightly gripping my fingertips, tighten her grip.

"Hey... try, tell me. I'm asking. Have you finished writing my latest news?"

Aunt Daw Khin Myo Chit's personality is just like that. She is quick-tempered, quick-witted, intelligent, and always quick to solve a problem. Even if we are being stubborn, she is not impatient.

Being scolded like this made me decide with my eyes closed how to respond.

“I wrote it... I wrote it, Auntie, it's ready.” “Okay... good, then you're a good journalist. The deadline is still a long way off, Auntie. Don't discuss this. If you answer me, you're a weak person. Okay... okay, it's ready, you hear? Leave the date and time blank. Okay?”

I felt "sorry". The teacher sitting next to me, "San Tyu Maung", was so teary-eyed that he hid his face with his hands and quickly got up to leave.

I was also desperately thinking of something to break out of this situation.

At the end of the day, the audience at the charity event was eating, drinking, talking, and enjoying themselves.

It was a donation ceremony for the ordination of their grandson, Maung Maung Win (son of Dr. Khin Maung Win and Daw Khin Nyunt Yi), by U Khin Maung Lat and Daw Khin Myo Chit. They invited a few relatives and friends to a large banquet hall at the Sun Lun Gu Yeiktha Monastery in Taung Okkalapa and served alms.

Although it was a small donation, “Shwe La Min” treated over a hundred fans to butter rice.

Aunt Daw Khin Myo Chit, who used to roam around the audience wearing Kachin long-sleeved and golden-colored clothes and smiling brightly at the Htamanai festival last year, can now lie down comfortably on a bed in a suitable place, thanks to a donation.

Since we can no longer receive guests as we used to, the guests come to the bed where Aunty is lying to greet her. They encourage her. They offer offerings.

The charity event had a small audience from the literary world. Auntie's health probably prevented her from inviting everyone.

It was a special event where we saw a full complement of our former political colleagues, U Khin Maung Latt and Aunty.

I have been seeing the writer Thakin Aung Gyi, whom we call General Aung Gyi, for a long time. The General (who has been called that since our journalistic days) is donating dessert. The writer (Daw) Ma Myat Lay also contributed dessert merit.

The sponsors of this donation event for the monks and nuns, Dr. Khin Maung Win and Daw Khin Nyunt Yi, were the family of former captain Daw Hla Than (Dai Khin Khin Ma Hla Than).

When it was time to listen to the water drop sermon, Aunty was getting ready to go to the almshouse where she would listen to the sermon. She could not walk, so she had to be carried. Bo Nyi Pu (78 years old), who was carrying Aunty, who was 73 years old, was also ready to help. But Baba stopped her. When he said, “This is where I will focus my attention,” Aunty obeyed. “Yes... yes,” she said, and fell back on the bed, falling asleep. Although Aunty was always with Ma Phyu, who was taking care of her, I also decided to wait for Aunty.

My wife and I are survived by our very dear aunt, Thakin Ohn Myint (Progress Ohn Myint).

A person named Thakin Ohn Myint recently reported on a letter written by General Aung San in the “Sanpae Phyu Magazine”.

Waiting next to my aunt, I was able to take note of the ancient relics. The old man, who was over 70 years old, was surprisingly light and agile in jeans, walking shoes, a bag, and reading glasses tied around his neck with a string.

He is a person who strives to the best of his ability with a sincere desire to accurately record history, to leave behind a precise and solid record.

“I know everything about how many people worked, held, stayed, and sat at General Aung San’s house. Ask me.”

Auntie, who was dazed on the edge of the bed, began to stir.

“Ko Lat and my sister know very well how socialism and the Socialist Party first emerged in Burma. Ask them.”

Aunty held out her arms. She slowly adjusted her posture and sat down.

“Why do you want to bring up the past so much, Thakin Ohn Myint?”

What does Auntie mean? Although I can't grasp it, I see a "light" in Auntie's eyes. A "light" that can clearly see the past that I have lived through with confidence.

That "light" that temporarily washes away the signs of aging and illness carries a kind of charm.

I was reminded of a speech by Ruskin (translated by Mya Than Tint).

A woman's face is at its most beautiful when she recalls a pleasant and fruitful past.

Aunty would join in with Mr. Ohn Myint, who was explaining the colonial revolution and the underground revolution in detail, while he was explaining the past in detail. Since he couldn't say much, he would say one or two words at a time, and then, after he had finished speaking, Aunty, who was often exhausted, would be tricked into changing the subject and lying down on the bed.

“Well... I first encountered this Dhamma here thirty years ago. It was thanks to the grace of the monk Bo Thein Swe,” he said, raising his hands and looking towards the benefactor.

It was at the Sun Lun monastery where he began practicing Vipassana meditation that he ordained his grandson as a monk.

My grandson, Maung Maung Win, a student at the Institute of Technology, is now ordained as “U Yanya Wunsa.” Dr. Khin Maung Win, the first monk, will also be officially ordained for ten days with his son, the first monk.

While concentrating on charity, moral virtue, and meditation, Auntie extended her hand. I still held it tightly.

"You...be a good journalist. Don't cry, don't laugh, see the truth. Record accurately and write the news. Do you hear?" I didn't want to hear it, but I had to answer "yes."

“In foreign countries, big newspapers have basements. They keep brief notes on the deaths of famous people. They only leave the date and time blank for the latest news. The basement where these records are kept is called a “morgue.” Haha… haha.”

Even though I was feeling hot and bothered, Auntie was calm and smiling as she spoke.

"When a major figure is reported to be ill, the reporter has to prepare the latest news about that person from the morgue. We often have to investigate the news of a dead person. Haha... Haha, don't be too optimistic when reporters come to ask for news. I'm always curious to know when the "Kyw" will be released. It's easier to "Kyw" before the newspaper closes the form. If you "Kyw" after the form closes, you have to delete the forms that have already been submitted. Okay. Okay... That's it..."

“Oh... Before I can write that kind of news, I have to try out many of the novels you asked me to write. I have to write novels about the married lives of famous women, and the lives of the household gods who have married famous women. I will write the order. Think about that.”

"Cool... yes, cool..."

Auntie fell asleep for a moment. Then, without opening her eyes, she spoke slowly with her lips parted.

"I wonder if you'll feel better if you eat. If you feel better, I'll take you to Khin Win Thing's house."

I heard that the art teacher, Khin Win, knows. "Let's go, Auntie."