Saw Oo - 5 short stories

That day, the two of us were walking along a dirt path dug near the foot of the prison wall, chatting.

Section 5 prisoners were still relatively free at that time, but the restrictions were not yet over... As long as they did not try to climb over the prison wall, as long as they did not break the bars of the prison with a saw, they were allowed to walk freely within the prison compound, talk to each other, climb the banyan tree, (yes, there is a tall banyan tree within the prison compound, and reaching the top of that tree is a great privilege. The younger Section 5 children and the older Section 5 prisoner, Thakin Phonyay U Nana, used to climb the top of the banyan tree every evening and observe the beautiful girls on the street with a mirror.) The right to play cards (which is practiced by those imprisoned for misusing public property). The right to sing, play football, do anything they like, whether alone or with others. It's a time when you can have the opportunity to work together, even in groups.

There is still one thing left. There is still no standard system for bathing. It is still possible to take a full bath and wash clothes and do laundry.

Ko Pe Aung and I were fellow Section 5 inmates, the same age, and even though we were in the same cell, we were also in the same group called “Maes” in prison parlance, so we had a close bond even though we only met in prison. Ko Pe Aung had been in prison for almost a year before me, so I had the opportunity to learn from Ko Aung the incomplete knowledge I had about prison.

I remembered that day was the eve of Thingyan. On the other side of the prison wall, from the military police barracks, I could hear the sound of pots and pans being banged. Children were also playing with sticks and sticks in the air.

We both talked and came to the prison hospital. Looking out from an upper-floor window, I saw a man who was about 60 years old and was the only one who had ever been in prison. I remembered that I had not even completed a year of prison life. I looked at the face of a man who had a big face on the eve of my departure. His forehead was wrinkled and his cheeks were already sunken, and his pale eyes were like rain about to fall, as if they had not seen us. .

“How are you, Uncle Htun?” Ko Pe Aung greeted us. However, he didn't hear our voices because they sounded different.

After Ko Pe Aung lit his dead cigar...

"I won't tell this old man anything," he said, his voice never ending...

"Why wouldn't you say something?" I asked, starting to question.

By that time, we had arrived at the base of the mango tree where we usually sat, so the two of us went in and sat down, each lighting a cigarette to create a thick cloud of smoke.

(2)

"Don't mention the gun, what are they afraid of when they can even carry their own staff?" Ko Pe Aung continued.

Ko Pe Aung was referring to the personal life of Ba Gyi Tun, whom we had met earlier, so I, who did not yet know the full story of Ba Gyi Tun, listened intently without interrupting Ko Pe Aung's words.

Ba Kyi Tun is from the same village as Ko Pe Aung. He is 62 years old, has no children, and his wife, Daw Thita, works in the rice fields with her grandmother. He is a good farmer in the village. Because of his integrity, the union has appointed him as the treasurer of the village farmers. Ko Pe Aung is the secretary. That is all I know. Ko Pe Aung continued to explain his words.

"Grandpa often says thank you to you."

"Why?"

"You saved his life."

When he first arrived at the prison, he was suffering from malaria. He was old and had a sick child, so he had to stay in the prison for 5 days on the floor. The day he came to us, he fell ill around midnight. I prepared a mixture of palm leaves and cloves, which I had prepared according to the medicine I had memorized, and I gave him a strong dose of salt and pepper. The next evening, he became a good person. Since there were only young people in our prison, Ba Kyi Tun, who wanted to live in a dormitory, was moved to the old prison hospital, Lu Shin, about 5 days later. Not only Ko Pe Aung and I, but the whole prison, took care of Ba Kyi Tun and encouraged him to be happy.

"As long as you get what you pay for, there's no need to be grateful. Be positive... eat well, sleep well, take care of your health. That's all that matters right now," I replied.

"Mind... old man Luther was a very strong-willed old man. He never said a word to me about the fact that my mother was sick and left behind a child. He never did anything wrong in his life. Everything he did was right, according to his beliefs."

"Is he really rude to the union?"

"He often says that the union is his life."

"Does he support the land revolution?"

“The old man was a peasant 50 years ago, and he is a peasant now that he has been arrested. His father was a peasant. His grandfather was a peasant. Where would he be without supporting the land revolution? His life is the sword and bloodstone of his faith. The enemies are not afraid of his strength, they are afraid of his faith and his knowledge...”

"The fist of faith and the walls of prison cannot be broken."

"Even tanks and mortars cannot destroy it."

"Bombers are free to fly."

"The old man is a giant."

His passion for justice was stronger than armored cars and sharper than bullets, so where would he use his swords? He understood that life was no longer a commodity to be spared here.

Ko Pe Aung was looking up at the prison hospital in front of him. His lips, which were already thin, were so tightly pressed together that even the teeth inside were almost protruding.

“Uncle Htun is a real person,” I concluded.

“Some people are not as strong-willed as him, Ko Soe Myint,” Ko Pe Aung said.

The mangoes were falling one by one near us.

"I've noticed it a little bit too. People who want to scale the prison walls, people who listen every day to see if their names are on the list of "free people" when they shout out from the entrance..."