Yangon Ba Swe - Hnin Nu

Chapter (1)

It's a summer night.

On the slopes of the vast plateau, scattered here and there, without proper shelter, the refugees gazed up at the star-studded sky with awe.

Some were quietly discussing their food, while others were complaining about the torture of diseases. From some places, the shrill cries of starving children pierced the silent night.

Sometimes, they could faintly hear the sound of happy laughter coming from a large tent with a fire burning on the high ground not far from them.

Meanwhile, they heard gunfire and the sound of fire from nearby villages, mixed with the sound of the Leru children.

The crowd, which had been quiet in the darkness, became black and agitated.

" Come on. Get up. Let's go to the festival. Listen to me..."

The sound of gunfire echoed through the air.

" I heard the sound of the drums... That's why the elders said it was a mouth carved by a god. If they could just enter this festival, they would be able to live off it for a month."

The refugees and homeless people were preparing their own sticks and knives.

Some of the sick people lying on their beds were also struggling to get up, pulling on nearby weapons.

The children were waving their hands, but they were burning hot as they passed through the crackling and roaring flames.

The sound of gunfire mixed with the crackling of flames.

The whole village was running around helplessly. The cries of the children who were separated from their mothers could be heard. Not only people, but also cattle and birds were running in droves. Some large houses were falling down on the village road with flames. The bullets of the so-called revolutionaries, who were trying to develop the country out of pity for the poor, hit the villagers who were running around helplessly, leaving them lying in pieces on the village road.

A few minutes ago, many farmer families who had been happily eating rice and dipping it in fish sauce with their relatives, parents, brothers and sisters, and children, were now suddenly separated from their relatives, families, children, and children, and were facing the same fate as the gods.

Even though the dead were already dead before our eyes, the suffering of those who remained was not yet over, and the villagers who had not yet died, having not yet been affected, were all gathered together in a large open field at the top of the village, without any escape. As the fire was burning fiercely from behind, bullets were passing by from ahead. They all looked at each other, their faces pale and shocked.

The men, clenching their teeth and trembling with anger, cursed and held their children and wives in their arms, but

The women and children were screaming and crying, unable to move.

Amidst the scolding, cursing, crying, and shouting, a trembling but steady voice suddenly emerged, dominating the other sounds.

" Sons, daughters, grandchildren, now... be quiet, we have no one to worship except God at this time. If we have to die, let's die with our minds focused on God..."

"Now... sit down, sit down. That way, the bullet will be less painful, my dear."

The crowd, which had been standing, trembling with fear and trembling, suddenly came to their senses, some sat down. Some knelt down. Some fell down. At that moment, the father, with his face towards the sky, knelt down and focused on the Buddha.

My father's brave old voice came out delightfully amidst the gunfire.

" Oh... Lord Buddha, who has compassion for beings like a son... Please, along with your disciples, teach all the wild and wicked people of this world to be civilized, O Lord of Mercy."

The old man's voice calmed the restless. It made them raise their hands and follow. And so everyone sang along with the old man.

" Aseentaya, Aseentaya, Appameya, Appameya, the Blessed One, who is full of grace and infinite merit, the disciples bow down and worship the Blessed One with folded hands."

"May the Buddha, who has compassion and love for many beings, overflow with the waters of compassion, overcome the greed, anger, and delusion of the world's beings, and may they develop the virtues of compassion, love, compassion, equanimity, and equanimity, which are called the Brahmanical virtues."

Their voices rose to the sky. But the bullets, ignoring their voices, kept coming. True and true. One by one, they hit.

Whether they were hit or killed, they had no other hope, no other way to act, except for the Buddha. The villagers were being hit one by one. Those who had not been hit could only glance at the fallen with tearful eyes, and they could only concentrate on the Buddha.

The old man's voice grew louder.

" Save this country, which is covered in greed, anger, and ignorance, as soon as possible..."

Meanwhile, the old man had been shot and killed. The villagers' eyes turned to the old man. Suddenly, there was silence. After a while, the sounds of whispering prayers, mutual consultations, moaning, and weeping gradually began to appear. During that time...

" Hey... there must be a god among these monsters, they're just dying."

They heard a clear voice.

The speaker's face was dripping with sweat. His clothes and body were all tattered and dirty, and his image reflected his life as a farm laborer, but his eyes were bright with anger.

He stood up and shouted in a sharp voice.

" Is this for the big tyrants? Are these bullets for the big tyrants? Think about the words they say every time they come to the village. For you big tyrants, to fight the landlords and big capitalists who are sucking the blood of the poor peasants, and to revolt against the reactionary government that is the whim of the British and American capitalists..."

" Ha... ha... is this fighting a corrupt government? Are we a corrupt government? Look here, is this little boy a corrupt government? Is this old man who only eats from monks a corrupt government..."

“ We are just farmers who are afraid of anyone who comes with weapons. When the government comes, we cook rice, we make coconut milk, when other armed groups come, we give them rice and eggs. Isn’t this what we ourselves have been feeding the children who have been starving and have worked hard to earn their living? Now, the gangs are thanking us for feeding them, shooting them with guns. We don’t support the gangs, oh… we don’t support anyone anymore, we are… people who will die now, aren’t we? We have to show the gangs that we are not satisfied with the gangs that are shooting us with guns while eating our rice and killing us...”

" Now... come on. Get up. We have to die, right? We will die together, and if we show our displeasure to the other team..."

The man's eyes were filled with tears as he shouted... shouted... and spoke. His eyes were wide and wide. Foam was flowing from his mouth. The rest of the people suddenly stood up, looked at each other, and then sat down again. Finally, the man was standing alone. The man turned around and looked at him with a very helpless face...

“ Stay... you stay, that’s why these guys are coming and harassing us, calling us wild cattle. If you continue like this, we will soon die even if we cook a pot of rice. Because you are enduring like this, they are burning down our farmers’ villages. The government is destroying the villages because they are rebels, the rebels are burning down the villages because they are traitors to the government, the rebels are destroying the villages because they are traitors to the government, the rebels are putting the villagers in the middle as protection, and the rebels and the government are cutting them off. You can tolerate what these groups are doing to the bone, but I can’t. I am not satisfied.”

The rest of the people were silent and staring at him in bewilderment. He was screaming like a madman. He didn't seem to have any humanity, he screamed in anger and turned his face towards the shooting and left.

" I'm not satisfied, they are shooting us after eating the food we serve. I'm not satisfied, they are shooting us. Are we a reactionary government?... Is it your revolutionary path to shoot the weak for the weak?"

The voices gradually faded away amidst the gunfire. The crowd that remained watched as the man left. Some had tears in their eyes. As they watched, the man's voice suddenly disappeared, and fell, falling, falling.

The sound of the crowd's sighs could be heard even amidst the sounds of the fire. Then, after a moment of silence, the sounds of sobbing, whispering, and praying began to resound again, wailing, wailing.

At that moment, a calm voice emerged from a corner.