Lut Sein Win - What is the goal and other articles

Diesel and cocktail

On the morning of October 3, my grandmother from Mandalay called me. She said that she had some leftovers, such as thorny thorn, white gooseberry, Pyin Oo Lwin tannin, and pea pods, so she sent them to me.

"It's too hot in Yangon to eat rice."

I said gratefully. It has been two weeks since Yangon has been so hot. It is so hot that it is like a fish thrown out of the water and thrown onto the ground. My eyes are burning, my head is aching, and I don’t feel like eating. It is surprising that even though I am a very well-mannered person, I can’t stand the heat. Most people with asthma tend to get sick in the rainy season and winter. I don’t know why I feel short of breath and tired when it is hot, unlike others. I went to Taunggyi and Kalaw in December without any problems, and I went to Pyin Oo Lwin without any problems. Not only that, I was in Yangon for 16 hours a day, as instructed by the doctor.

The person who was on oxygen tubes for a week after arriving in Pyin Oo Lwin no longer needed the oxygen tubes. He was comfortable in the fresh, cool air.

"Like you, Daw Daw also couldn't breathe when she returned to Mandalay. I was out of breath. The air here is as clean as Pyin Oo Lwin, and I can't imagine how much more difficult it is to breathe."

Daw Daw has been in Pyin Oo Lwin for five months and has only been back for two days, so what is Mandalay like with “diesel air”? I still miss the fresh, cool air of Pyin Oo Lwin. Even though it has been four months since I returned from Pyin Oo Lwin, I still haven’t gotten used to the air of Yangon. What can I call the air of Yangon when I say “diesel air” in Mandalay? It’s ninety times worse than Mandalay air. It’s a mixture of diesel, gasoline, garbage, sewage, sweat, and, since my house is near the shore, the smell of water. So, it’s better to call it “cocktail air” in a modern and modern way. Isn’t it better to simply call the smell of the big city “city air”?

Let's leave it. No matter what you call it, Yangon air and Mandalay air are the same in places where it is not clean. It is as different as Pyin Oo Lwin air. I noticed this difference only when I came to Pyin Oo Lwin. I had never noticed it before. I thought it was just hot and cold.

This time, I only noticed it when I arrived in Pyin Oo Lwin, three hours after leaving Yangon. Before leaving Yangon, I had been struggling like a fish on land, but as soon as I arrived in Pyin Oo Lwin, I immediately noticed the difference. Breathing in the Pyin Oo Lwin air was so refreshing that it went straight into my lungs. Before it reached my lungs, I could feel the clean, cool taste of the air as it passed through my trachea. When I reached my lungs, I felt like it was going back into my lungs. I felt full and refreshed immediately.

Breathing the air in Yangon is like breathing in a snoring sound, like some meditators do, so you don't even realize you're breathing in. You don't even feel the air entering your lungs. You don't feel full in any way.

How delicious it is to breathe in the fresh, cool air is something that even the “cocktail wind” and the thin, thin noses cannot express. I noticed this quite a while after arriving in Pyin Oo Lwin. One day, at about 5:30 in the morning, as I did every day, I went out to the courtyard to do breathing exercises, and the strong smell of diesel filled my nostrils. I looked around and saw no cars. The “Delhi Motel” next door was also quiet because it was early in the morning. I think the film crew, who had been there for four or five days, were still feeling well because of the cool weather.

While I was looking here, looking there, thinking there, thinking there, I saw a small train approaching from a bend in the road, its chimney billowing with smoke and the sound of a roaring engine.

"Oh, the defendant is yours."

Before I could see him, before I could hear his voice, I could smell him. A foul smell wafted through the clear, cool air, like a black spot on a white sheet that would turn into a fire.

Since my house is located on the main road in the city center, where government offices and embassies are located, there are cars and trucks passing by all day and night. By 2 am, the noise of cars is almost completely silent. But at 4 am, the market vendors come out again with a roar. Having lived in such a busy area for more than 40 years, my nose has become “habituated”. I can’t smell anything. My ears are the same. The noise is familiar. When visitors from the surrounding areas come to stay overnight or in the evening, they just leave immediately after finishing their business. I never stop asking them to stay calm and relax. They say that they don’t have any trouble with their eyes or ears. They also say that even drinking water is bland and tasteless. The visitors from Shan State are even worse. It’s so hot that they can’t stop whining.

Now that I've been in Pyin Oo Lwin for a long time, I've noticed the difference. In Yangon, my nose is used to it, so I can't smell any diesel. My ears are used to the noise. So I can't sleep because I'm fat anymore.

The state of being "domesticated" is very bad. It can completely destroy all five senses without even realizing it. It doesn't just destroy the five senses. It goes further and destroys human behavior and human spirit.

I can't help but be amazed when I see young children today who are obsessed with Power Rangers, Batman, and Spider-Man CDs. How dare children in the past watch things like stabbing, slashing, and killing? Parents

When we go to the movies with our friends, we have to hide our heads in our mothers' laps when there are scenes of killing and slashing. Not only children, but even college girls and old women don't usually watch war movies. I think they are not used to the bloody killing and slashing, and they are not used to it.

It's not a bloodbath. It's the same with clothing. Even in cheap movies like Cowboy Cars in the 1950s, the actresses wore big, flowing dresses. A bra was also a bra that had to be tied tightly at the back by someone. In 1956-57, a Chinese girl from Pyin Oo Lwin Convent came to Mandalay University to study, and it was unusual. She wore it for the first time at Mandalay University. She wore it alone for a whole year. Although people stared at her, she often scrunched her nose. We met on the tennis court every evening, and sometimes we played together, but we didn't dare to stand close to her and talk to her, who was always on her stomach.

Then, wearing a bra became a habit. Those who had just started wearing it would even start to joke around, saying things like, "Oh, my chest, my chest," "On my stomach, I can't eat it," and so on.

Even two- and three-year-old children don't know what to be afraid of when it comes to attacks and killings. The movies and videos we watch every day are filled with scenes of blood and gore. After a while, it's normal to get used to it. What is normal is only going to get worse.

In the eyes of people these days, there is nothing that is not seen or heard. We see blood-soaked pictures in the newspapers. So killing and dying are nothing new in this era. Everything is normal. Our eyes are used to it. Our minds are also accustomed.

When I look back at old American movies from the 40s and 50s, I see young women who value their bodies very highly. If they get pregnant before they get married, they are not allowed to leave the house. They are ashamed to the point of committing suicide. In the past, in the West, there was also “shame”. They also understood the concept of self-reproach. Only later did shame disappear. Values ​​changed.

Movies and the media have made people tame cruelty, cruelty, and shamelessness. Once they are tamed, they are no longer afraid of fear. They are no longer ashamed of shame. The fact that urban people can no longer smell diesel in their noses is because their noses have become tame. Not being ashamed of shame is also because they have become tame. Being tamed is not good. Being tamed without being ashamed is very bad.

(Poem, 10-10-14)