Thein Pe Myint - 5 short stories

Breaking a diamond while rowing a boat

(1)

One Saturday in April, I was returning to my office on Bar Street after representing my client in a case at the West (2) District Court.

It was about an hour later, and the sun was scorching hot. I could see the hot steam rising on the tarmac of the road. Even the gentle breeze blowing from the Yangon River couldn't cool me down.

My office is on the third floor of the building, so I have to climb it with a heavy sigh. I look imposing with a big headscarf, a black robe in my hand, and a Bangkok long-sleeved shirt, but I am not comfortable wearing it. The headscarf not only makes me feel suffocated, but it also hurts my ears.

The more I talk about lawyers, the more I feel the pain of the headscarf. The hands that hold the cases in the black robes and the hands that hold the Bangkok cloth are also very stiff. The sticky collar that is worn on and off seems to be specially designed to tighten the neck. If a new legal system were to emerge, I would have to abandon the robes and the appearance of lawyers in that new system. I would have supported the new system without paying attention to other facts.

As soon as I entered the office, I threw the case file from my hand onto the table. I hung my black robe on the hook. I took off my hat and put it in the suitcase. I felt free and at ease.

I turned on the fan and sat down in the chair. I thought my feet were getting cold while I was reading the newspaper, so I had to take off my shoes and socks. Then I remembered that the sandals I had kept in the study were almost torn and I had to buy new ones.

I look at the Monday court dates in my diary. Then I take the relevant case files out of the desk drawer, flip through them, and note which law books I have at home to read. Then I read the pending case files thoroughly. I am a well-trained lawyer who studies the case thoroughly and prepares well.

And so it was three o'clock. The sound of the lawyers' and clerks' hands beating had died down. The sound of the clients' shoes had also died down. The lawyers who shared the same room with me had all left. Even the company office across the room had closed.

I put on my shoes again. I also remembered that I had to buy a pair of shoes for the trip.

I am the owner of a house to live in, but not the owner of a car to drive. After locking my desk drawers, wardrobes, and rooms, I went downstairs and walked along Bar Street to Fraser Street. The sun was still hot and pleasant. However, the wind was blowing from the river, which made me think that the heat was much less.

It was a Saturday at this time, and the streets around the police headquarters, the High Court Municipal Office, and the highway were sparsely populated. There was little traffic. So I could walk around at my leisure.

When I reached Fraser Street, I turned left and walked towards Thein Kyi Market. There were few people and little traffic on that side, but there were many people and traffic on this side. I stopped at a large shoe store to look for the shoes I wanted. I didn’t like the design, the type. I didn’t like the sole, the strap. I didn’t like the price, so I left without buying anything. In this way, I crossed Sule Pagoda Street, then Sitkay Maw Htaw Lay Street, etc. Then I found something I liked, but the price was not right. So when I reached Mugo Street, I looked in a large store again and found the shoes I liked, the type, the style, and the style. However, the seller looked at me in an arrogant tone, and I felt angry and said, “Is this how a lawyer with a suit like me should be treated?” and I left without buying.

But when you pass Mughal Road, you can't find any big shoe shops. You can only see street vendors selling 20 or 30 pairs of shoes on a pallet made of pine boards. Some of them sit on small pine boxes, others on small stools, and some sit on broken bricks. The men sell with hats on because of the direct sunlight, and the women sell under umbrellas. The shoes in their shops don't have famous brands. It's unlikely that even a lawyer or an office clerk like me would enter their shops. All you see are poor city workers and poor villagers who come to Yangon from time to time, choosing and haggling. At first, I hesitated to enter their shops. Later, to make up for the grievances he had against the arrogant shopkeeper, he approached a small shopkeeper who had no business.

He was probably in his 30s. He was tall. He had a broad chest. You could see the muscles in his arms and legs. His face was flat and his lips were pouting. He was a man. The cork hat he wore on his head was not only misshapen but also dirty. He looked to the east frequently. I guessed that his gaze was not one of expectation but of concern. If it was an expectation, he would have greeted me, a shopper approaching him from the east, with a smile. He would have invited me to come and see, buy, and shop. But that was not the case. I picked up a pair of shoes from his tray and turned into a slobbering mess.

"What kind do you want, sir?"

“Your shoes are of poor quality.”

"The variety is not bad. It's because they are not yet famous brands. The variety can compete with the biggest names. Let's see."

As he spoke, he picked up a pair of shoes and swung them around. I loved his quick words and quick movements.

"Why doesn't your store carry shoes from well-known brands?"

He looked towards the east worriedly, pretending not to hear my words. The sound of the bus was also noisy and overwhelming. After a while, he turned his eyes, which had been looking towards the east worriedly, towards me again...

"What, teacher..."

"I'm asking why your store doesn't carry shoes with established brands?"

“Master... This matter is a business concept, so I need to explain it in detail. I don’t think Master has time. So I will report it in detail. A brand is just a name. Just like a rose is beautiful no matter what name it is called, it is beautiful no matter what name it is called, and the shoes I sell are all good, no matter what brand it is.”

I smiled. This street trash