Thawta Swe - Life is like that

I encountered

One day, I was reading a book in the Shuma Wa-sek Khan, Maung Htaw Lay Street, with my back to the road, when I heard a car stop in front of the building. After a while, a friend of mine who owned a car came in and...

"Hey... what book are you reading, Father? Let's go over to the car for a while and take a look with detective eyes..."

The car he showed me wasn't his. The Studebaker parked in front of the other room was a week-old one. The driver was dusting it with a feather duster.

I looked up at him...

"Why?"

"I'll tell you later, just go and see."

He stood up, saying that his words were not to be wasted.

I first went straight to the front of the car. The right side of the bumper was slightly bent and the mudguard was quite dented. The glass in front of the steering wheel was cracked and peeling. Then I walked to the side of the car, looking in and out, leaning my head in and out.

I really don't understand cars at all. I wonder if he would tell me a story about this car just because my own man asked him to...

But no. Soon the dusty driver approached me and revealed the car's identity.

"The car is visually disappointing, the engine is reliable. The mileage is not even a little bit. My car is so bad. If I get drunk, I want to drive it myself. The front bumper and mud flaps are the ones that I hit."

I'm not kidding, I just want to talk to him...

"Hey, the windshield is broken and cracked, is it because you hit it with a rock while driving?"

“What is it? Bullets. One day, when I was returning from Bago, the bandits said, “Hey, stop!” I didn’t stop, I forced myself to stop, and… I heard bullets rang out in my ears. We survived because the car was good. If it wasn’t for the milk, the goods would have been used up. People would have been hungry. I will never forget the kindness of this car. Now, when Onna wants to sell it, I try to fix it, but I can’t. The buyer will pay whatever price he says. Because I know the car is good. What does it matter if there are a few scratches on this car? If we fix it now, we will get it. Honestly, Onna doesn’t want to sell this car, it’s a car that benefits them. What the hell… Don’t tell me how much business they have when they buy this car. Now, when the business is booming, they want to throw this car away and drive a new one. How difficult are people? If it benefits you, shouldn’t you keep it forever? The next generation will also You know, there are things that benefit the owner and things that harm him..."

At this moment, I caught his words...

"I hope the next person who buys this car will also have a good business."

His expression is firm...

"Yes...I dare say. I don't want to hold it in my hand for too long. If you fix this deformed thing a little and sell it, you'll make a profit of 3-4 thousand immediately."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm a driver, I've been around this automobile industry since I was a little kid."

I looked at him with a smile and then went back inside. My friend smiled as he spoke to Ko Kyaw.

"What's wrong, my man, what did the driver say?" I didn't act strange at all, just kept a happy face...

“I’m glad the driver believed you when you told him I was the kind of person who would buy a car. Hmm, look here, I look like I could buy a Studebaker.”

I was making gestures, and that friend...

"What? Did the driver repeat what I said, Maung Rint?"

"Don't tell me, don't tell me, she told me, but I know."

My friend actually went to see the car as he asked, and he told me what the driver had said. At this point, he said, “Do you know why the driver said those things, Maung Yin? I told you that Maung Yin is the one who will buy the car, so the teacher said that he wants to sell the car because there is no one who will buy it. What he said about the car being good is the opposite, Maung Yin.” But my friend didn’t know that I had learned so many lessons in my life and university.

 

One hot day in March 1942 (Japanese Era), at about one o'clock in the afternoon, my little horse was trotting in the shade of a kukkō tree in front of a teahouse opposite the Kamaryut Gate. Don't think of it as a horse trotting. He was so exhausted, his ribs were in a row and his body was contracting and expanding, and his whole body was swaying back and forth with each breath. His two nostrils were flaring as hard as they could. Foam was also flowing from his mouth. Sweat was dripping from his groin. His body was also sweating. (A sick horse sweats unevenly.)

In fact, my horse is suffering from dysentery because I was unwise and unforgiving.

I was forced to be so harsh that I could please my father-in-law.

The only reason I did this to please my mother-in-law is because I love my wife and our child.

There is an old saying, "A wife is a cat, a cat is a dog." Now, for me, a horse is a dog......

But...this poor boy cannot die. In our Burmese language, I think it is because of the old customs. He never refuses anything I ask, he never hesitates, and if he cannot run, he will take a step. Even if I whip him to please the traveler who wants him to come quickly, knowing that his horse cannot run, he will not fight me. Some horses, when they cannot run, will kick back when I hit them. My horse is very kind.

"When I was a student, I was going to drive a horse-drawn cart at my father-in-law's request, so I had to be kind and get a horse," he said. With the help of someone who understood, I got him. I paid 400 kyats for the cart.

The horse is blameless, a little black and white, and a little short. I have named him “Black Horse.” He has a very good disposition. He is easy to ride and unhorse. Compared to a horse, his legs are not long, and he is splayed. He is thin. He is also very hardy.

However, no matter how strong this guy is, no matter how good his legs are, if he keeps pushing me with all his love for a woman to please my father-in-law, he'll only last me four months, and I'll get sick.

Can I afford it? Think about it. I don’t look at the horse, I only look at the money. At that time, from Kyimyindaing Sanchaung to Theingyi Market, it cost me 25 cents (25 cents), and I had to run a horse back and forth four times, carrying about 5 or 6 people, so I only earned 5 kyats and 6 kyats a day. I never went home without earning such a lot of money. If I left at 5:00 or 6:00 in the morning and still hadn’t earned enough money, I would drive it back an hour or two. In fact, a horse can’t be kept in a carriage for more than 5 hours (at most 6 hours. It shouldn’t be kept).

At this time, I don’t understand this. I thought of horses as cows. My father was a farmer, and I grew up with cows, so cows can drive a cart all day long. (I don’t think that horses run, cows walk slowly.) I thought that horses would be the same, and sometimes it was already 11 o’clock, and I only had 3 kyats in my pocket at the market. There were few people. At this time, if I came to the swimming pool for 3 kyats, I would go. So I could only go home after an hour or two. The horse was tired. The man was happy and gave his mother-in-law money and kissed his wife. I have to say something here. My mother-in-law is a woman who is called a kapya, and according to Western customs, it is a very proper thing to kiss a woman in front of her husband.

When I kissed my wife and went back down to the stables,