Thawtar Swe - The cycle of beings

Just enjoy your life.

One afternoon last month, while I was on my way to Myay Ni Kone on business, I passed by a liquor store. The scent of liquorice wafting from the store suddenly reminded me of my past. “Oh, I’ll leave my brother’s past in the past,” I said.

"Oh? Aren't you going to come in for a while?" I heard a mocking voice and looked up. Two of my old friends...

The one who spoke now was Ko Mya Han. The other was Kala Appana... They were sitting face to face on the bare ground under the eaves of their liquor store. In front of them was a small plastic cup, and in the middle was a small bottle of liquor with a broken head, and the liquor was stuck to the bottom. In the BBL era, drinking cups are not the same as in the days of the ancient Chinese liquor merchants. The plastic cups are neatly distributed, but the white bottles of liquor that contain liquor are unevenly broken. These bottles are good and sell for 15 or 20 baht, so drinkers tend to lose their temper and destroy them.

The common shop is not only beautiful but also dull. Even in this charming place, I have been charming for many years, so I do not forget my past life. I do not abandon my friends from the past. So I went to them and sat down with them behind the counter..

"The words you said to Mya Han just now were sharp...they hurt my feelings..."

Ko Mya Han poured the remaining bottle of wine into a cup and gave it to me...

"I don't know. When you go from being a Ko Kyung Swe to becoming a national celebrity, U Thaw Ta Swe, will you still ask what these drinks are?"

"How could I forget what I liked when I was young?" he said, eagerly taking the cup he gave him and forgetting about it. Appana, who had not said anything, looked at him with a big smile.

“Hey..Mya Han, Kyung Swe is not stupid yet.”

Appana is a true Goryinji Kula, but he can not only sing well in Burmese, but also sing beautifully.

After I finally finished their little bottle, knowing their wishes and my duty...

"Hey guys, are you drinking your faggot?"

Phương is a white bottle of tảnh sối, which is sealed with a cork and a string to make it airtight. When opened, it foams like beer and tastes delicious. The small bottle they are drinking now costs 20 paise, while this large bottle costs 50 paise, so the price is...

"Huh...what a friend...I'm drinking this because I can't get pregnant..what's wrong with me...my dear..."

I'll give you a one-kyat note...

"Rob... take Mya Han..."

Both Ko Mya Han and Appana are about 10 years older than me. When we first met during the Japanese era, I was about 20 years old and they were about 30. That's why I called Ko Mya Han "you" and "I". Since Appana is a black woman, I (like most people) call him "you" and "I". Appana told me the same thing.

Now I'm 45 and they're probably 55. But their lives are the same as before.

Ko Mya Han was a horse-drawn cart driver in Sanchaung during the British era, and he was my teacher when I became a horse-drawn cart driver in the Japanese era. Appana is a dhobi kula. This raises the question of how dhobi kula and horse-drawn cart drivers get along. The answer is easy. The dhobi kula is also a drinker, the horse-drawn cart driver is also a drinker, and it is natural for drinkers to get along regardless of their backgrounds. In addition, Appana is a member of our horse-drawn cart club.

"Hey - Hey, why is Dobi Kala still a member of the horse and cart club? Let me ask you something in surprise."

Don't be surprised. In those days, noodle shops were also members of the horse-drawn carriage association. Danpauk Kala and tea shop owners were also members of the horse-drawn carriage association.

I'll tell you briefly. Our Myin Kaung Myin Hle Club is located in Sanchaung Ward, near the Myin Hle Gate, on the corner of Shan Road and Varga Road, where the bakery is located. We have to pay an entrance fee. We have to pay a monthly fee.

"What happens if you don't enter without permission?" he asked.

The danger is great. At night, there are drunkards in the shop. If you join the horse-drawn carriage club, this danger will be avoided. If you join like this, accidents will happen. Go to the chairman of the horse-drawn carriage club. You will not be able to finish calling Nga Phyu, Nga Ni, Nga Kaew, Nga Kiew. These Nga Thies are his disciples, the horse-drawn carriage drivers.

I understand. Before the parliamentary democracy era when politicians formed groups, our horse-drawn carriage association has been breaking down like this. It's not out of date now that horse-drawn carriages have been banned in Yangon. Before they were banned, even when I became a teacher, I still rode a horse-drawn carriage sometimes. I'm happy.

I was a member of that horse-drawn carriage club for a year. I have a long history with writers' clubs. Writers' clubs are a group of people who bully and tease each other, both members and members.

Horse-drawn carriage drivers would give their lives to protect their own team. For example, if a member of their team, Maung Phyu, had a conflict with other horse-drawn carriage drivers, or rickshaw drivers, or with civilians who were not getting their horse-drawn carriage fare or were being paid excessively, they would immediately gather their forces, the officials would march in front of the horse-drawn carriage, talk about the benefits, demand what they deserved, and if the situation was bad, they would hold a big fight. When an incident occurred, the majority of the people would riot and fight, and the team's funds would be confiscated by the police during the Japanese era.

Now...don't you get the idea? Our team structure and how it works.

Members have no right or wrong, no justice or injustice. The benefits are real. That's why Appana's dobi shop is also a member of our horse-drawn carters' association. When he became a member, he said, "Don't insult me, even though I'm a black man... I'm a member of our association," and it was a great benefit to Appana.

There were also some benefits that Appana gave us. He would beat us, feed us chicken, and lend us clothes from his store that were suitable for us if he had any.

Yes, in this era, we horse-drawn carriage drivers only wear a mix of cotton and cotton. Sometimes, when there is a festival, Appana Dhobi brings a fire-retardant cloth to wear. Appana says that when the owner of the shirt comes, he will tell you, it is raining, or the washing soda is out.

Appana's shop had a horse's head sign hanging on it, and he had a sign that said, "I am the Lord of the Sky." Appana asked what it meant, so I pointed to the blue sky and said, "The clothes you wash are as beautiful as these raincoats because they can change the indigo." He liked it.

However, later on, the jokers called him "Aponpinmin, Aponappana."

As I held the cup of Dhani juice, I smiled as I recalled the above-mentioned events from over twenty years ago.

"Hey, my friend, why are you smiling?"

“Hey, Apna, do you still have the sign I wrote for you at your dobi shop?”

"There is no such thing as a king anymore. There is no such thing as a horse anymore," he said, looking sad at the loss of the horse-drawn carriage company...

"Hey, my friend, we were so happy back then."

At that moment, Ko Mya Han returned with two bottles of Dhani liquor. As he was taking it from Aap Pan, I held out a kyat note.

"Now...make a tail for Ko Mya Han."

At this, Apana smiled, showing his white teeth, as if he had suddenly remembered something,

“Hey, Mya Han, Kyung Swe likes chicken feet. He bought me a big chicken foot and a leg bone. I’ll chew on the leg bone. Haha…haha…ha,” he said, and both Mya Han and I understood and laughed heartily.

The past incident happened more than twenty years ago.

One evening, in the dark, my horse-drawn carriage driver, Ko Myat Tha, and I, having finished our work for the day and having finished our meal, stopped our horse-drawn carriage in front of this tea shop. Just like that, under the canopy of the shop, Ko Mya Han and Appana were sitting there.

We both gathered around him. We each took turns drinking a bottle and became quite drunk. Appana told us not to finish drinking at the shop tonight but to continue drinking at his house. That evening, a large rooster on the road had been bitten by a dog and his wife had already cooked it. We paid for the bottle, drew bottles of dhani juice, and drove to Appana's house in our horse-drawn carriage, all very happily.

When they arrived at Appana's house, his wife, Ma Ngwe Sein, had already cooked the food. She was already quite drunk, and she was already very winded with calamus and calamus soup.

Our custom is to give the name "Ma Ngwe Sein" to the Kalama who is called "Ma Hu Ra Ke", "Tha Beik Kwe", and "Omei". Appana, who has named herself "Ko Hla", also likes it, so if we go there...

“Hey, Ma Ngwe Sein, don’t talk too much. My friends are here…try the food…”

Ma Ngwe Sein shook hands with Sadikaya..

"I'm calling you, my lord... I've already eaten. I'm drunk," he said, lying down on the bed.

Then Ko Hla called Appana, “Kala Maung Amara, Kindari, Madi, Sambula are all the same,” he said, trying to say something, and went to the pot of stew. The food that came was liver, roots, leg bones, wing bones, and other meat. I, who liked it, grabbed a pair of roots and livers and said, “I’ll eat that, eh… Appana, we only eat gourd, leg bones, and bamboo shoots…” I said, and in the darkness of the kerosene lamp, I bit into the root and was dizzy… and… chicken droppings came out of my mouth.

Hee hee thump... thump and vomited and kicked Ma Ngwe Sein awake..