University of Phonaing - Beyond the Worlds of Tears

Chapter (1)

Heart....

They say the heart is soft. Yes, it can be said. I know that even the inner core of my heart is still soft. Well, the heart is soft.

But it's still hard. On the surface of my heart, a hard shell covers it in layers.

The shell is hard, but as clear as glass.

But... no matter how soft something is, it dries out when exposed to heat. Then it hardens.

I am grateful to see that the inner core of my heart is still soft. The outer shell is still as clear as glass, and I am still happy.

"The desire of the moth for the star, of the night for the morrow,

"The firefly's desire for the stars, the night's desire for the morning."

A world-famous line from my beloved poet, Shelley.

Can a firefly reach a star? Can a firefly from the ground reach the far-off sky?

Is it possible that the night will also bring the day?

You can have your wish. You can have it. To be honest, I didn't understand what Shelley said at first.

Oh...I don't understand myself either. What is my wish? What is my silver star?

I will tell you about a long, long time ago, when a firefly was flying towards a star.

Chapter (2)

How did life begin?

I must say that it started with a thin shell covering my fragile heart.

Oh, I was only 12 years old when I didn't know it. And I was not alone on this journey.

Still going from the known to the unknown.

When you are leaving a life of no attachment to something that seems uncertain and uncertain to be attached to.

Throughout the almost day-long journey, the trees and leaves were falling.

The train was cutting through the middle of the city under the hot summer sun.

The fields where the train passed were now bare and bare.

Large clouds of dust are left behind by the occasional ox cart that can be seen moving in the distance.

The wind from the middle of the field still blows.

The air that entered the train was not cold, but hot. It was getting hotter.

My age. My life is not fair. I like big songs that show a lot of yellow leaves. Among those songs, the summer is beautiful.

Now, summer is hot. Because summer is hot, the leaves are falling. The fallen yellow leaves float in the air, fly up and down with the wind, and finally fall back to the ground.

Unattached, the yellow leaf is unattached. Just like the summer outside, my heart is also hot. Summer is lucky. It can show its warmth without hiding it. The heat inside me is hidden. I dare not show it on my face.

I don't want to show it. Who will pity me if I show it? Even if they pity me, what will happen to my life in a moment?

The times of sorrow are over. The times of tears are over. The times of prayer and hope are over. I have never met a stranger, a stranger, who could be so compassionate as to trust me.

Now I'm not going to strangers. But not those who know whether I'm white or black. Not those who even know that I exist in this world. A stranger, a kind of stranger. And if that kind of stranger rejects me like any other stranger,

My heart was burning. Tears were streaming down my face. Something inside me wanted to say something.

Oh...there are still tears left. Don't let them remain, don't let them go. If you let the remaining tears go, what will happen?

Something inside me wants to choke, be still. Be still again. You choke, and the tears want to follow.

I blinked my eyes and felt the tears well up. I sighed and held back the urge to choke.

There were boys my age on the train I was on. There were a lot of them.

I understand what they do. I understand that they have to sacrifice their own measure and their own courage. Among them are even people I know. I can also walk in their circle. I am as brave as they are.

But I don't like their cycle. I don't want to go through their cycle. That's why I set out on this journey.

From a familiar place to an unknown place. I looked at the fallen yellow leaves.

They are also unattached. Because they are unattached, they are blown by the wind.

Oh...many of the boys on this train are also drifting.

I don't want to be blown away by the wind. I know I'm not a leaf. Should I be blown away by the wind even though I'm not a leaf?

As the train moved along quietly, I took a letter from my brother's bag and read it.

"I can't forgive my daughter, but please have mercy on my granddaughter, mother! This is the last plea of ​​a daughter who knows she is dying."

Mom. Mom, who never showed me the slightest sign of death until she was about to die. In fact, she had been weak for a long time. It was only after Mom died that I found the letter under her pillow.

I've read it so many times that I've almost memorized the entire text. I'm getting the last paragraph pretty well memorized.

I looked at her and saw that she was apologizing to her brother. In my heart, she was apologizing to me too.

If mommy is not here, go to grandma's. Mom's wish. Mom's last wish before she died. The train rang with a clang.

Below, we see the Sittaung River, which is low in water and has been silted up.

Mon State, where I came from, has been left behind on the other side.

On the paper I was holding, I saw a new teardrop.

But...when did he fall? He fell while holding on. He fell because the train was shaking.

Chapter (3)

Once, I woke up when a train passed over the bridge. It wasn't because this train was making the same noise as the Mawlamyine-Rangoon train when it passed over the Sittaung Bridge.

The train was just moving, shaking slightly.

Already running on the road in the base.

I remember the lyrics to a great song I heard.

One step up. One mountain over, one magical dive. One bush over. One sunrise. One sunset, one big tree, one big river.

The train was running again, winding its way along the mountainside.

I also noticed that the railway track was sloping slightly.

The appearance of the forests has also changed. It is no longer just pine trees.

Pine trees do not have true leaves that can be called leaves. They only have small leaf blades that look like small thorns. These leaves

The streams are dark green. The pine trees are also dark green. The entire pine forest is dark green. There is no other color except green.

The trees in the forests that are now emerging have leaves. They have the usual types of leaves. But... they also have color.

On the mountain side where the train is running, on the mountain side where the ravine is, there are colors in the forest.

There are still green leaves. There are also golden leaves. There are also leaves that are as bright as ruby ​​red.

The forest was as beautiful as a painting of flames of gold and rubies, shining in unison.

The flames of the painting suddenly died down. The sky opened up. The vast expanse of land appeared. Where did it come from?

The train was already driving on the flat land. It looked like

A runner who is tired and has his feet on the ground,

It's beautiful.

Against the blue-green background, we could see the red-flowering trees. In the distance, we could see a tall palm tree adorned with ruby ​​flowers.

The people on the train also began to stir. The train entered a station.

Golden eagle.

Ah... I've come a long way.

Being a train station, it was bustling with passengers and people waiting to greet them.

I don't have many things. An old, cheap plastic suitcase slung over my shoulder, and a worn-out velvet-wrapped scroll that I carry in one hand. These are the only two.

I left the station.

I believe that my face shows no concern. I try not to show concern, don't I?

I looked for a bus. I couldn't find any that looked like a bus.

We only saw small taxis for rent. Some were jeeps. Some were sedans. .

I approached a jeep. " Are you going to the mountain? " " Yes, I am going. Do you want to take the whole ride ?"

The speaker was dark-skinned. He had a Burmese face. But his voice was husky.

The voice said, " I can't rent a whole car. Can't I just go alone ?"

“ If it’s full, wait .” “ How much is it for one person? ” “ Five kyats .” I was shocked. My eyes widened. “ Hey, isn’t there a bus here ?”

He looked at me from head to toe in a low voice. After a while...

“ There are no buses at the station, my dear. If you want to take a bus, go over there. There is a bus from Kalaw to Taunggyi. It costs one kyat. Do you have one kyat to pay, sir? ”

He seemed to be following me. But I was still grateful for his guidance.

I answered firmly. “ Yes, thank you for telling me. ” I walked out onto the road. I stood by the side of the road and waited.

Ah...in the end, it's just next to the road, just next to the road.

The golden plain is vast. The sky is vast.

From the side of the road, I felt like my body had shrunk. There were big mountains around the plain. The plain was quite hot, showing the summery nature.

Ah... It's summer on the Shan Plateau, which is said to be cold.

I looked east across the blue-blue expanse of fog.

( I came from the west. It said Taunggyi. It would be in the east.)

The mountain range to the east is higher.

It's more dim and higher.

I will climb the mountain, which is higher and higher, through the mist.

| Room (4) Shan State Council Road.

At the top of the street on the right is a large, imposing white building. At the top of the street on the left is a large, two-story yellow building.

Inside both buildings, there are large signs that say " Taunggyi College . "

Along the perimeter of the two buildings are rows of thick, green trees, evenly spaced, with small, purple flowers blooming.

There are still giant trees with straight trunks along the roadside.

I carried the small bag with ease, and with one hand, I held the small roll of velvet cloth tightly,

It was a long walk from the bus stop near the market to this top of the road. The road looked flat, but it was actually an uphill journey.

Oh...the road is also uphill, a very noticeable uphill.

My whole body is weak and limp.

Yesterday, today, and the next two days, I only ate one meal a day.

I know my own pain, but I also know my own pain.

I slowly walked up the hill. On the right, I saw a large forest. On the left, there was a courtyard and a small one-story house.

I noticed the tall, slender, and slender trees I had seen along the road. I didn't know what they were because they were plants I had never seen before.

All over the city, flowers I don't know what kind are blooming.

The color of the flowers is pink, some are red. Some are purple. Generally, they are pink. The flowers are firm and dense.

The flowers are beautiful, the city is beautiful.

I, a reader, have often read about Taunggyi in novels. Shan city. Flower city. They write like this. Shan city, Flower city, I have often visited it in my imagination.

Ah... now it's really here..

I have arrived, weak, poor, ragged, worn out, and worn out.

I wore a white shirt and a green shawl as neatly as I could. My mother always liked to wear clothes neatly, no matter how worn out or worn out they were.

No matter how neatly I dressed at first, my clothes were already worn out from riding the train for two days straight, and my white shirt was no longer white because of the dusty place.

I don't even know what my face will look like. Right... The beautiful Taunggyi city is because of me.

Have you ever had an ugly breakup?

The uphill path ends at the foot of the mountain and continues to turn right. There is also a path that branches off to the left and descends into the valley. There is also a path that enters the forest at the foot of the mountain.

On the right, in the vast interior, we see a large two-story European-style building, the kind we have seen in foreign books.

Yes.

| On the left are houses, courtyards and houses with European poplar trees.

| Beautiful city. Gorgeous neighborhood. Beautiful houses make me hesitate to continue walking.

I stood on the side of the road and looked up at the mountain view.

I've never seen such a large mountain range so close to the city.

Tall. Magnificent. Huge. Dominant.

Since arriving in Taunggyi City, I've noticed that summer is no longer summer.

The air was as cool as the autumn breeze down there. It had a refreshing, fresh feel. There was also a subtle, strange scent.

It's more peaceful at the foot of the mountain. Yes. It's not summer. There's no summer outside. The summer inside me is just hotter. I think all the courage I've gathered has been used up.

I looked up at the vast, towering mountain and spoke to myself.

" Sir, the rain is so beautiful. But you are the rain that falls on me and covers me. I am not a leaf, not a leaf blown by the wind. "