An English Writer

2016, October, 37th Street, Yangon

YANGON city was in agony under the blaring October afternoon sun. Almost all the city dwellers suffered in the heat. Lin was no exception. He was now experiencing the intense heat so much that he was complaining about how hot it was, compared to last year.

But, Lin forgot to bring his umbrella today, but not his Shan bag. He could sense the intensity of the heat more because he wore a long-sleeved, collarless white shirt, and a blue checkered sarong while he was sipping a cup of tea enjoyably at a teashop on 37th street.

He looked around the teashop, and he could see that other tea drinkers were also feeling the heat. Some had chosen to sit under the fan to alleviate the heat. Even the teashop owner fanned herself with a rattan fan, but she did not seem satisfied with what she was doing.

Instead, her eyes were still fixed on the open ledger book into which she input the number of tea and snack orders from nearby offices. She was a bit busy with that, and wore her usual stern face. At that moment, Lin turned his look from the owner towards the street. He noticed that a middle-aged tea drinker was sitting under the big umbrella provided by the teashop.

While Lin was looking at the tea drinker, a rather old, thin, grubby woman approached the man to ask for some money. She was a bit hesitant to come nearer to him. The tea drinker declined to offer the money to her because he saw no sincerity in her. The beggar woman walked away without complaint.

Suddenly, Lin felt a lack of air so he tried to unbutton his collar button so as to feel more relaxed. He looked around for the other fan in the teashop, but he found that the one nearer to him was in its final tenure.

Without hesitation, he gulped down what remained in his cup, paid the money for the drink, and stepped out of the teashop into the sunlight trapped street.

As soon as he hit the street, Lin caught sight of one or two stray dogs relieving themselves on the wheels of an expensive parked car.

Another lazy dog was lying down in the middle of the street without a care in the world. Lin looked at them, feeling pitiful. Later, he consoled himself that it was a common sight to see stray dogs in groups, howling, and barking at each other when they saw their own kind entering into their respective territories.

He also noticed that some passers-by tried not to stumble into the lying dog which cocked its head at whoever came in its direction. Actually, it was taking full sovereignty in this spot.

Suddenly, Lin groaned. The foul smell. It came from the blocked gutters, rushing into his nostrils when he was close to the edge of them. Just then, a big dirty rat scurried across the concrete street, skidding off between his legs.

He hurriedly lifted his left leg off the ground, making his composure unbalanced, at which two girls who walked past him giggled. But, Lin showed nonchalance towards their unkind conduct.

Instead, Lin held his head high and looked up at the sun which beat down on him mercilessly. Sweat began to roll from his dimples down to the edge of his jaw. He wiped it with his left shirt cuff.

Lin knew that there laid a series of wayside second-hand book shops along the street. Last time, when he was in one of the old book shops, he found a rare book written by the late president, Dr. Maung Maung entitled"London's Diary" at a cheap price.

Lin wondered whether this time he would also be lucky enough to come across another kind of old book. Lin was in the habit of collecting old books at his home so most of his friends referred to him as a bibliophile. Normally, he became happy when he got an old book on these shopping sprees.

He passed by a few street book vendors in which he found nothing interesting: only cheap fiction, old journals, and magazines. Suddenly, he found one vendor who had only English books laid out.

Lin wanted to browse through some piles of books that were stacked behind the untidy cluster of books. He squatted in front of the shop and started to rummage through a few books in the hope of finding a good, old book.

Suddenly, Lin found a thin book which was at the bottom of the stack, and he tried to take it out. He read the title which said "Rainbow Land and Other Burma Verses". Again, he read the author's name which said "C. J Richards". This was new to him.

He wanted to know the contents of the book, and when he turned the pages he found several poems. He also noticed the marvelous illustrations in the book. He really liked them.

While Lin was browsing through the book, a certain old man was staring at him although he didn't seem to notice. Apparently, it was the bookseller and he stood reading today's journal. The bookseller wore a white vest and wore thick-rimmed spectacles so that he looked like a truly avid reader.

Lin asked the man for the price of the book while he was holding it in his hand. He showed it to the man and asked, "Oolay, do you know where the bookseller is? I'd like to know the price of this book."

At this point, the man lowered the journal from his hold with much indignation as if Lin was interrupting his solo enjoyment of reading. He stared at Lin and blurted out, "I'm the bookseller. Will you take it?"

The question was too short. It seemed that the bookseller did not want to delay the prospect of doing business. It seemed that the man was short-tempered. Lin noticed this because he knew from previous experience that some old booksellers were hard to deal with.

Lin decided that he should ask the price directly rather than trying to evade it. "I want this. How much do you want for it?"

The man sternly looked at Lin again, and stood up from his seat, approaching Lin as if he wanted to charge upon him. Lin put the book forward to the man who looked at the book and said, "It's 5,000 kyats. That's final. I can't reduce the price."

The air of the owner seemed like one of declaring war rather than selling a book. Lin got the point, and took out a 5,000 kyat note, and gave it to the man who went back to his seat where he had left his journal open.

Lin was quite happy because he had the book now. It was so sure that when he reached home, he would read it for enjoyment. Normally, he collected and read history books on Burma, which was now known as Myanmar.

2016, November, Mahabandoola Park, Yangon

LIN suddenly turned his steps into Mahabandoola Park which has, in its center, the obelisk Independent Monument. He wanted his weary mind to stray from his daily cares and concerns. This was a kind of solace on which he relied whenever he needed something different from the boredom of his daily job, which included daily visits to book stores and shops which lay downtown, especially along Pansodan Street.

Lin was living with his uncle in a suburb near downtown Yangon. His uncle, U Thein Lwin was engaged in book distribution so Lin worked in his uncle's office.

Lin had graduated from university three years ago but his aim was to be a successful author. He was striving to achieve this goal. Actually, his mother sent him to live with U Thein Lwin who was Lin's mother's elder brother.

As soon as Lin entered the park, he directed his steps towards the whitewashed obelisk where there was a flight of steps on which he could sit. He didn't expect many people to be spending their time there. He chose the elongated strip of shade provided by the monument, and he readily sat down, putting his Shan bag down beside him.

Lin took out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped some grease and sweat off his oval face. Within time, a breeze blew gently, and he enjoyed the coolness of it. He thanked the breeze because at this time of the day he really needed it.

One could say that Lin's appearance was normal in terms of handsomeness. Lin was not a good-looking man, but he liked to keep his countenance neat and tidy. He liked to keep his hair short too because in his childhood his mother kept his hair short and applied coconut oil to it every day.

Suddenly, Lin noticed that this was the only place which totally muffled the noise of the traffic and reckless honking of impatient urban drivers. He thanked the people who had built this park for people to take a rest in.

Lin looked around and saw a few people sitting around the obelisk. They were in their own gaits and postures. Some were chatting, some were standing against the plinth of the Lion, some were reading journals, and some were feasting their eyes on nearby young and pretty girls who posed for photographs while chuckling away.

Lin saw different ages, types, sexes of people. But, he noticed too that there was no one who bothered to read the declarations by late Prime Minister U Nu written on the base of the obelisk. They liked to sit down and relax rather than reading inspirational and serious words from the circular surface of the Independence Monument.

While there, Lin saw an unofficial guide with a white shirt and Kachin longyi who looked more than forty years old due to his receding hair in front and on top. The seemingly officious guide was with two adult visitors, and he pointed his finger towards the pillar. The man audibly explained about the history of the independence monument and the history of the park so that people started to glance at him. His mouth's twitch was a feat to everyone.

Out of curiosity, Lin eavesdropped on what the guide was trying to say to the visitors who occasionally nodded their heads towards the guide's careful and meaningful explanation. It seemed that they were trying to appear fascinated by his explanation.

"This park has got several names, namely, Tank Square, Fytch Square, Queen Victoria Park, and finally Mahabandoola park," the guide poured out.

"In the place of this obelisk there used to be a statue of Queen Victoria, which was removed by the people and replaced with the independence monument to let people know that Burma gained its independence back from the British", the guide sounded proud.

Without stopping, the guide explained more, but it seemed that he failed to notice the emotion of his visitors who showed more interest in the red brick high court standing gracefully in front of them because they glanced occasionally at it with much wonder and affection.

A feeling which showed Lin's irony towards someone else's fault shot up and a smirk suddenly appeared on his face. He felt a prickly feeling making him tickle. He almost let out a laugh so he turned himself away from them. But, in his mind he thought what a negligent guide this man was because although the guide had enough knowledge, he had not enough sense. He should know what his visitor's were most interested in. If not, it was just a waste of breath and energy.

But, the guide happened to notice Lin's distorted composure when their eyes met, and the guide glanced at Lin with contempt, but he did not show his vexed expressions, and he led his visitors towards the High Court.

Lin's eyes followed the back of them, and they were leaving, slowly getting further and further away from him. Unconsciously, he looked up to the sky in which some crows were flying south-west, cawing at the same time. He envied their life, so carefree and with so much freedom.

Lin exhaled heavily. He leaned fully against the pillar, and closed his eyes in the hope of gaining back his strength which he used up walking around downtown. As soon as his eyes closed, the face of a book shop owner appeared: much unwelcome, and ugly.

The book shop owner he met this morning had got big eyes, a big nose, and thick eye brows. Everything about this man was cumbersome. Not only were his features rough and big, but also his sentiments.

Lin arrived at the book shop this morning to collect the payment for books which he had distributed to them three months ago. Before he went there, he called the book shop first to let them know he would collect the payment today. A female clerk told Lin that he could come today and collect it.

When Lin explained to the owner of his arrival at the bookshop, the book shop owner turned down his explanation, and the owner insisted that Lin come back next week, saying that there had been no sales today.

Lin felt like he had been kicked in his chest with such a force that he forgot to breathe in. All his energy and strength were almost gone; he was disillusioned, and dismayed. He cursed under his breath inaudibly, and turned his back on the book shop. Decidedly, he said to himself, he would not come to this shop again.

2016, December, Sule Pagoda Road, Yangon

LIN got off the crowded commuter bus which stopped at Sule Bus Stop. He needed to queue up until the passengers in front of him finally got off the bus. He watched people taking different directions when they disembarked.

Some went up to a series of cinemas across the road. Some directed towards the Sule Pagoda where they were going to pray. Some went in the direction of Theingyi Bazaar to buy commodities or other things they needed.

But, Lin was walking easily along the road towards Sule Pagoda, and he needed to stop at the traffic lights to cross Anawrahta Road on which many big and small vehicles were running almost continuously, only stopping for a red light.

Last night, he had finished reading the poetry book "Rainbow Land and Other Burma Verses" by C. J Richards. In the book, there was one poem titled "To an Indian bull on Sule Pagoda Road" and Lin wanted to find out about which spot on Sule Pagoda Road the poet had composed his poem.

When he got up this Saturday morning, he told his uncle, U Thein Lwin that he wanted to go downtown to meet his friend and to look for some books to read. Upon his uncle's agreement, he went into town. As usual, he wore his white shirt, slinging his Shan bag on his shoulder, and he applied some coconut oil on his head to keep his hair neat and tidy.

Lin remembered that his mother had applied coconut oil since he was young. Every time Lin went to school, his mother did this to keep his hair shiny and healthy.

Lin noticed that there was a flyover for people to use, but hurried pedestrians preferred using asphalt roads.

The cars and buses ran hard without stopping for pedestrians. The traffic policeman at his stall yelled at the jaywalkers to use the bridge, but people failed to listen to his advice.

Lin also joined the group of jaywalkers, waiting for the yellow bus to pass before him, then, he crossed Anawrahta Road (previously Frazer Road). He strolled along Sule Pagoda road, flanking a series of residential buildings that were in need of a coat of paint.

When he looked up at the year the buildings were built, he saw that they were built in 1923. He knew from the history books that during those years, Burma's economy was booming and the government and people could build many buildings like these.

When he passed the fire station, he glanced at it, but he did not stop for long. He came down this road because he was trying to find the spot where C.J Richards wrote his poem.

Finally, he thought that he had reached it. It was the spot on the pavement which lied very close to Sule Pagoda. He stopped on that spot on the pavement, and took out the poetry book he had with him, and started to read it slowly to enjoy every bit of it.

A grubby girl approached him to feed the pigeons which had gathered on the pavement. Lin realized how bad the pavement had become because of the amount of bird droppings. But, he knew that there were paradoxical points related to feeding pigeons.

Some thought that pigeons would ruin the pavement so they should not feed birds, while others feed them to gain merits. Lin simply declined the offer genteelly with a soft smile so that the girl shrank away, leaving Lin to ponder on the poem.

Beside him on the road, buses and private cars were coming and going on both sides like horses freed from padlocks. Some honked their horns to make more noise than needed, even though this part of the city was reserved as a horn-free zone.

On the side of the City Hall, there was also another bus stop at which people were waiting for buses to go home or to go uptown. Lin saw them standing on the pavement although there was a bus shelter for commuters.

Lin noticed that the road was busier and more crowded than in colonial days. In those days, people used man-pulled carts, and trishaws. The significant sight of those days would be pilgrims coming to visit the pagoda.

Even C. J Richards would have seen several people walking down the road in Rangoon. When he saw an Indian bull blocking his way, he composed a poem about the incident and published it in his book.

Because of the author, Lin could visualize what Sule Pagoda and its environs would have been like in those days.

Meanwhile, a man with a little girl was feeding raw corn seeds to pigeons on the pavement. The flurry of the noisy birds and they were trying to snatch as many seeds as possible. The little girl seemed very excited to be feeding these birds which surrounded her, and she threw the seeds in different directions to be more active and invite a bigger flurry of birds.

She was giggling all the time, raising her small arms occasionally with big smiles on her small face. Her father was trying to hold her still, but he could not seem to control her well. But, for Lin, he remembered the words C. J Richards used in the poem "Much honoured consort of thousand kile", and started to like the poet's sense of non-discrimination despite the fact that he was a colonizer.

After reading the poem, Lin smiled. Some words like Chowringheewere still ringing in his ears, but he did not get the meaning of it. He decided that when he got back to his house, he would look for the word Chowringhee.

He stood there for fifteen minutes. After that, he walked in the direction of Mahabandoola Park at which some food company was staging their product promotion with decorated arches at the entrance of the park, and playing some music to attract people to come into the park.

In the meantime, some of their employees gave out sample food to people who entered the park.