I didn’t plan to think about Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, yet that is often the nature of such things.

A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. Tonight, it was the subtle sound of pages clinging together when I tried to flip through an old book left beside the window for too long. That is the effect of damp air. I lingered for more time than was needed, methodically dividing each page, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, withou

read more