In a room like my parent's womb, I eat silence while my heart fills with thunder. I want to say "I" but the word is spoiled. No one is here. Where are "you" or "he" or "she"? He or she or you were here and near the room but they left here or passed away. I want to meet them anyway. How did they leave? Were they free or forced to move somewhere? How did they pass away? I heard many stories about them and I think my story might be another. My room is alive with mice, ants, cockroaches and absence. Though I can keep away from those mysterious creatures, the absence doesn't go away. I breathe a sigh of relief. To breathe in means I am alive. I glance up expecting nothing but a ghost.
The womb is filled with forty-watts bulb light. Starlight rains in every city, every country and every society. But brick wall fences beyond my only window, which is guarded by a double layer of wood steaks and iron bars. Barbed wire garlands the wall like a giant's crown. Oh! A flying ghost! Please come over the wire through my so-called window into the womb. I want to say "I" and "You". You have to just listen to me but to do nothing. I'd like you to treat with my property. The womb is only furnished with a piece of wooden plunk, my bed. Oh! Never mind. You don't need to worry. I have two pots- one for drinking water and one for cleaning water- and two bowls-a small one as a plate at mealtime and as a cup at bath time and a big one as a toilet. Anyhow I like to share my things with you for tonight before dawn when you have to leave.
Lonely life is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self. I memorized what May Sarton wrote. Yes! I am alone but I'll be all- master and staff, or leader and follower, or teacher and student. I order me to clean the room and I ask me to take a rest. Master I order and staff I request rest.I agree with I and no one convince both of I to refuse. So I clean the womb and take a rest. I tell me not to bow the warders and I listen me to do so. Though the warders don't like me, I like my leader who is me. I teach me to learn myself in order to know everything. I learn myself through meditation and by learning self I understand the universe. To learn self is no need to have others, but to have alone. Sorry ghost! I no more need you. I need myself. Myself need me. Yes, solitude is a kind of freedom. Did anyone who lived in this womb notice this concept?
Cool polluted air embraces me. Thin cotton blankets try to keep me warm. Learning coolness make me notice the impermanence of coolness. Coolness goes on and warmness goes in. I can alive alone even in this cool womb. Weather is cool and warders are cool blooded beast. But I can neglect all. I have been already known what will happen in this world. We want to have a world where people's hearts are opened, their stomachs are filled , their wills are calmed and their needs are cleansed. We struggled for having this world but we had drowned into the barred world. For me, it is indifferent between cold and warmth.
Before we reach our goal, I could withstand steadfastly with cool or warm, easy or difficult, and alone or with colleagues. Why do I miss to say "I" and "you"? I am the master of me, the leader of myself and the teacher of I. Until I leave the womb, I would call myself "You". " You should never giveup or bow down." It's enough.
Dawn is coming nearer and nearer. Though I awake since midnight, I feel fresh and strong with courage. Yes. I understand that a man with inward courage dares to live, not to die.
Dr. Ma Thida
2001.
[English Forum တခုတြင္ မဲႏိႈက္ရေသာ ေခါင္းစဥ္အား ေရးဖြဲ႔မႈ လို႔ စာေရးသူက မွတ္ခ်က္ေရး ထားပါတယ္။]
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