Shantaram နှင့် အလုပ်မရှိ ကျနော့် ဘဝ
Yesterday marked the three full weeks since I was promoted to a position “unemployed” which no one liked to brag about in many blue moons ago. As if they had been infected by incurable diseases.
Thank God, the time has moved on and those days are long and gone now.
In the present era, a new term “self-employed” has taken replaced its place, encouraging people, myself included (the creatures and victims of circumstances) who find themselves at a disadvantage, to deliver their status and position in a more subtle and yet acceptable way with a sense of self-worth.
Yeah, that was my defence mechanism kicked in.
Since I got back in town, I have been staying indoors and keeping myself distant from everyone I know and knew. I have spent most of my days reading. Believe me, I am so good at reading many books at a time. I do not know if that should be considered as a quality. I often jump from one book to another. I re-read “Normal People” and “Beautiful World, Where Are You”, and have just finished “Conversations with Friends” by the same author, Sally Rooney.
I also managed to finish reading “Brokeback Mountain” by Proulx Annie just before starting the last book of Sally Rooney, and now flipping through “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” by Anna Betty Smith.
Yet, I still have a long overdue reading debt. The “Shantaram” by Gregory David Roberts.
Levon recommended that book to me months ago, which he told me that he had read during his first mission in Maungdaw. That was back in the year 2017 if I recall correctly. That was when the Red Plus started its operation for the very first time in the area.
“There was absolutely no entertainment whatsoever,” he told me during one of those gin and tonic drinking sessions we enjoyed together at his residence. “Jumbo” was the name it was given.
“I am now in the same residence, the same room but the quality of water has improved. Back then, it was murky and yellow.”
“After dinner, I would lay in bed, warp myself in a blanket and read “Shantaram”. The only source of light I had was illuminated by a portable battery lamp.”
“The rain bucketed down outside.”
I envisioned how cosy it would have been, to recline in bed and then delve into the pages of “Shantaram”.
He left in March.
I left in July.
Now we are in August, I still have got some more chapters to finish.