အပိုင်းအစများ
I dreamt of Mikey last night. It seemed we were somewhere across the country, either in a liberated zone or on a battlefield. It was nighttime and we were in a building that appeared to be a massive warehouse with a thatched roof and some bamboo walls but it protected us from neither wind nor rain.
There were many of us resting, each in our own mosquito net. I shared one with Mikey and lay next to him. I could feel the hardness of the ground and the dampness of the wet grass. Mikey was explaining to me a Buddhist belief, the act of sharing merits with the departed and the importance of it.
I picked up the blanket near my feet and noticed a puddle of water. The blanket was soaking wet, yet I pulled it over my head to cover myself. The mosquito net hung so low that it touched me. I suppose Mikey noticed my discomfort, because he got up to find me a dry sleeping mat.
While he was at it, a comrade showed up with a request. He wanted me to assist in translation as one of us was seeking medical support, and I woke up. The time was 2:55 in the morning. I could not go back to sleep. I thought about the strangeness of the dream and wondered about Mikey. I miss you so dearly. I don’t know why, but the despondency I felt was so sharp, real, and loud. It reminded me of those early days, what I now recall as the stormy days.
အမျှ၊ အမျှ and အမျှ to those left before us for a better place.