စိတ်ထဲရှိသမျှ

I dreamt of her the other day. She has not lost her grace and beauty. I was surprised, but also extermely pleased. It has been 5 years. I wonder how she is doing. I do hope and pray that she is in good health. It is funny, when you think about it, that we never once bumped into each other in the past, even though we lived in the same country. Exactly two weeks ago, I learnt that she had grown fond of reading poems. She admitted that a lack of time had pushed her towards short essays and poetry, especially poems, which she enjoys most for how they open imaginary doors

မနေ့က အလုပ်ဆင်းချိန်မှာ မေမေ ဖုန်းဆက်တယ်။ အခု အိမ်ပြန်တဲ့လမ်း မှာဆိုတော့ Oh, are you coming home now လို့ပြန်မေးတယ်။ I sensed an element of excitement in her tone ပါ။ Not our home, but my home here ဆိုတော့ အော်… တဲ့။ Are you happy တဲ့။ I am neither happy nor sad လို့ပြန်ဖြေလိုက်တယ်။ Why တဲ့။ she then continued, "everyone that I came across recently assured me of the affection they have towards the humanitarian works," တဲ့။ (she meant the foreign workers).  I didn’t know why but I felt a bit of indignation ဆိုတော့ ကန်ချင်တဲ့ စိတ်က ထိန်းမရဘူး။ We are the same same but