I didn’t plan to think about Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, however, that is frequently how memory works.

Something small triggers it. Tonight, it was the subtle sound of pages clinging together when I reached for a weathered book resting in proximity to the window. Moisture has a way of doing that. I lingered for more time than was needed, separating the pages one by one, and his name emerged once more, silent and uninvited.One finds a unique attribut

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