An English Writer

2016, October, 37th Street, Yangon

YANGON city was in agony under the blaring October afternoon sun. Almost all the city dwellers suffered in the heat. Lin was no exception. He was now experiencing the intense heat so much that he was complaining about how hot it was, compared to last year.

But, Lin forgot to bring his umbrella today, but not his Shan bag. He could sense the intensity of the heat more because he wore a long-sleeved, collarless white shirt, and a blue checkered sarong while he was sipping a cup of tea enjoyably at a teashop on 37th street.

He looked around the teashop, and he could see that other tea drinkers were also feeling the heat. Some had chosen to sit under the fan to alleviate the heat. Even the teashop owner fanned herself with a rattan fan, but she did not seem satisfied with what she was doing.

Instead, her eyes were still fixed on the open ledger book into which she input the number of tea and snack orders from nearby offices. She was a bit busy with that, and wore her usual stern face. At that moment, Lin turned his look from the owner towards the street. He noticed that a middle-aged tea drinker was sitting under the big umbrella provided by the teashop.

While Lin was looking at the tea drinker, a rather old, thin, grubby woman approached the man to ask for some money. She was a bit hesitant to come nearer to him. The tea drinker declined to offer the money to her because he saw no sincerity in her. The beggar woman walked away without complaint.

Suddenly, Lin felt a lack of air so he tried to unbutton his collar button so as to feel more relaxed. He looked around for the other fan in the teashop, but he found that the one nearer to him was in its final tenure.

Without hesitation, he gulped down what remained in his cup, paid the money for the drink, and stepped out of the teashop into the sunlight trapped street.

As soon as he hit the street, Lin caught sight of one or two stray dogs relieving themselves on the wheels of an expensive parked car.

Another lazy dog was lying down in the middle of the street without a care in the world. Lin looked at them, feeling pitiful. Later, he consoled himself that it was a common sight to see stray dogs in groups, howling, and barking at each other when they saw their own kind entering into their respective territories.

He also noticed that some passers-by tried not to stumble into the lying dog which cocked its head at whoever came in its direction. Actually, it was taking full sovereignty in this spot.

Suddenly, Lin groaned. The foul smell. It came from the blocked gutters, rushing into his nostrils when he was close to the edge of them. Just then, a big dirty rat scurried across the concrete street, skidding off between his legs.

He hurriedly lifted his left leg off the ground, making his composure unbalanced, at which two girls who walked past him giggled. But, Lin showed nonchalance towards their unkind conduct.

Instead, Lin held his head high and looked up at the sun which beat down on him mercilessly. Sweat began to roll from his dimples down to the edge of his jaw. He wiped it with his left shirt cuff.

Lin knew that there laid a series of wayside second-hand book shops along the street. Last time, when he was in one of the old book shops, he found a rare book written by the late president, Dr. Maung Maung entitled"London's Diary" at a cheap price.

Lin wondered whether this time he would also be lucky enough to come across another kind of old book. Lin was in the habit of collecting old books at his home so most of his friends referred to him as a bibliophile. Normally, he became happy when he got an old book on these shopping sprees.

He passed by a few street book vendors in which he found nothing interesting: only cheap fiction, old journals, and magazines. Suddenly, he found one vendor who had only English books laid out.

Lin wanted to browse through some piles of books that were stacked behind the untidy cluster of books. He squatted in front of the shop and started to rummage through a few books in the hope of finding a good, old book.

Suddenly, Lin found a thin book which was at the bottom of the stack, and he tried to take it out. He read the title which said "Rainbow Land and Other Burma Verses". Again, he read the author's name which said "C. J Richards". This was new to him.

He wanted to know the contents of the book, and when he turned the pages he found several poems. He also noticed the marvelous illustrations in the book. He really liked them.

While Lin was browsing through the book, a certain old man was staring at him although he didn't seem to notice. Apparently, it was the bookseller and he stood reading today's journal. The bookseller wore a white vest and wore thick-rimmed spectacles so that he looked like a truly avid reader.

Lin asked the man for the price of the book while he was holding it in his hand. He showed it to the man and asked, "Oolay, do you know where the bookseller is? I'd like to know the price of this book."

At this point, the man lowered the journal from his hold with much indignation as if Lin was interrupting his solo enjoyment of reading. He stared at Lin and blurted out, "I'm the bookseller. Will you take it?"

The question was too short. It seemed that the bookseller did not want to delay the prospect of doing business. It seemed that the man was short-tempered. Lin noticed this because he knew from previous experience that some old booksellers were hard to deal with.

Lin decided that he should ask the price directly rather than trying to evade it. "I want this. How much do you want for it?"

The man sternly looked at Lin again, and stood up from his seat, approaching Lin as if he wanted to charge upon him. Lin put the book forward to the man who looked at the book and said, "It's 5,000 kyats. That's final. I can't reduce the price."

The air of the owner seemed like one of declaring war rather than selling a book. Lin got the point, and took out a 5,000 kyat note, and gave it to the man who went back to his seat where he had left his journal open.

Lin was quite happy because he had the book now. It was so sure that when he reached home, he would read it for enjoyment. Normally, he collected and read history books on Burma, which was now known as Myanmar.