I didn’t plan to think about Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, but these thoughts have a way of appearing unbidden.

Something small triggers it. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together while I was browsing through an old book left beside the window for too long. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I lingered for more time than was needed, ungluing each page with care, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.There’s something

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