U Tin Maung was a venerable man and a highly-respected elder.  Now that he was past seventy years of age, he was not to be denied his moral and spiritual rights by being uselessly pampered to a degree that, in accordance with strict Buddhist belief, might, perhaps, negate the possibility of a better existence hereafter. He believed, like so many of his counterparts, that the body could be conquered by the power of the mind, through self-control and discipline.

    As he seated himself cross-legged on the mat at the table, he thought of his son, Maung Ba, who was in the city in quest of a job.  He inquired as to when he would soon return and felt sad that he had decided to work in the city as a clerk, instead of being a farmer.

    Ma Hla convinced her father that Maung Ba would soon be back, assuring him that he was presently in Rangoon looking for employment in one of the many reputable British firms.  Unlike his father and sister, he received a sound English education, hoping to find a job in a company where he could be apprenticed as an accounts clerk and eventually earn a promotion.

She served her father’s meal, then sat down across the table, facing him.

U Tin Maung was a man of the past; he had strict, rural ideas. The thought of his son doing any kind of urban work seemed to be revolting.  He wished that he could be a farmer, instead.  “Why doesn’t he think of the work that he can do here?” he asked. “This is where he truly belongs.”

Ma Hla pacified her father, assuring him that he was well, that, perhaps, it was his destiny to be a city-dweller, and that he might yet be fortunate enough to achieve his objective in some government institution , or a private company, together with the possibility that when he would return, he would not be alone, but accompanied by his wife.  He acknowledged her hope favorably and quickly assessed her character as being a true reflection of himself — a Buddhist whose conception of reality should not be trifled with, but viewed in the light of an awareness of oneself.

He lit up a smile, as he looked at her tenderly, consoled by the thought that his son might not be alone, and might eventually have a good, kind and forbearing woman for a wife, capable of cooking his meals, attending to domestic chores, as well as sharing his joy and suffering.

Ma Hla suddenly lapsed into a momentary silence.  Her thoughts seemed far away. She suddenly appeared sad.  There was no doubt in his mind that she might have felt unwanted, desiring to be just as kind and forbearing to the man she secretly loved.  She met him a few times at pwes (musical and dramatic performances), where they had, from time to time, exchanged amorous glances.

U Tin Maung observed the sad expression on his daughter’s face and was sure about what she was thinking. He took her hand into his. “My child, do not despair, for, you, too, will surely find a kind man who will be your husband, and, who knows, I will give my grandchildren each a lollipop to suck on, and…” He gripped her hand, as he continued: …”and may be a harmless spanking once in a while.”

His humor touched and amused her.

When they finished eating, she helped her father up, but he beckoned to leave him, as he leaned heavily on his cane and walked toward the window, pleased to watch the rain outside, while being assured of a generous harvest.

(Chapter 1  (Part 1, to be continued)