It wasn't my intention to dwell on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, but that is typically how these reflections emerge.

The smallest trigger can bring it back. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together while I was browsing through an old book placed too near the window pane. Moisture has a way of doing that. My pause was more extended than required, separating the pages one by one, and his name emerged once more, silent and uninvited.There is a peculiar

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