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Record of the Red Rose |
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When I paid my condolences, he had already left this world. After wards I wrote this short poem in the condolence book. I called it "Generation of Flowers". The bud is yet to bloom Inferior to
the wind Friendship is based on mutual love and kindness but our relationship was very different. I knew him well but he didn't know me at all. We regarded him as our intimate friend and, even more than that, our closest colleague but he was out of our reach. We imagined his portrait with knowledge acquired through stories we heard. Some expressed images of his student life. Some demonstrated his character. Gradually his image became alive in our senses and thoughts. However, we still waited for a chance to meet this unseen man and to hear his brave words. He was respected because of his goodness.
One of his attributes was his strong spirit. I thought back on my friend's words: As a man, one has an ability to divine what is right and wrong, choose what to believe and take a stand. You must try to be strong and accomplish what you stand for and believe in. My friend had this ability. He suffered miserably for his beliefs but he never gave up. He firmly held his political beliefs until he died. He was one of the Rangoon Organizing Committee members of the National League for Democracy (NLD). When the 1990 election was held in Burma, he ran as a Member of Parliament for his native constituency. At that time, his opposition was his older brother, who ran for the National Unity Party (NUP), which was regarded as an opposition party to the NLD. This proved that he stood for what he believed in as traditionally the younger brother must respect the elder. "U Tin Maung Win was dead. Today his
corpse was viewed." We sat down under the Kou Kou tree to take shelter from the glaring sun. The seats we used were old bricks from collapsed tombs. We looked at the mortuary located diagonally from us. The crematorium that ate everything put into its mouth without consideration was located opposite the mortuary. Once, living people and students were forced into its mouth. Unfortunately it did not discriminate between the dead and the living. I wondered how hot the flame was inside the crematorium, and if it could match the intensity of our feeling. Even though we were under the shadow of the Kou Kou tree, each of us felt on fire with grief. Human beings' life is strange but the world is stranger than that. The definition of a cemetery is an edifice or stately building for remembering those who have passed away. However, it is more than this. Like a museum, a cemetery holds the knowledge of people and events from the past. Bo Aung Kyaw, a student leader who was killed by the British government in a peaceful demonstration in 1936, Bahmaw Tin Aung, a famous writer and a veteran politician, Thakhin Mya Than, also a famous writer and political leader, and the first elected Burmese prime minister U Nu and so on. All of their tombstones were there, not to mention the unaccountable martyrs' souls that dwelled and were enshrined in it. We, a group of seven peo ple, knew nothing of U Tin Maung Win's fate. Therefore, sometimes we sat down on the brick tombs and waited for news. Sometimes we asked the caretaker of the mortuary whether our hero's dead body had been brought in or not. Sometimes we looked around inside the cemetery as if we were children in a museum. It felt as if we were practicing unperpetuity religious meditation. More than this, we routinely heard the sound of buses and people crying from other funeral processions. It was 4 pm. A few people remained. At that time, we noticed that we were the only people still there and we were under surveillance by the Military Intelligence (MI). But we had no other way but to face this danger. Cannot Placate
Ko Daw Hmaing 2. Oh. Ah Pho... the histories became rude.. Thakhin Aung San 3.. Oh, Ah-pha.. the state has been stained with blood... Oh.. dare to accomplish.. The corpses are in the street..)2 Solo: (Oh, our brothers.. flowing blood in the street are not dry yet.. Don't hesitate.. like our heroes.. who passed away in the democratic combat.. We will revolt distinctly..)2 Our patriotic martyrs... That defiant sound drifted through Kyantaw cemetery. Carrying unseen grief, the melody touched our hearts and gave us the strength to stoically endure our suffering. This was not only the funeral of a martyr but also a miserable example of military dictatorship. Whether we believed it or not; our hero was dead. When we were under imperialism, we could see vividly who was the imperialist or the pro-imperialist. Now people are being treated very brutally by their own flesh and blood. Though the junta can break the body, they cannot break a patriotic spirit. Look! While military intelligence personnel watched and placed many obstacles in our path, the anger of the students and youth exploded in the form of revolutionary song while we carried the coffin. Carrying the memorial wreath, we marched to the crematorium before the coffin. We put the coffin on our shoulders instead of using the cart. Soon the flame would eat our hero's corpse. I thought even though he might disappear physically, his spirit and soul would float withthe smoke produced from the chimney into the air and watch the world from the sky. "Please do not cry honey, my father dislikes crying. Therefore we don't cry. I request that you don't cry for him." When I heard these words, I felt deeply upset. U Tin Maung Win's daughter said this to a woman who was crying for her father. Yes! I thought to myself. I will not cry for him. He lived a revolutionary life. We, the people who are still alive, have to march on to our common goal. Instead of crying we must raise our utmost forces. He died in prison a short time after he was arrested. The authorities announced that he died of blood cancer. In reality, he was killed by cancer. However, it was not blood cancer but authoritarian cancer. Suddenly I saw one phrase on the memorial wreath: Fallen star--- Caused by cancer--- Down with the cancer! Our guiding star fell down to a place far away from us but still burns brightly. Naturally, flowers: Are ready to impregnate the world with smell. Are ready to decorate the world with color. Unfortunately, some flowers might be spoiled before they can bloom. This can happen for various reasons but not every bud is destroyed. It is nature's law. When a flower falls down. Note about the title: In Burmese culture, the red rose symbolizes those who sacrifice themselves for the sake of the people. The above is dedicated to U Tin Maung Win who passed away in Insein prison on January 18, 1991.
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| U Tin Maung Win who passed away in Insein prison on January 18, 2001. |
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About the Author After the nation wide demonstration he joined the National League for Democracy party (NLD). He was detained by Military Intelligence in 1997 for his political activities. In 1998 he was detained again for a period of nearly one year. In 2001 he left Burma for security reasons. Now he is working as a member for the AAPP and also writes articles for exile publications in Thailand. |
