My thoughts returned to Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw unexpectedly tonight, yet that is often the nature of such things.

Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book left beside the window for too long. Moisture has a way of doing that. I lingered for more time than was needed, separating the pages one by one, and in that stillness, his name reappeared

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