Actually, it was quite a pleasant walk by the River Irrawaddy with Chit Khin. They left their monastery at five and now it was six. Soon sunset would follow. It wasn’t a matter of joke walking for an hour without any interruption, especially if one wasn’t used to walking for long. Win Thura hoped for a sound sleep at night. The idea came from Chit Khin. At first, he didn’t want to, but after a while, the idea seemed okay to him. A healthy physique ensures cheerful state of mind. Buddhism always emphasized this connection between the soul and the body. Meditation was the cornerstone of this religion because of this reason. Win Thura knew the importance of physical exercise for a healthy circulation, and of course, walking was one of the best ways for staying fit.
They stopped walking when they came to an iron bench. Both of them reclined on it. Win Thura’s tummy and part of his back was drenched in sweat. As Chit Khin was relatively younger and had the habit of strolling in the evening, Win Thura couldn’t notice any signs of exhaustion in him.
The tender beauty of Irrawaddy was most strikingly noticeable at this time of the day. Chit Khin smiled at Win Thura and said, “Dear mentor, how does it feel? Your robe is all wet!”
Like it used to do to most people, the serene beauty of Irrawaddy had a profound effect upon Win Thura’s mental composure. At first, he presented a refreshing smile to his disciple. Then he said, “Nirvana for our souls lies right here in nature. All we have to do is realize this truth and act accordingly.”After a brief pause, he resumed, “I feel like a feather, but my feet won’t agree. They feel like being frozen, especially in my thighs. Nevertheless, you’ve done me a great favor, Chit Khin. I must commend you for it.”
“Since my childhood I’ve had this habit of strolling. It changed with my arrival at your monastery. I’m thinking of reviving my old habit with the help of my mentor.”
“Your responsibilities are far fewer than mine. This is why you can afford to do it. In order to run a monastery, we have to take care of so many things, convince so many people. Apart from that, at least ten monasteries in this country rely on me for their daily requirements. Anyway, one needs to be physically fit to perform duties. Therefore, I’m grateful to you for your brilliant suggestion. Let us now return to our monastery.”
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During mealtime at night, Win Thura always avoided heavy food. He was in the habit of taking biscuits, a few chocolates and a cup of raw tea. It was followed by half an hour or an hour of meditation and recitation from the Holy Scripture. If there were visitors from other monasteries or temples, he would discuss with them a variety of issues before going to bed. However, that day he didn’t have any visitors. By nine in the evening, he was going to finish meditating and retire for the day. The entire evening, Chit Khin had been with him taking care of his mentor’s needs. Win Thura strolled for such a long time after years of lapses. Naturally, the effect of it was debilitating for him. Having noticed his difficulty in walking, Chit Khin moved forward to assist his mentor. Taking his mentor’s left arm around his neck, he helped Win Thura to walk to his private chamber. In his bed, WinThura felt like all his organs were shutting down one by one, just as the lights of a town did before midnight. At other times, Win Thura would latch the door from inside, but that day, he forgot to do it. The moment he remembered his failure, he mentioned it to his disciple. Chit Khin reassured his mentor that before leaving he was going to pull the door from outside, so there was no need for his mentor to step down from his bed. Upon saying so, he began massaging his mentor’s legs. Already fatigue had permeated through each and every vein Win Thura possessed. When his disciple touched his legs, within seconds he was in a deep slumber.
The displaced Rohingyas became impatient. From their irritating expressions, one could clearly sense it. The caravan waited till three in the afternoon. Still, there was no sign of Karim and his companions returning. Most of the Rohingyas had been insisting that they resumed their journey. Hamid would not say anything, indicating that he wanted to wait. He looked at the time in his mobile. It was three. It meant, instead of one hour, they waited two hours for Karim and his companions. Suddenly, from the rear of the caravan, suppressed noise of people talking reached their ears. One of the youths who had accompanied Karim to rescue the apprehended girls came forward through the crowd. The crowd learned from him that the girls had been rescued. The para-military forces employed them to clean the toilets and to assist the cook in the camp kitchen.
Karim spoke with the camp commander when he and his companions had reached the camp. The camp commander released the girls, but in their places, he detained Karim and his men. Most probably they would be given the tasks the girls were supposed to do.
Hamid looked at his uncle. The signs of utter disappointment and frustration were clearly visible in his appearance. Rahim took a deep breath and said, “You go ahead with the caravan, for a while, I’ll wait here for my son.”
“Uncle, you can’t do that. You’re an old man. You’ll get lost and then be in danger. I don’t think they are going to release Karim, so it won’t be wise for you to wait. Together, we should head for the border. If destiny has it for you, you’ll get back your son.”
Rahim had always been a man of logic. He never entertained the habit of opposing what was reasonable. Therefore, reluctantly he beckoned to Hamid to lead the caravan, and then dragged his feet in order to follow his nephew.