Myanmar

A business development plan of the company gave me an opportunity to be part of a team to visit Rangoon (now Yangon), Burma (now Myanmar).The trip had an additional implication for me, personally.To take me back by 63 years in time for being the first from my family to revisit, connect with a city and a nation where my ancestors lived!My grand father and father, as well as a large fraternity of the near and dear ones lived in Burma for 20 long years only to flee in the end, to save their lives during the Japanese attack on Rangoon in December 1941.

Yes! My father, mother, brother, grandfather, grandmother and the collective large family unit of about fourteen people and a contingent of fathers maternal folks lived in Bhak Htaw (pronounced as bow toe) a suburb, off once-the-beautiful racecourse of Yangon. That was during the years 1921 to 1941 December.My grandfather was a very senior official in the Auditor Generals Office during the period when it was known to be RangoonProvince, coming under the British India Administration.He was the only child of a conservative Sastri the Iyer couple from Varakur (close to Arcot), in Tamil Nadu. He is said to have crossed the seas in search of greener pastures, when this was taboo.

Bred in Rangoon, my father was a registered Stock Market Broker doing extremely well. He married a typical Mylapore bred girl. The family seems to have prospered with all the luxuries.A large house, garden, a Ford SUV, a maharaj - Illahabadi brahman cook, and a gardener thatwas the large familys paraphernalia!

Bhak Htaw was notorious for a gang of dacoits. Our gardener is said to have been the leader of the gang, who was later transformed and retained in our garden by my grandfather. I am sure my grand father must have been more notorious of the two! A street existed in Bhak Htaw after my grandfather, known asSasayi Lan, meaning Sastri Lane!

The war did the final leveling. Among the millions who fled penniless for their lives, some of our family members also took the last steamer back to India while others made it the hard torturous walk back to India, along the jungle and treacherous swamps.Few did not reach their motherland. After the war, the Indians were unwelcome in Burma. The gangster-turned gardener in Bhak Htaw, Rangoon, had a major God sent role to play in the familys resettlement. He is said to have visited the Bhak Htaw house, collected small sums from large families who had taken shelter there, had the sum remitted back to Chennai for our family to restart life.

Our family finally settled in Pallavaram in mid-50. My father was known as Burma Iyer in Pallavaram, a suburb of Madras. How weird!

God created time as the best healer! It repaired and rehabilitated while also healing the family from the torment of the routing. Bad time does have a positive effect that it lets one perform the best in life, amidst adverse situations. We struggled and came up in life. We could now call ourselves as a typical middle, upper-middle class family in the social strata. Risen from the ashes of Burma war.But alas, it has also taken away our dear ones from this earth.The last 63 years has seen the demise of all the Bhak Htaw residents - my grandparents, parents, and two aunts. My paternal uncle in Delhi was able to give me all the dopes to make my Bhak Htawrediscovery.

While I was busy getting my official programmes and activities under check, I was also getting my data in place for my emotional trip, back to Rangoon (now Yangon).Armed with our archive pictures from the album of the old house and people, some faint description of the bearings, I set off to Yangon!

The old name for Rangoon was Dagon. Even while the British called it Rangoon, the local habitants always referred it as Yangon it meant a place free from fighting/quarrel!The Thai airline carrier landed in the Mingaladon airport. From the air, the place looked green and strewn with golden pagodas.Six months of incessant rain in Myanmar is a matter of great envy for a Chennai-ite!

The airports imposing tarmac building was gold glittering.It was also an easy immigration process. Travelers Cheques are a no no in Myanmar! And one is also advised not to convert dollars at the airport. There are three exchange systems prevailing in Myanmar. One gets better terms for dollar conversion at hotels or in the open market.

The city drive was cool, pleasant.The street did not show any visible evidence of a military regime.In fact, a Chennai-ite gets to see more uniformed men on a day when the CM is to drive off to the airport. Yangon was all peaceful, inviting and a mystical attraction.

Old imported cars are all over Yangon.These come off Japan as seconds, and is said to be put on hold now.These are mostly right-hand drive vehicles, following the right-hand lane rule. For Indians, we could get caught on the wrong foot, if we look to our right while crossing roads.One will then get hit! One must look to the left first. The city roads are free of two-wheelers, except for a few that are essentially Government staff vehicles. Two wheelers are banned within city limits. Cattle and Dairy Farms have also been sent miles away from city limits.So, the city dwellers rely only on condensed milk.

The most interesting thing was to see innumerable 1938-made buses ply in the city.These have stood the test of time.Barring the chassis and the steering, the impressive all-wood bright-green buses, carry loads of passengers, and are truly unique to Yangon. The locals are said to be smart fixers, to be able to refurbish engines and keep this antique, going.There is also another interesting fact about its tariff! While the government fixed rate is 20Kyats (pronounced as chats), from morning till 6 pm, the rates are double after sunset! So buses would be jam packed till 6 pm and would serve to be luxurious like a cab after that, so roomy for so few passengers.

But the greatest city culture is that there are no traffic rule-breakers, but 100% rule abiders in Yangon city.Traffic rules are very strict on lane change, stopping at signals, yellow line.Even at dead night, people obey rules, to save heavy fines and confiscation of the diving licence.The most pleasant news on our ears is that drivers nevernever honk.The road is so peaceful and free from road rage that is so prevalent in India.We have so much to learn from Yangon on road sense!!

Yangon has almost 5 to 6 cinema halls out of about 30, that screen Hindi cinema.Mostly new releases!Amitabh Bachhan is their all-time favourite too. The Burmese women love these films for the songs, colours, fashion/style and the romance.Burmese women are short, very fair and sport long fine hair that drops down like satin.Their face is well anointed with tanaka cream that protects their skin at all times.They spread it over their face like sandal face pack and go all over the place.Such sites are only common to us at Palani and Tirupati where sandal paste is anointed on the head after tonsure.

The cab drove me past the large InyaLake, past the city Aquarium and into the all-teak wood built, impressive Kandawgyi Palace Hotel. The towering palatial teakwood marvel of a hotel stood along the KandawgyiLake.The Burmese mythology has a swan like, equivalent to Indian Anna pakshi, known as Karawaik. A large impressive restaurant in golden finish stands on the water of this lake, and is a favourite place of tourists.

Burmese handiwork is visible in their exquisite woodcarvings, carpentry, cane work, cane and lacquer work.Teakwood is extensively used for floorings, ceilings, walls, and pillars as well as on arches and domes of the innumerable pagodas. They all have an inimitable design that is unique to the country.

With eighty percent of the population following Buddhism, Myanmar is the land of Pagodas and a GoldenLand.Every major thoroughfare leads into a Pagoda.The mighty and the ancient one is the Shwedagon Pagoda that is spread over 46 hectacres.It literally means the Golden place.Dating back to some over 2600 years, the pagoda has relics of Buddha. Towering at the center is the large golden dome, that stands some 326 feet (100 metres) tall, with golden umbrella weighing some 5 tons of gold having nearly 83,850 items as variety of jewellery.On top of this is the vane a flag-like golden ornate and holding the nearly 2 feet tall, golf-ball shaped diamond orb.The diamond orb has about 4351 diamonds about 1800 carats with the apex diamond alone being 76 carats!With many forms and postures of Buddha, the eight lords of directions and astrological figures around the pagoda, Shwedagon is an unforgettable experience of Yangon.

Burmese are early risers.The breakfast gets over from 5.30 to 6.30; lunch is over by 12 noon and by 6 pm, it is time for dinner!You cannot invite a local to lunch at 2 pm in Myanmar.That can be an insult!More so, they are great snackers and poor eaters. They would constantly have On Noe Khaut Swe, a broth of coconut milk, mixed with vegetables, fish or chicken, garnished with sauce, onion, ginger, garlic along with vermicelli or rice.This is an all-time snack of the day! Rice, sticky rice (steamed rice, soaked in coconut milk) along with dry prawn powder is their kind of idly and gun powder mix!Dosa, paranta/naan, and appam like dishis also a favourite dish borrowed from neighbouring nations.

Their tea session is a long drawn affair.A flask full of Burmese tea gets emptied with other accompaniment snacks, till the final, real tea-and-condensed milk-brew is served!

My work at the exhibition site had moments of long waiting- for infrastructure erection and equipments to arrive. Between these hours, I ventured on my tryst in search of our ancestral Bhak Htaw house.Bhak Htaw, an old suburb is now a few minutes away from the Yangon Trade Centre.

Key help and guidance came from Mr Joe Tun Sien - a Chennai based Burmese business contact whose roots are strong in Yangon. With his local friend Mr Myint Oo, we ventured out. We reached the Bhak Htaw market and began our inquiries of the Sasayi Lan, the old Indian and Tamil families, and houses that have stood over the past 7 to 8 decades.The pictorial old reference of the house could help us only a wee-bit to establish credibility in our very inquiry. Most of the street names have changed. Therefore, there was no street that had this name.

We came upon a Mr Verma. He was kind to guide and escort us to Mrs and Mr Khanna.Khanna-ji could recollect some of the names I uttered GRR and PVR. But unfortunately betaa, I am 84, now recovering from double typhoid, I am not keeping too well and am unable to cohesively think! he said.We knew that we had taxed him heavily.

Our next search led us to Vijayalakshmi who called me Annan.A Tamil, married and settled there, she has her own folks in Mylapore,Chennai! Speaking chaste Tamil, she took us around the main streets of Bhak Htaw, to locate the house. Most old houses were dilapidated and had innumerable families living in them. Some were Hindi-speaking families, scared that some genuine owners have returned to unsettle them. Many desolate homes, but those in good condition have been taken over by the Government and used as flats for its officials.

Vijayalakshmi thought it would be wise to see the local temple-pujari at the neighbouring Kambe.Shanmugam priest from the descendant trustees of the nearly 200-year-old Subramanya Swamy Temple of Kambe and his mother were pleased to help. If only my father was alive, he would have known your thatha! he exclaimed. My friend Joe had his bit of a pleasant surprise! The lady of the house knew Joes parents and had participated in their wedding! The temple was in fact built with contributions from his great grandfather whose old faded photograph still exists inside the temple premise!

We quickly visited the adjacent Kalyana Srinivasa Perumal Koil in Kambe. Yangon and places close by have plenty of Indian Temples Kamakshi, Ganesha, and HanumanTemples.On Shivaratri day, I was able to visit the over 200-year-old HanumanTemple where people came in cars and buses in large numbers.The city wore a festive look all through that night.

Joe, Vijayalakshmi and I took to walking along the railway tracks towards the Bauk Htaw railway station and exited from the ticket counter.The road outside and along the track seemed very sparingly used. We walked further till we hit upon an old large wooden gate, between two brick-and-mortar pillars, bearing the magical number 5. THAT WAS THE ANCESTRAL HOUSE! We tried matching it from the old sepia print photograph, seeing the house from different angles, between shrubs and the fencing. It surely was the same!

A lady with a large Labrador welcomed us. Joe briefed the lady in her mid 60s about me, the purpose of my visit and sought permission to come in, meet the present owners and talk to them.She let us in.We met Retired Brig Dennis Thompson, and his wife. They had bought the house in 1952 from a Chinese and have been living there since just the 3 of them! He is said to have been trained in Dehra Dun and also to have been the Military Attach in India for a short term.

I was told that the original owners reared cows.Yes.Our folks had cows in their large barn. We went around the 8-room house, a Baker style construction. No changes had been done on the house. Curry leaf plants, about 30 were growing all over the place. Mango trees, and a large garden did reflect the work of the dacoit-turned gardener. Malabar tile roofing, high false ceiling and two large hooks on the main hall-cum-dining for a traditional swing was typically Indian.

Visual evidence pronounced that this was the ancestral house.My inner self did confirm the same.With an awesome uncontrolled emotions running over me, I held myself tight. Feeling the place, smelling the environment, I drew a deep breath. I thanked the Thomsons profusely for their time and hospitality.