Back in my childhood, there was two things I was most interested in during
Thadingyut. First is to pay our respects to the elders with foods and dresses bought with the savings from our pocket money.
Then, we wait eagerly for their long blessings to end to say, “May your blessings be fulfilled.” And the next most interesting thing is waiting for the pocket money Grandma took out from her under-vest. Sometimes, we even lost our capital but it doesn’t matter. We were very happy.

The second was to let loose of the small hot-air ballon . We saved our money to buy one. We do everything we can to make ours fly. Many times we had to buy a new one because the old one burned down. My habbit is to attach small amount of money to the balloon. I feel satisfied when the balloon flew up after many troubles. It was a pleasure I can’t exchange with anything; the pleasure to watch till the balloon flew out of sight.

When watching that, I thought to myself many times, “What if my balloon run out of fuel and fall somewhere? What if it falls on a house and starts a fire? What kind of people will get my money? I hope only those in need will get it.”

As a rebellious teen, I wanted to leave the bounds of my house and live freely. I tired many times to leave. I wanted to live independently and face everything that comes in my way. The desire for new experiences, freedom, and challenges makes me ignorant of my mom’s worries,
“What if my balloon run out of fuel and fall somewhere? What if it falls on a house and starts a fire? What kind of people will get my money? I hope only those in need will get it.”

Right now, I had flown as high as a hot-air balloon. I had incidents of almost burning down. I had gone with the wind.
I had lived wherever the currents carried me. But I have forgotten the place called home I flew away from. Also is gone my mom who was always worried about me.

Don’t worry now mom. You can rest assured now. No one has burnt because of me. I always put the well being of others first. The money you have attached is in good hands. I am always helping other. But I don’t know where I started from anymore. I genuinely don’t. The place I hvae called home is no more. Now, it is just an image in my mind. Just a glimpse of a place I have take refuge in.

Now, I just humed the tune of Htoo Eain Thin’s song, “Want to go home, hooo. Mom’s peaceful home”, and missed my now gone mom and home.

We are doing whatever we can right now and missing home and mom.

Htet Myat (CDM)

Translated to English by Anynoumus