Episode #197: Revolutionary Poetry
“From incarcerating the masses
to incinerating villages,
now they have moved on
to cutting off heads.
Hell isn’t a thousand leagues underground.
Hell is here.
On this earth.
In this land I call home.”
Introducing the work of Sai, a poet better known by his Instagram handle, When the Padauk Blooms. Through his verses, Sai adeptly articulates his emotions and reflects on the ever-evolving situation in Myanmar. In fact, several episodes of the Insight Myanmar Podcast have opened with Sai reciting his compositions.
“I grew up in a very traditional, conservative family,” he says. “I'm mostly ethnically Chinese, with a little bit of Shan from my dad's side. Despite that, my family didn't practice Chinese folk religion. We were devoted Theravada Buddhists. And we still are, especially my mother.” This interest in Buddhist practice is what first drove Sai to find our podcast feed from its earliest days, and he relayed that our discussions about meditation have inspired his practice.
Just as Insight Myanmar came to cover the revolution, so also did Sai’s revolutionary spirit began to flow out through poetry. He became influenced by such figures as William Blake, especially the latter’s 1791 work, The French Revolution. “You could say it's a coping mechanism for me in a way,” he explains. “I felt an emotion that I truly have never felt before. There was a mix of confusion and an anger and frustration. Honestly, I can no longer keep up with the countless lives the regime has taken away from us! It's scary because these tragedies are somehow becoming normalized.”
Like many Burmese now, Sai’s Buddhist background had to find a way to negotiate with the horrific, current realities. “I believe those who practice Vipassana, insight meditation, know that feelings are just feelings, and they can't really bother you unless you choose to cling to them. In a sense, my practice and everything that's happening in Myanmar are always clashing! And sometimes it gets overwhelming. That's how poetry helps me, to turn something that I love into a place that I could take refuge in.”
Sai left Myanmar when he was sixteen to go to school in Bangkok, and he currently lives in Taipei. Having an identity, in part, of the Burmese diaspora, he understands the challenges that brings, and knowing that words have power, Sai writes both for himself and others in the diaspora who are similarly trying to keep up a positive morale despite feeling despair, and even hopeless.
As a poet, Sai is aware that he is following the well-trodden path of a respected cultural genre in his country. “Poets are the backbone of Burmese society,” he notes. He vehemently expresses his shock and disbelief that the military regime has been targeting and killing the great poets who speak out against the regime, out of apparent callousness and insecurity. “This dictatorship is truly horrific, just on another level than all the previous dictatorships,” he says. “Our freedom to do basically anything has been stripped away, and our voice as well! So in a way, I also wanted to pay homage to the fallen poets and all the poets who are still in hiding in Myanmar and writing poems.”
Sai speaks of a kind of “generational trauma” that has touched every Burmese family in some way or another through the tumultuous history of the last half century. As an example, he cites his grandfather surviving the 1967 anti-Chinese riots that General Ne Win instigated, and later participating in the 1988 democracy movement. “I do not want that for my children or grandchildren, to bear [the trauma in] the same way that me, my parents, and grandparents [have had to],” he says. “I don't want them to live in exile forever and forget about their identity!”
Sai is also distressed that the military regime has manipulated Buddhist teachings to advance their nationalistic agenda and justify their violence. To him, these precious resources are meant just as a guide to inner peace and compassion! But while the military had been more successful in fooling people before by distorting the Buddha’s teachings for their own ends, Sai now sees a population won’t fall for the same trick twice. “It’s heartwarming to see that everyone is fighting for inclusivity. We are reminding ourselves that we're not just fighting for Bamar people, but we're fighting for unity,” he says. “It has become clear that what we experienced in the past was all propaganda! In order for change to happen, we have to be more open minded and aware and put everything into the equation.”
Sai continues to post his online poetry as the conflict rages on. “I am completely aware of my privilege,” he acknowledges. “I have a roof above my head. I don't have to worry about breakfast or lunch. So I feel like it's a civic responsibility for me to speak out, because I have a voice, and many of us in Myanmar don't! There has been silence, and I have this duty to speak out, no matter what I have to sacrifice, my time and energy, and put as much effort as I can into the revolution. My role is spreading awareness. That's number one. The second thing, I try to ensure that the international community doesn’t abandon us, because I feel like the world has completely shut us out and left us to fend for ourselves. My role would be reaching out, and letting people know, just please don't give up on us! I know that the news, and what's happening in Myanmar has lost momentum in international news. So that's what I hope for, and that's what I'm trying to accomplish.”
Sai writes:
“The baton has been passed,
yet again, in this race for freedom.
And with every fallen track star,
the weight of the stick grows heavier.
But I know one thing.
This relay has an end.
So until then we keep running.”