(A reflection on writing, thought, and human complexity)
It is one of history’s quiet ironies that the late U Thein Pe Myint — a famous Burmese journalist, novelist, and politician known for his ultranationalist and often Islamophobic views — once had as his first teacher a Muslim, U Haroon (ဆရာဟာရွန်း).
U Haroon, despite living in a time when Muslims were a small minority in Burmese society, was respected as a master of language and composition. His teachings shaped some of the most prominent writers of modern Burmese literature — including those who would later, paradoxically, promote exclusionary ideas against the very community from which he came.
Yet it is not the politics but the pedagogy of U Haroon that deserves remembrance. Among his students, his lesson on “flow” — the natural rhythm and continuity in writing and speech — became legendary.
The River and the Sentence
U Haroon used to say that good writing must have စဉ်ဆက်စီးဆင်းမှု — a smooth flow, like the current of the Chindwin River.
Just as the river runs without interruption from its source to its end, so too must ideas in a piece of writing move steadily, one after another, without abrupt jumps or disconnections.
A paragraph must grow naturally out of the one before it; a sentence must link smoothly with the next. Writing that jerks back and forth, he warned, tires the reader’s mind just as a rider grows weary on a horse that keeps turning in circles.
Flow, he taught, does not appear by accident. It must be built through discipline, rearrangement, and revision.
From Notes to Narrative
The process begins with jotting down ideas as they arise — often scattered and unorganized. These first notes are like rough stones taken from a riverbed: unshaped, uneven, but valuable.
Next comes the craft of arrangement — moving what belongs at the start to the front, what should come later to the end, and discarding what does not serve the central message. Only then does the flow of thought become natural and powerful.
This, said U Haroon, is the true art of composition: the transformation of scattered ideas into a living stream of meaning.
Writing and Speaking — Two Different Rivers
For U Haroon, the rule of flow applied equally to speech.
He taught that a good speaker must also learn to organize thoughts before uttering them — to see the order mentally as clearly as a writer sees it on paper.
Writing, he said, is merciful: you can revise, rearrange, and polish.
Speech is not. Once spoken, words cannot be taken back or reshaped. Therefore, one must practice mental composition — the ability to think in ordered sequence, so that even in conversation or debate, thoughts flow logically and persuasively.
The Structure of a Living Essay
A well-formed piece has a beginning, a middle, and an end — not as mere labels but as organic parts of one body.
Each paragraph carries one main idea, supported by sentences that develop or clarify it. Paragraphs should not be divided merely to look neat; every division must serve understanding.
When this structure is followed, the reader is gently guided from the first line to the last — feeling the movement of thought like a steady current.
Additional Principles for Good Writing
To extend U Haroon’s timeless teaching, we may add several other principles that make both writing and speaking memorable:
- Clarity above all – Avoid pretentious or heavy words. The goal is not to impress but to communicate.
- Unity of purpose – Keep one clear idea throughout. Do not wander.
- Balance logic and feeling – Facts convince; emotions move. Use both.
- Revise without mercy – Writing is rewriting. Cut what weakens.
- Respect your audience – Lead them gently; do not assume they know what you know.
- Listen to rhythm – Read aloud what you write. If it sounds awkward, it reads awkward too.
- End with meaning – A good ending should not just close the piece; it should complete it.
Irony and Legacy
That U Thein Pe Myint — who later became a harsh critic of Muslims — once learned language and logic from a Muslim teacher is a reminder of a deeper truth.
Knowledge transcends the walls that prejudice builds.
Wisdom, like a river, flows across boundaries of religion, race, and time.
The “flow” U Haroon taught was not only about words but about mindfulness and continuity — the discipline of thought that keeps one’s ideas, and perhaps one’s conscience, from becoming stagnant.
If we learn to let our ideas flow — ordered, honest, and compassionate — perhaps we can also allow understanding to flow between our communities.
That, too, would be a lesson worthy of U Haroon’s classroom.
Credit: ျမန္မာစကားေျပ · မြန်မာစကားပြေ ·
[ သိန်းဖေမြင့်]
{ ကျွန်တော်၏အချစ်ဦး}
သင်ကြားပေးခြင်း 
