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A Tiffin Carrier's Secrets

The Weight of What We Hide

By Michelle Liew Tsui-LinPublished about a year ago β€’ Updated about a year ago β€’ 2 min read
A Tiffin Carrier's Secrets
Photo by 360floralflaves on Unsplash

The Peranakans are a unique community among the Chinese in Singapore--one I am a proud part of. Older generations of Peranakans grew up speaking a mix of Malay and English--the younger ones like myself add Chinese to the list.

As with any community, it has signature cuisine---kaya kueh (Egg jam on top of sticky rice) and Buah Keluak (chicken cooked with buah keluak, a fruit unique to this region.

Since we are in the fall, I thought to season it with my community's flavour.

And a tiffin carrier (shown in the beginning pic) that it used to carry its dishes with.

What is within--is hidden.

The weight of what we hide breaks spirits.

Ayam Buah Keluak (Chicken cooked with a black fruit known as the Buah Keluak)

🧺🍎πŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§ΊπŸ§ΊπŸŽπŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§Ί

Women in traditional Peranakan costumes

It was the go-to event the Peranakans in Jalan Nonya went to each September---it brought everyone out of their houses. Kaya Kueh was the showcase, and the neighbours fought for the sweet potato pudding that could turn saliva into long, crystalline earrings.

The kueh made September just that bit sweeter.

Togetherness and a smorgasbord. A hall that brimmed with tiffin carriers, nonya dishes and neighbourly banter. The fruitful yield was laid out on long tables for all to see.

Then, the Kweks arrived with a tiffin carrier.

One that was---

Out-of-place.

Photo by Singapore Stock Photos on Unsplash

🧺🍎πŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§ΊπŸ§ΊπŸŽπŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§Ί

Laid out in front of everyone was a treat for the palate--and for the eyes.

But the Kweks' late arrival hooked some gazes.

That and their---

Unusual---

Tiffin carrier.

Shrouded in a dirty muslin cloth, heavier than it should be.

Kaya Kueh

🧺🍎πŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§ΊπŸ§ΊπŸŽπŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§Ί

Too heavy.

So laden that it started to shift.

And bulge.

With something that folded---

In small, strange movements.

Out of each layer.

But large enough to generate discomfited murmurs.

Then the bulges grew.

Along with a sudden, deathly silence.

🧺🍎πŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§ΊπŸ§ΊπŸŽπŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§Ί

The Babas (men) and Nonyas (women)remained silent, caught by the sight.

For a long moment, no one dared touch the tiffin carrier.

But waited.

And waited.

The tiffin carrier sat, and so did the townsfolk's unease.

The table sagged with the weight of the feast--

Completely untasted.

It wasn't what was in the tiffin carrier that mattered-- it was the spirit that broke.

🧺🍎πŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§ΊπŸ§ΊπŸŽπŸ₯–πŸ§ΊπŸ πŸ₯§πŸ§ΊπŸ‡πŸ₯’πŸ§Ί

Original story by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

For Mikeydred's Song of Seven Challenge

HorrorPsychological

About the Creator

Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin

Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.

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    Written by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin