what we do not see

It was 3 in the morning, day 10 of MCO. The pandemic was on its rise. We woke up to prepare food for our family business of selling chicken rice at the local coffee shop. The lockdown started to hit us hard as the MCO continued.

“How are we going to survive this?” I stared into my husband’s eyes as he was prepping the chickens in the worn-down kitchen. Meng shrugged and resumed with his work quietly. Panic and frustration hit me like a truck as he gave me such a response.

“What are we going to feed our…”

Thump! “You think I’m not stressed out enough?” he raised his voice in fear, even the crickets fell silent for a second. He put down what he was doing and marched into my direction, “I know the situation quite well.” and grabbed my hand-woven cloth purse just to pour out its contents.

There were only sprinkles of small change and a couple of 1 ringgit notes.

That was it.

I cowered and picked up the money as Meng went off with his complaints and rants. A black and white photograph caught my eye in the scatter. It was a picture of me and my grandma, she was holding me lovingly in her firm arms despite being in the slumps of the 1998 recession. She was one of the strongest figure that I had known and her words reverberated in me with nostalgia and hope.

As Meng was venting his feelings into the air, I got up and pulled him into my embrace.

The morning fell silent again. “Don’t give up.” I whispered into his ears in Hokkien as tears rolled down my cheek. Meng apologised and we hugged tightly.

A sense of calmness and peace painted our worlds, we rose above the calamity with hope.

Photo credit by @key_to_kye. Show him some love by liking his posts or following him on Instagram. Amazing take by him!

P.S. Stay safe everyone.

Craving for more? Down below:
silently shouting
it’s been more than a week
Becoming Steve Jobs by Brent Schlender and Rick Tetzeli (Book Review)
Why Do I Still Write?
The Fault in Expectations
The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck by Mark Manson (Book Review)

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

12 thoughts on “what we do not see

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