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Saturday, October 29, 2022

“Two puppets in a Chinese temple in Brickfields can move by themselves,” Sifu Sabrina says. “View them at night if you dare and for good luck.”

Sifu Sabrina slides her hands out of her pockets. “Want to see puppets that can move by themselves?” Eyes brightening, she chugalugs her beer, reaches into the bowl on the coffee table between us and scoops out some nachos.

“Haunted puppets?” My whisky-addled eyes span wider. “Sheesh! What for? No benefit at all, why ask for trouble?” My gaze hopscotches from Sifu Sabrina’s face to the nearby bartender and I wave a gnarled hand at him. He sends another glass of whisky with a waitress.

Seated in a booth, Sifu Sabrina and I are indulging in a casual chat and a noggin in a bistro in Bukit Bintang.  Various smells are hovering, trapped in the air— burnt steak, freshly ovened cake, stale spilled beer, the lively smell of jasmine from Sifu Sabrina’s perfume. In the far end of the hall, a gigantic TV set on a wall chuckles. 

“No, not haunted by ghosts but a benevolent deity.” A grin inches across Sifu Sabrina’s face and her dimples deepen with the lift of a smile. “Caishen, the God Wealth, and his wife.” Her legs peer out from the hem of her dress, which clings to her like a nightgown. A red-striped panty clasps her groin like a lecherous hand.

My body snaps upright. “Wow, in that case, I want to!” I feel the muscles in my throat ripple from excitement. “I wanna ask him for lottery numbers.”

Sifu Sabrina rests her hands on her thighs. “I knew you would say that!”  Tiny fingernails glisten like slivers of mica in the tips of her slender fingers. “Go to Sam Kow Tong Temple in Brickfields.  There’re two wooden string puppets in the first-floor altar at the back of the building.  They’re inhabited by the spirit of Caishen and his wifey."  Sifu Sabrina fills her mouth with nachos and studies my face while she chews. "These puppets are more than a hundred years old. They were originally used in a Chinese opera to depict the life of Caishen and his wife when he was a mortal during the Shang Dynasty." She takes a swallow and another hit of her beer, causing a hint of wobble in the luscious line of her throat. “Years later, the owner of the puppets noticed they had a life of their own when they were not in use.” She raps the frosted mug on the table and licks one corner of her mouth.  “He consulted a Taoist medium who said that the spirits of Caishen and Mrs Caishen had inhabited the puppets.  The owner got sort of scared and donated the puppets to the temple for worshipping."  She takes her cell phone from her tote bag, taps at it and shows me the screen. "These are the puppets.”

“Gee, they look spooky," I rasp, my heart battering the walls of my chest.

“Nowadays, statues of Caishen depict him as a pleasant-looking bearded man but that’s not his real image.”  With a fold of her arms, Sifu Sabrina leans back in her seat. “Olden days, paper effigies of Caishen portrayed him with a long tongue, wears a tall hat and he carries a paper fan—he was horrible-looking.  In fact, even today, some old temples still depict him as such. And the deity was popularly worshipped by massage-parlour owners.”  She crosses her legs at the knees and jiggles one foot for a few beats. “Mediums in a Caishen trance would sniffle because the deity is an opium addict and suffers from withdrawal symptoms. He was also a drinker. Clients—lottery-number seekers— often brought cigarettes spiked with opium and also Guinness stout for the deity to consume. And several Caishen mediums became opium addicts.”  

I return the cell phone to Sifu Sabrina. “Did you see the puppets move when you took this photo?” She drops it into her tote bag.

 “Nope, I did not have such luck.” Sifu Sabrina’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “But I wish you best of luck when you visit the temple. There’s this awesome saying associated with Caishen: yi jian facai! [   发财]”.

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