The Merry Month of May That Was (Part 2)

Blue Buddha (photo: Jaap Buys)

Lumbar puncture or spinal tap

During his first night in the Hospital Putrajaya ICU a lumbar puncture had been conducted on Ahau to get a sample of his cerebrospinal fluid, so they could test for meningitis. I was glad my boy was still under heavy sedation.

Early the next morning, I looked in on Ahau to see that he was awake but groggy and confused. His hands and feet had been strapped to the bed to stop him from pulling out his intravenous drip and ventilation tube. The doctors reported that his respiration pattern was swiftly normalizing and that the tube could soon be removed. They kept him on oxygen to ease his breathing as there was a slight swelling of his throat lining caused by abrasions the previous day when he was being intubated.

Heiko & Selina Niedermeyer, master healers

By midday when Mary returned with Anoora, Ahau was strong enough to struggle against his bonds. He only calmed down if Mary kept well out of sight. 

In the afternoon four friends visited – Heiko and Selina, accompanied by Robin and Michelle. As it was past visiting hours, only two were allowed into the ICU. Robin and Michelle opted to wait in the lobby while I accompanied Heiko and Selina to the ICU where they immediately began working on him by softly singing the medicine Buddha mantra, followed by one mala of the Dorje Gotrab (composed by the great guru Padmasambhava himself).

Ahau responded positively to the soft melodious chanting. I noticed he instantly calmed down and at one point touched Selina’s hand with his head, as if to thank her. This is what I shared on facebook:

Last night, Mary Maguire had trouble sleeping (understandably) so she did the Blue Buddha meditation to calm & center herself. Suddenly she felt reconnected through the heart with Ahau, who had been adrift in the astral while his physical form lay inert under massive sedation. She visualized placing a Blue Buddha upon his head, then finally fell asleep. And this afternoon Heiko & Selina, our beloved healer friends, showed up at the hospital and chanted (more like sang) a Blue Buddha mantra by Ahau's bedside for 20 minutes. He at first struggled to get up, then he focused clear, penetrating looks at each of us (I sensed an inscrutable smile twinkling at me as tiny teardrops welled up in the corners of his intense eyes). 

We were undisturbed the whole time the soft singing/chanting went on. I closed my eyes momentarily & saw Ahau at the center of a lotus unfolding its petals in infinitely expanding ripples, spreading from the room to infinity. Later as we left the ICU, Selina told me she saw Ahau sitting totally naked with eyes closed in lotus position while a Blue Buddha in his heart emanated healing blue light in every direction & dimension. I was delighted to note that both Mary & Selina had independently conjured the Blue Buddha in their mind's eye.

Facebook played a major rôle in Ahau’s rapid recovery. While he was being attended to by medics at the KKB emergency room, I posted this status update:

A surreal & terrifying day. Ahau had fits & is now under sedation. Not your typical Sunday. Will accompany him to whichever hospital in KL he's taken. Please help visualize him back in fine form soon, thanks.

Within minutes my timeline was flooded with supportive responses from friends and strangers near and far. Indeed, facebook was the crucial link between Ahau, Mary and me - and the rest of the world. Friends immediately included Ahau in their thoughts and prayers - and many happen to be human angels and powerful healers connected to healing circles around the planet. By updating them via facebook, I was keeping them energetically linked to Ahau. 

An intubated & heavily sedated Ahau being transferred by ambulance to Selayang Hospital

This note was posted on May 27th:

On the mundane plane it has been distressing to watch helplessly as Ahau assumes the role of a trapped bird in the medical Matrix. The horror of hospitals has been magnificently mitigated by the compassion, helpfulness, competence, dedication to duty & humanity we have encountered every step of the long road from Kg Pertak to Putrajaya Hospital. He cannot comprehend why he has awoken to being strapped to a strange bed, surrounded by electronic blips, with tubes sticking out of his wrists. Whenever he senses the presence or sees a familiar being his impulse is to sit up & escape from this weird nightmare where he is utterly powerless. When he finds himself bound like a contemporary Prometheus, his heartbeat triples & he becomes enraged, Any free, unformatted spirit would react likewise to waking up on a Prison Planet!

A thoughtful Ahau contemplates life from Bed 17, Ward 4A, Hospital Putrajaya

And yet, on the transcendental planes, everything is unfolding as it should & must, The shock of witnessing the sudden & unexpected system crash of our beloved Bunyip Ahau Ben has only magnified a millionfold our love for this exasperating yet utterly adorable being & our gratitude for being his closest buddies. Within a minute of my posting word of Ahau being unwell, pure heart love began funneling in from all directions through digital portals. It was overwhelming & uplifting at the same time. Regardless of friend or stranger, humans somehow always rise to the occasion, we were poignantly reminded.

Mei Watson, wounded healer

On the afternoon of May 27th, more friends arrived at Putrajaya Hospital offering help. Mei Watson, my wounded healer buddy, came with a whole set of essential oils which she proceeded to apply on Ahau, who responded very well to her tender ministrations. Shortly afterwards, two more soul-buddies showed up: Gerald Wee and Joel Low, both regular visitors at Magick River, had come to my rescue in January 2010 while I was tied to my bed in Sungai Buloh Hospital and freed me from my bonds, thereby breaking the spell and facilitating my discharge a few days later.

Gerald Wee, master of dragon chi

Gerald Wee comes from a shamanic lineage and works with dragon energy. He simply stood near Ahau and immersed him in a pristine and primordial energy field, supporting Mei Watson’s work with essential oils. While they were there, word came that Ahau was to be transferred to a normal ward. It was heartening to see Ahau out of the Intensive Care Unit and in a more relaxed room with a view.

Mary and Anoora arrived later with Ahau’s laptop and a magazine, which considerably perked him up. But he still had no desire to eat solids and was even refusing water. At least he no longer required oxygen and his hands and feet were free, so he could be helped to the toilet, a big step towards full recovery.

My beloved rinpoche, Ahau Ben, exploring the astral while fast asleep

PART 3

The Merry Month of May That Was (Part 1)

Star Commander Lee Ahau Ben Anoor-Antares in 2004

It was Bob Dylan’s 73rd birthday. My artist-astrologer friend Melissa Lin had invited me to dinner at Rimbun Dahan where she was on a 4-month residency. Met up with a few dear friends and renewed my acquaintance with the hospitable Hijjas family. Decided to continue to Bandar Utama where some young friends were hosting an open mic session at Paradox Café. We had a jolly jam session; met up with two old friends and made a few new ones. Got home around 3:30am and, as usual, didn’t get to bed till around 6:00. Heard my Vandalusian songbird Ahau Ben chirping merrily away. The sun wasn’t even up but my only begotten son was already at his laptop, doing his YouTube routine. It was a cheerful sound to fall asleep to.

Ahau asleep on 12 October 2012

Sunday, May 25th, 2014, around 11am: rudely awoken by Mary Maguire screaming at the top of her lungs, I grabbed my sarong and rushed over next door to find Ahau on the floor, having just puked on the mat. He looked wild-eyed and frightened and his hands were like claws. Mary said she had popped in from the kitchen a minute ago to find Ahau’s eyes unfocused and his fingers rigid. Thinking it might be an epileptic fit (though he has no previous history of that) she put him into recovery position on the floor so he wouldn’t swallow his tongue and suffocate.

As I knelt down and immersed him in my energy field, Ahau vomited again and his body went into spasms. While I whispered star language in his ears, Mary picked up the phone and called 999, hands trembling. She managed to keep calm as the police operator began interrogating her with absolutely no sense of urgency instead of passing her call to the nearest ambulance service. Finally, she got through to the KKB District Hospital and they said an ambulance would be despatched. Bonzo Dog came running in and sniffed Ahau all over, nudging him with his canine nose. He seemed as concerned as both Mary and me.

Anoora just looked dazed. I got her to take my place beside Ahau and ran back to put on some clothes. There’s nothing more nerve wracking than for a parent to contemplate the possibility of losing a child. True, I view life and death differently than most people and have never been inclined to wallow in grief and misery - always opting for the most inclusive, most all-embracing, and the most uplifting perspective.

Jolly joy boy Ahau Ben

Indeed, when Ahau was only 7 a psychic friend had warned me that Ahau may not survive long past puberty; that he had come on a specific mission and when he was done he would simply leave. I deeply resented hearing that but nonetheless took on it board.

In December 2010 when my beloved canine son Roger Reginald Putra was brutally murdered by a demonically possessed Orang Asli, probably for chasing after his motorbike, I was utterly grief-stricken. Imagine how much worse it would be to lose a human offspring.

Seeing Ahau in that scary state, not knowing the cause or outcome, I was prepared for any eventuality - but decided unequivocally that I would opt for our darling son to stick around, no matter what difficulties may arise around his “disabilities” and his almost complete dependency on others. It was a pivotal moment that brought into clear focus the totality and unconditionality of my love for that very special boy.

The ambulance arrived and we had to carry the unconscious Ahau down two flight of steps in his duvet because they had no stretchers with body straps. It’s a 12-minute drive to the KKB District Hospital but that ambulance was so horribly bumpy I was compelled to mention it to the attendant who said the problem was that the Health Ministry bought goods vans and converted them - instead of ordering customized ambulances with high-grade suspensions. “We are the ones who use these vehicles every day but nobody bothered to ask our opinion,” he confided.

Mary and Anoora arrived at the Emergency Room shortly afterwards while Ahau was being stabilized by the hospital assistants. Knowing the situation was no longer in our hands, I calmed down and held the beam for those attending to Ahau who appeared on the verge of another fit. They sedated him but his body resisted it and they increased the dosage. Finally the doctor had to switch to ketamine to knock him out so they could intubate him.

A bit of an overgrown baby

I kept popping into the emergency room to see if they had finished but the procedure took a long time. Dr Sashi explained that he had problems inserting the tube down Ahau’s throat. “I’ve never seen anyone with vocal cords like his,” the young doctor said. “One in a million!”

No wonder Ahau has had difficulty with human speech and opts to emit an incredible range of birdlike or dolphinlike sounds when he isn’t speaking his own take on human languages, Gobbledygook.

The KKB District Hospital isn’t equipped to handle any but the most routine of medical situations. Dr Sashi began phoning around to see which big hospital would admit Ahau. Incredibly, every ICU bed in hospitals within 2 hours of KKB was occupied, but Ahau was sent to Selayang Hospital anyway, in the hope that a bed in the ICU would become available when he arrived.

Ahau at 2: a very cheerful baby who loved water

Another bumpy ambulance ride, though minimally better than the first, and we were at the Selayang Hospital emergency and trauma ward, where the heavily sedated Ahau was wheeled off for a CT scan. The doctors at Selayang were young and reassuringly professional. They reported that the scan showed there was a slight edema (swelling) and there were symptoms of viral infection. Three doctors in particular had friendly, helpful auras – Drs Zetti, Haris and Amar. It was the latter who accompanied Ahau and me in the ambulance along with a nurse when Putrajaya Hospital agreed to take him. By the time we arrived at the southernmost part of Selangor state it was close to 11pm.

After 48 hours in the Hospital Putrajaya ICU Ahau was transferred to Ward 4A

Mary arrived at Putrajaya Hospital with Anoora and our dear friend Soon within minutes of Ahau being wheeled into emergency prior to being sent directly to the ICU. As I was taking the first watch Anoora had packed a small knapsack for me. Amazingly she had seen fit to include my Peruvian poncho and a book I had just started reading. I must have cut a surreal figure at 3 in the morning walking about the hospital grounds in my rainbow poncho. Dr Radha who was in charge of the ICU that night had taken my phone number and assured me that no news was good news as far as Ahau was concerned. I knew he was in excellent, dedicated hands. Dr Radha herself had the sweetest face and an angelic aura. It was hard to reconcile the cold-blooded colossal bureaucratic monstrosity called Putrajaya with the warmth and humanity of everyone I had met at the hospital.

PART 2

My Son, the Reincarnated King of Mu! (updated)

The High Hut aka Jabba @ 1996. Took about two months to build and cost me less than RM2,000. Our hillbilly fambly lived here without electricity... until a freak mudslide in October 1999 forced us to evacuate.

Best bathroom I ever had!

Life with the Pertak Hillbillies - old photos, sweet memories

Thought I'd found the ideal location, about 30 yards from a gentle 200-foot waterfall called Lata Puntung (Blowpipe Falls), right below Bukit Suir - which I later learned was the abode of the dreaded langsuir (jungle sirens akin to harpies or vampires).

It was quite spooky when I first moved in around April 1994. Whenever I was away for a couple of days, I'd return to find the food left for my dogs untouched but putrefying and crawling with maggots. Didn't take me long to discover why my dogs and the local folk seemed so wary of the location. It was the scene of a tragedy that occurred around 1907 when a mining tunnel (the eerie entrance to which was scarcely 50 yards from my High Hut) collapsed, burying alive 200-300 workers. Nobody can say exactly how many died, as the mine owner made himself scarce, fearing bankruptcy from having to pay compensation to the miners' families.

Fortunately, I had quite a few visitors who were geomancers, healers, shamans and wizards - and their collective efforts to ritually cleanse the area eventually cleared the psychic murk and brought more vitality and cheer to the spot.

Star Commander Lee Ahau Ben Anoor-Antares in his Pleiadian scoutship.

Ahau, Antares & Anoora at the High Hut @ June 1996 (photo: Jesse Hang)

Father & Son, June 1996 (photo: Chief Jesse Hang)

Father & Son @ 2008 (photo: Gabriel Herbst)

When my son Ahau Ben was born (at 2:00 am, 21 March 1996, at the Kuala Lumpur Hospital) everyone noticed that his head was remarkably large. (The photo at right was taken on his 13th day on Earth.)

He had to be delivered by C-section as his mother's pelvis was a little out of whack due to childhood polio. So when I first saw him, his curly hair was neatly pasted in tiny beautiful ringlets around his enormous head. I greeted him in star language and welcomed him to this funky and exciting but pretty much messed-up planet.

Our jolly joy boy rarely cried and smiled most of the time, a beatific Buddha smile. Before his first month I was calling him Doctor Baby because he seemed to be healing his mother Anoora's wounded heart by gazing at her with pure adoration whenever he suckled at her breast. Initially she couldn't handle the emotional intensity and had to quickly pass the infant to somebody else.

Anoora was hydrocephalic at birth, a melon-head baby who looked so grotesque her mother immediately offered to sell her to a nurse. However, her father intervened and sent the infant to Pahang to be raised by relatives. When I first met Anoora, she had no grasp whatsoever of what love was all about. Now her own baby was tutoring her on a daily basis.

This came as no surprise to me as I had established contact with the incoming soul during Anoora's pregnancy, and it had "told" me its original home was the Great Central Sun and that its mission on earth was to demonstrate the power of love. So I chose to name him Ahau Ben - Mayan starglyphs meaning Sun God and Skywalker or Celestial Messenger. Later I read somewhere that the last king of Mu (a lost civilization many have confused with Lemuria in the Pacific) was named Ahau. It now appears that Mu may have - in truth, if not in fact - referred to a vast bioregion encompassing East Asia and what is now known as Australia (see map below)!

Our Big Head Boy never learned to crawl. I guess his head was too heavy to be supported by his limbs. Instead, he inched along the floor on his bottom for a few months - until one day he decided his legs were strong enough to try walking. From early infancy, Ahau was exposed to many languages: English, Temuan, Cantonese, Tamil, star language... and he was always attentive to birdcalls and animal sounds. Ahau's great-aunt Mak Minah often sang Temuan lullabies to Ahau. Long after Mak Minah's death in 1999, Ahau still listens raptly to the entire Akar Umbi CD, occasionally singing along.

When he was around six months, he enjoyed squatting by himself a short distance from our High Hut and I would observe as he smiled secretly to himself, as if conversing with invisible folk.

I had expected Ahau to learn human speech quickly but he did just the opposite. His vocal range was astonishing: he could produce extremely high-pitched squeals that reminded me of dolphins and sometimes he uttered distinct syllables in an unknown tongue. Certain phrases would be repeated consistently, but it sounded like no language known to any of us. One day he distinctly said: "Maniam!"

And from then on he began experimenting with endless variations on the theme. I began telling friends that Ahau spoke Maniamese - a language consisting of only one word expressed in countless ways. Subsequently he switched from Maniamese to Bunyip - a language spoken by only one person on earth, Ahau Ben, affectionately dubbed The Bunyip.

Close friends and family began to express concern about Ahau's inability or refusal to communicate in recognizable human languages. I teased him about being a non-English-speaking Bunyip and he would smile and go, "Ho ho ho!" in as low a register as he could muster (this was before his voice broke). He apparently understood just about everything people said to him - but only very rarely would he deign to communicate in English. 

When he was three, I went away for more than a week and when I returned, I distinctly heard Ahau say, "Welcome back, Daddy!" as he threw open his arms for me to lift him up.

One day a friend's 10-year-old son rushed out from the room where he had been tickling Ahau and excitedly reported that Ahau had said to him: "Okay, that's enough!"

Nevertheless, I finally succumbed to well-meaning advice and took Ahau to see a specialist at Tawakal Hospital. The Egyptian neurologist who examined him said the only way to ascertain if there was any problem would be to do a series of MRI scans. So Ahau was made to swallow some liquid anesthetic which knocked him out within 15 minutes. It was quite surreal to watch my unconscious boy being wheeled into the MRI chamber - it was like a scene out of a sci-fi movie. 

We waited anxiously as the neurologist studied the magnetic resonance images. Finally, he turned around and said: "Well, the good news is the scans show his brain is perfectly normal, no fluid in the cranium, apart from this bit of mucus in his sinus passages."

I enquired if there might be some medical explanation for Ahau's disinterest in acquiring the routine skills other kids his age find easy to master. The neurologist mulled over this for a few moments, then he said it could be due to any number of factors - from genetic to environmental, he couldn't really say for certain.

He remarked that Ahau had the largest brain of any kid he had ever encountered. "He could turn out to be a supergenius... or maybe he's really an alien," he added with a smile. His parting words were most reassuring: "My advice to you is to keep him away from doctors!"

Well, there are days when I wish Ahau was like other kids. It would be nice to hear from him the inside story on his mother - what it was like being in her womb for nine months. Every father relishes going on long walks with his son, doing a bit of male-bonding and stuff... but, then, I'll never forget the look on Ahau's face when he saw me being wheeled into an ambulance in December 2009. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran up the steps and plonked himself on the seat beside me, determined to accompany me wherever I was being taken. His surrogate mum Mary (above, right) had to forcibly drag him out, reassuring him that his Daddy would be fine and that he could visit me very soon...

When I emerged from a 5-day induced coma and regained my strength, I kept hearing Ahau singing to me from a few feet away. I was convinced that Sungai Buloh Hospital was only a short distance from Magick River... later I realized that my mind was operating in multiple dimensions and that Ahau was watching over me from the astral plane or dreamtime - perhaps his natural habitat.

I was shown a glimpse of an alternate universe where telepathy made human speech redundant and reminded that Ahau had chosen to incarnate through Anoora and me because it was the only way he might escape school - where his brain would be formatted and stuffed with useless information, rendering him incapable of completing his mission. He didn't travel all this way to conform to human expectations.

A few years ago, Ahau had met a Mayan clairvoyant named Carlos Palada and taken an instant shine to him. We looked on in amusement as Ahau plonked himself on Carlos's lap and began "talking" excitedly to him in a series of high-pitched squeals that sounded like some antique dial-up modem. After 10 minutes or so, I could no longer contain my curiosity. I asked Carlos if he could understand Ahau's language, and Carlos explained that Ahau was transmitting high-frequency packets of visual data, decodable only to somebody with an activated causal chakra.*

"Well... what's he telling you?" I asked, and Carlos said something I'll never forget:

"He was showing me video clips of what this place looked like about 80,000 years ago. There were dinosaurs around then. He's from a fifth-dimensional race that only appears on third-dimensional planets like Earth whenever we're undergoing a massive transition... their work is to stabilize the electromagnetic grids... his last visit here was sometime before Lemuria was destroyed."

Ahau's favorite spot in the whole wide universe!

Whenever Ahau's stubborn resistance to acquiring basic skills gets on my nerves, I have to remind myself that I actually heard this report from Carlos Palada - an amiable guy with emerald green eyes, working for a Japanese construction firm in Singapore, when I first met him in 1997 at a Flower of Life workshop. Carlos had absolutely no reason to make up such crazy stories.

I mean, even if Ahau's an alien... why can't he brush his own teeth, dress himself, open bottle caps, wipe his own bum?

Ahau, Anoora & my grandson Max at Soluntra's Rock

I can hear Ahau sending me a burst of high-pitched audio signals which might translate into something like: "Where I come from intelligent beings don't grow teeth, don't wear clothes, we drink directly from the clouds, and there are no assholes that require wiping, because we're smart enough to eat stuff that doesn't turn into shit!"

Okay, okay, okay, Ahau.... I'll cut you some slack.... for now.

__________________

* In May 2014 Ahau gave us a scare when he collapsed in fits and had to be hospitalized for 5 days. The doctor at KKB district hospital took a long time to intubate him and when I asked him why it was so difficult, he declared that Ahau's larynx was like no other he had ever seen. "Nothing wrong with it, just that it's not a normal human larynx." It was only then I understood why Ahau refused to speak human languages - his vocal cords are simply not designed for human speech.

In the wee hours of 21 December 2017 I found an Arabic-subtitled video on YouTube summarizing the Pleiadian involvement with Earth's evolution and did a screen capture of this unusual map:

Postscript: When a friend heard about Ahau's 5-day hospital experience she intuitively sent me some Transfer Factor (a colustrum-based tonic that reboots the immune system). Ahau enjoyed the orange-flavored chewable tablets and finished his two-month supply. Miraculously, he began to really flesh out, acquiring impressive muscle tone in the process. Here are a few portraits of the former King of Mu taken since 2015...

Ahau making his way upstream while Bonzo lazes on a rock

Ahau with a sling after breaking his left humerus on 1 January 2017

Wefie with his dad (who has also acquired some middle-age spread)

Portrait of the 21-year-old Ahau as a robust young lad

[First posted 21 October 2011, reposted 21 December 2017, 4 July 2018 & 20 March 2023]

The Merry Month of May That Was (Part 3)

This quickly became a familiar sight

Ahau Ben at 6 (Photo: Emanar)

Before Ahau was born I telepathically enquired of the incoming soul: "What's your mission in this incarnation?" It responded: "I come to demonstrate the power of love." Even though we still do not know what triggered the terrifying fits on the morning of May 25th - & despite CT scans that show the presence of some fluid in his brain, symptomatic of possible infection - I no longer doubt that this strange lad who chose to be born as my only begotten son is on a very special mission & it has just shifted gear.... in Putrajaya! Thanks, Yehokhanan Ishtar, for your extremely timely, insightful & pertinent message. Ishtar said: "Be grateful for what Ahau is going through right now." Indeed, it's not always pleasant work, demonstrating the power of love.... {Facebook update on 27 May 2014)

The doctors had analyzed the preliminary results of Ahau’s cerebrospinal fluid sample and ruled out meningitis. There had been no relapses since his admission to the Hospital Putrajaya ICU. Indeed, his metabolism was completely back to normal, and he had begun drinking water and eating solids by the third day.

Ahau usually doesn't like wearing hats but in this instance he didn't resist

During his recovery Ahau had been uncharacteristically cooperative with the doctors and nurses, allowing his blood pressure to be recorded several times daily, blood samples taken, even stoically enduring multiple attempts to reinsert his intravenous antibiotic and saline drip, which kept getting displaced. Everyone who attended to him was extremely kind and patient and he certainly was more open and responsive to people around him than he had previously been wont to.

It certainly seemed like the entire medical crisis had been a massive wake-up call not just for Ahau, but also for Mary and me. We had been content to leave well enough alone and hadn’t been firm enough with regard to how much time he could spend in front of his laptop, replaying specific cartoon scenes over and over again.

Ahau perks up at the sight of his beloved laptop

Over the years I had more or less given up trying to get Ahau interested in other activities – taking walks, playing music, drawing, and so on. Mary and I resolved to keep the pressure on Ahau to shift beyond his comfort zone, but for now, we were just overjoyed that our beloved Bunyip was back on track and ready to walk out of Hospital Putrajaya – which he did around 6:30pm on 30 May 2014.

Ready to go home after paying a very reasonable hospital bill of RM402

Looking back almost a month later on the entire episode, I feel profoundly grateful that Ahau’s medical crisis lasted no more than five days and that it had brought out far more positive side-effects than anyone could have imagined. 

Surprise visit from an old friend, Ras Adiba Radzi,
closet elven queen & fairy godmother to Ahau

The emotional and energetic support of a wide circle of friends kept us calm and centered, focused on Ahau’s swift recovery and emergence from his hospital ordeal with palpable gains in awareness, maturity, and a willingness to engage with other humans. Old friends suddenly popped up in my inbox asking about Ahau and offering useful advice and energetic support. Someone I haven't seen in years couriered a consignment of Transfer Factor to help boost Ahau's immune system and accelerate full recovery. Ahau even had a special visit from Ras Adiba Radzi the day before he was discharged.

Mee rebus served at Cafe Hospital Putrajaya
(photo: Ben Ashaari)

Every step of the way – from KKB District Hospital to Putrajaya - we encountered only helpful, dedicated and competent doctors and nurses. Even the ambulance drivers, security guards and maintenance staff were friendly and understanding. I found myself looking forward to the amazing variety of food served in the Hospital Putrajaya cafeteria. One of the staff told me this was actually a branch of a well-known restaurant franchise – not any run-of-the-mill hospital canteen.

Apart from that, I could sense that Ahau’s other-worldly energy field had the effect of neutralizing or at least softening the cold, impersonal atmosphere of the nation’s administrative capital. Throughout the period of commuting between Pertak Village and Putrajaya Hospital, I found myself operating on overdrive, far more alert than usual to changing frequencies. After this experience, the whole idea of Putrajaya has lost its erstwhile reptilian clamminess. I know there are still many befriendable and admirable human beings to be found in its vast precincts.

20 June 2014

Star Commander Lee Ahau Ben turns Sweet Sixteen!

Lee Ahau Ben, 13 days after he landed on 21 March 1996.

16 years later, he still believes Mickey Mouse is God.

Anoora was the most excited one of all at Ahau's party.

Mary couldn't persuade Ahau to participate in the cake cutting ritual.

Neither could Anoora get him away from his Nemo DVD.

Don't BUG me... it's my birthday!

Aunt Rodi got Ahau a beautiful coverlet with a religious motif.

Mugging for the camera with his Daddy...

Okay, Daddy, that's enough...

All this unsolicited attention is giving me a headache.

So just bugger off, all right? I'm busy cultivating some acne.

That's better. Pimples don't show up in sepia.

HAPPY 16TH SOLAR ORBIT,
AHAU BEN!