Helga died during her afternoon nap on Sarasvati Puja. On the day of Durga Puja she was buried by those dear friends united by her presence long ago.
It was a happy occasion, an opportune gesture of affection and gratitude for a good friend, a long life, lots and lots of laughs, lots of grace, bounty and shared understanding in the honour of being by Arunachala. All of us were happy to happen to be here at the new muddy grave of the dearest of dear.
The lions that looked down on us had just the right kind of funky faces to recapture the bountiful creative life that once overflowed Paul Brunton’s famous jungle hermitage that became Helga’s house.
Arunagiri was a good father and son to this Earth Mother. Annamalai!