Veet Helen

Eulogy

by Punya

Dear Veet Helen,

I just heard you left your earthly presence on Friday and that you left wonderfully in peace.

The last time I saw you, you had already become aware that you tended to tell the same story twice, and before starting you would gracefully enquire, “Did I already tell you about that?” I did not mind hearing the same story twice or thrice because each time it was told from a different angle or you added some details I did not know. At that time you were struggling with the fact that after growing up happily in India, surrounded by loving ayahs, you were abruptly put on board a ship heading towards Scotland, where two aunts were going to look after you. It was painful for me to hear as I had lived through a similar, although not as drastic, an experience. It appeared as if you were trying to make sense of and heal that period in your life.

As far as I understand, you never went back to India, but you reconnected with your ‘birth country’ when you took sannyas from Osho, through the mail.

We first met in the mid-late 90’s. It was love at first sight. You had just alighted from a car that had brought you to the village where Amiten and I had opened a meditation centre. Our eyes met, big smiles, and we both knew!

At age 65, when everybody else becomes a pensioner, you started a new career. With the vigour of a young student, you studied kinesiology, travelled far to take courses, read books and gave practice sessions (of which Amiten and I became grateful recipients – you were so good at it!). Then came Osho’s active meditations, and Osho Neo-Reiki, which you followed until you became a Master, very often incorporating it into your kinesiology sessions. Then together we did a week-long experimental psychic reading course, which travelled through the 7 chakras.

With kinesiology you had had incredible results with a patient whose oncologist just kept shaking his head and saying to him, “I don’t know what you are doing, but whatsoever you are doing, keep doing it!”

All this at the same time as running a B&B in your home. Lucky were the engineers of a major building project in town who found an always-cheerful landlady in a clean, homey and aesthetic house to greet them after work. Not to mention welcoming home your beloved Malcolm after his long and tiring sales-rep journeys across the country. Previously, in that same house you had looked after Malcolm’s ailing mother, for years. Your generosity is limitless.

Earlier you had been running a restaurant/deli in England. I still remember when, with a heavy heart, you pondered, standing in front of open kitchen cupboards, that out of lack of space you finally needed to get rid of the large jars of spices you had kept from that time – and replace them with fresher, family-sized shakers from the supermarket. How well I could understand your regret, with my own past in kitchens with those precious huge spice jars…

You were, anagraphically, 11 years older than me, but, despite your motherly vibe, I always felt we were of the same age, young and silly like schoolgirls when together. (The number 11 was interesting because in 1999 I was 55, you were 66 and Amiten 44, the same age as one of your sons.) Still, knowing that in your mid-60s you had embarked on a new career, gave me the confidence, when at that age I became redundant, to teach myself to become a web designer, a job I did for over 10 years. It’s still part of my skill-set. Thank you!

(You also never showed your true age because, as you said, high cheekbones and smooth skin were in your genes thanks to the McDonald clan – and the Scottish moist weather!)

And your heartful hospitality! We were always welcome and there was always a bed if we needed to spend the night. A plate on the table. A big smile, an open heart. Thank you again!

Your memory will keep living on in my daily life; whenever I get dressed for a morning tea out and take my light pink cashmere from its hanger, I inevitable say to myself: “I bought this together with Veet Helen at Jim Moody’s on Kelso’s beautiful square.”

Your old friend, Punya.

Veet Helen leaves behind beloved Malcolm, two sons and a daughter, their partners, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She died from dementia after a short stay in hospital. Malcolm had been looking after her, with help from nurses, making an enormous effort so that she could keep living in her own home. Thanks so much, Malcolm!

More Tributes

You can leave a message / tribute / anecdote, and send a photo, by writing to web@oshonews.com (pls add ‘Veet Helen’ in the subject field). Your contribution will be added manually, typically within 24 hours.

Dear Veet Helen,

I am hearing right now, barely a month after you have gone, that your beloved Malcolm is on his way to you.

Both can now fly high and rest, and have fun with each other.

Love you always,

Punya