Sources painted a picture of a toxic workplace, deeply at odds with the company’s professed values. An account, run by Becky Lovell and Nicole Norton, who had been Jagat’s personal assistant, began anonymously posting reports of Jagat’s bad behavior. Her stance triggered a backlash that opened the floodgates. After promoting a video that sought to discredit Dyson and defend Bhajan, she wrote in an Instagram post, “This tale is no truer than any other tale-the Truth as always lies in the eye of the Beholder.” “Truth” was something she had spoken about often only for her it meant something subjective, mutable, and relative (not the truth at all). Depending on whom you ask, Jagat was a bona fide spiritual leader-or a fraud a controversial thought leader a bigot a feminist a rape apologist. To start with, the one she was given at birth: Katie Griggs, a befittingly average name for a middle-class white girl born in the summer of 1979 on a Colorado farm. Her name, at least to those gathered, was Guru Jagat, the controversial founder of Ra Ma Institute, a yoga studio dedicated to spreading kundalini to a new generation. Behind the stage was projected a black-and-white image of a fair-haired young woman, smiling wistfully.

They were dressed almost entirely in white as followers of the esoteric yoga practice known as kundalini, they believed the color could stretch one’s aura to a very specific nine feet. Five hundred mourners had taken their seats among carefully ordered rows as the sun dipped below the picture-postcard palms. DeMille, and Estelle Getty, just around the corner from Paramount Studios. It was golden hour at the Hollywood Forever cemetery, final resting place of Burt Reynolds, Cecil B.

Gold death mask AND Griggs AND mummy