Friday, November 23, 2007

How I Met UG

First Introduction: The first time I heard about UG was with Terry Newland (then Agnew). I knew Terry in Berkeley around 1969 when I was living in Berkeley. I once saw an announcement in the campus newspaper that there was going to be a J. Krishnamurti discussion group meeting in the Student Union Building on campus. I went there mainly out of curiosity (and perhaps also out a ‘need’ to belong to a group). Terry was conducting the meeting. It seemed like an organizational meeting. After the meeting we became friends.

It must have been some months later in the same year. Terry took a fancy to me and invited me to Sonoma State for a philosophy talk in a professor’s class. He also asked me to talk to a student group. Then I visited an elementary school where Terry was teaching at the time. He asked me to speak to the kids there and then showed me his yoga class. About that time he had a fall out with the Krishnamurti people, particularly in Switzerland. Terry was duly kicked out of the Krishnamurti circle. Earlier, he was specially invited to go to Switzerland to meet and spend time with Krishnamurti. At the same time, he was also listening to UG.

Later, Terry invited me and three of my friends to spend the night in his place in Sebastapol on our way to Carson City where we were also going to visit another friend who was teaching in the Indian Reservation School at that time. Early in the morning, I got to watch Terry do yoga. He looked like the image of health – sounds of breath coming out of his nostrils like steam from pipes and perfectly precise and graceful asanas, all done seemingly effortlessly with a robust and statuesque body.

That morning Terry gave us a breakfast of musilex. He also showed me a picture of UG and referred to him as an enlightened man. Terry had heard him speak in Switzerland. He told me later how UG took him out for a coffee and talked to him about himself.

UG had invited him to spend three months in India (in Bangalore) with him and write his biography. Terry described how UG’s physical features had changed because of the transformation he had undergone: ashes falling out of his forehead, arms being turned backward, glands swelling, eyes not blinking, and so on.[1]

Terry was obviously quite touched by the attention UG showered on him. Apparently, UG would get up early in the morning before Terry and arrange for his hot water for his bath![2] The biography he was supposed to write, for which purpose he took a typewriter with him, never came about. I heard several such accounts about UG from Terry and simply stored them away in memory without doing much about them.

Second Introduction: The next occasion I heard about UG was when I was in Hawaii with Terry. Around 1971, my then-partner Linda and I went on a trip to Hawaii on a special invitation from Terry to spend a month with him and learn Yoga. Soon after we got to his cabin in Molakai, there was an accident while he was lighting a stove to make dinner for us and the whole cabin burned down to ashes. We escaped with a few belongings, but lost our air tickets to the fire. We spent the night in Terry’s friends’ house and the next day moved to another friend’s rather large house miles away. There Linda and I stayed for a week and learned some yoga from Terry anyway. We came to the main island of Oahu after that, got replacement airline tickets and headed back to the mainland.

A day or two after the cabin was burned down, I went with Linda and Terri to one of his lady friends’ place. It was a lone house amid fields and pineapple plantations. There he played a tape of UG speaking. Again, I felt no reaction. I remember UG’s voice in the tape being somewhat shriek.

Third Introduction: Linda, to whom I now was married, our daughter Bujji and I went to India in the summer of 1975. Just that past year, I began teaching in the Monterey Peninsula College. We spent a few days in Madras and then went to Tiruvannamalai, visiting my old friend, the famous writer Chalam. Just as I entered Chalam’s front yard (across the street from Ramanashram), and was approaching the main house, I heard UG’s audio cassette being played. I distinctly remember him in the tape saying something about the space between two thoughts. At that time, I was suffering from a bout of the flu. I went upstairs in a few minutes, as the talk didn’t make much impression on me. Some kind of Vedanta, I thought. I also saw a picture of UG on a wall in Chalam’s house for the first time. Sowris, Chalam’s daughter and a mystic, said that UG was her distant cousin. I later learned from Chandrasekhar that a few years before I went there, he told them about UG and showed them a picture of him.[3] Then Sowris recognized him as the one to whom she could have been married when she was young, except that UG wasn’t interested. Chalam and his family met UG through Chandrasekhar.

Sowris, Chalam and Sowris’s ‘gang’ used to visit UG in Bangalore. Apparently, after the initial visits, UG, in his usual fashion, started tightening screws on Sowris and bluntly told her that if she wanted to see him, she should come without all her followers. He also forbade her singing in his presence (singing was one of her attachments!). Later, when Chalam, being already on a wheelchair, was having trouble visiting him in Bangalore, UG said, “Why should that old man come here all the way? I will go and visit him myself,” and went there to visit.

My First Meeting with UG: Then, some years later, early in 1981, I got a letter from Nartaki, the lady who lived in Chalam’s family for much of her life.[4] She said that UG was coming to the U.S. and suggested that I should go and visit him. (I don’t remember if she gave me an address or a phone number.) I, of course, promptly ignored the letter.

At about the same time, Terry also called from Mill Valley saying that UG was in town and was asking about me (“Where is this Dr. Narayana Moorty?”). Apparently, Nartaki had given him my phone number and address which he promptly lost. She later told me that she said to him, “You go and see everyone everywhere; why don’t you go see this man also?” Terry asked me if I wanted to come and visit UG in Mill Valley. I replied that I was too old to go see ‘teachers’ (I was already burned out with J. Krishnamurti), and if he was passing through here in Seaside, he would be welcome here. So, I didn’t go then.

It must have been about a month or so later: one morning (this must be in 1981, around October), I got a phone call from Ramesh Ganerwala, an engineer who worked for the California Energy Commission, from Carmel. He was driving UG and Valentine from San Louis Obispo after visiting James Brodsky (later Jane) or some other person. He said that UG and Valentine were with him and that UG wanted to know if they could come and visit. I said they would be most welcome and that they could have lunch at my place as well.

I had a large quantity of upma made for my in-laws who were visiting me that morning. After breakfast they had all gone out with my wife, Wendy. I was home alone. The time was about noon. Ramesh drove UG and Valentine in his small old beat-up BMW. I watched through the living room window UG getting out of the car and walking on the pavement toward my house. With his arms hanging loose, he had the gait of a zombie. His face was expressionless and he looked like a man on the death row.

Valentine and Ramesh as well as UG, all came in. I greeted them, led them into the kitchen and seated them at the kitchen table. UG sat next to the wall in the kitchen and I sat across the table from him. I served lunch to everyone. UG was praising my upma to Ramesh saying that it was the ‘authentic stuff’. UG started talking mostly about himself. During the conversation he and I exchanged notes about our backgrounds -- he coming from Gudivada and I from Vijayawada, both towns in Andhra Pradesh, just twenty miles apart -- and about the people we had known in common. He went to Madras University for his Honors studies and had known T.M.P. Mahadevan who was also my thesis supervisor. We both also knew my Sanskrit lecturer in S.R.R. & C.V.R. College, Vijayawada, and a few others. Apparently he dropped out of his Philosophy Honors in Madras University, not having taken the final examinations.

During the conversation, UG joked about Satya Sai Baba, saying how he used to materialize Swiss watches before, but how he materialized only Hindustan watches now, after Indira Gandhi imposed an import restriction on Swiss watches.

They stayed for about two hours. As they were leaving, I tried to put my arm around UG’s shoulder as a gesture of affection, but he quickly moved away. I realized that he was not open to such physical contact. In the living room, as he was leaving, I shook his hand to say goodbye, addressing him as ‘Mr. Krishnamurti.’ He said that I could just as well call him ‘number 69,’ like a jail convict, and that people called him ‘UG.’

It was a pleasant experience meeting UG. I had the strange feeling as we were standing at the kitchen door and holding each other’s hands, that he was so similar to me in many ways, and that I was meeting myself. The feeling was one of closeness. I was already bonded with UG!

As he left, he invited me to visit him in Mill Valley. I thought that it was merely a formal invitation. I said, “OK, thank you,” and didn’t take the invitation seriously.

First Visit to UG: I think UG came a second time, when Elena, a Russian young lady, was also present.[5] It must be about a month or so after his first visit. I can’t remember much about this visit except that this time he invited both Elena and me to visit him. Again, I didn’t respond except saying “OK, thank you.” But the night before Thanksgiving that year, I got another phone call from Ramesh in Mill Valley saying that UG would like to see me, could I come? Earlier, I had built all kinds of excuses in my mind not to go to see UG in Mill Valley, that the invitation was only a formality and he wasn’t probably very serious about it; that I didn’t like driving long distances; that my old AMC car wouldn’t make it that far; and that I didn’t like traveling -- to mention a few. But all those excuses had evaporated now, as the invitation this time was so specific and I couldn’t as well turn it down. Also, Kodvatiganti Subbarao, an engineer from Berkeley who worked for the FEMA and was visiting us for Thanksgiving, was leaving on Thanksgiving Day and was willing to give me and Elena a ride to Mill Valley. So, we all three drove to Mill Valley.



We arrived at UG’s house in Mill Valley around 5 in the afternoon. Subbarao and UG quickly got into an argument on the subject of the Bhagavad Gita. The argument got nowhere and Subbarao left after about an hour.

Julie Wellings, whom I had met long before (in 1975) in Tiruvannamalai, where she was living in Chalam’s household and learning Telugu from Sowris, was also visiting UG. She brought her own beer that night and drank it, to my surprise[6]. The next day a few pictures were taken.

UG gave me a room upstairs with a big (soft) bed and some sheets. Not much else. I couldn’t sleep very well. I was there a couple of nights. The next day in the kitchen, UG asked me if I could “look into” the cooking which Kim was doing. I put a few spices like cumin (or anything suitable I could find on the shelf) in the food.

On the second day I was there, Ramesh was also there. Then UG went on talking hours on end about his past life, his wife, family and so on. Then a young man visited UG. He sat at the table and they talked about Zen. UG challenged the man, holding a cup in his hand, “Tell me what this is.” “Do you really see this? What do you really see here?” And he kept repeating the questions. Soon he enlisted my help. I remember saying, “There is something funny about Zen. How can anyone certify that someone had satori or enlightenment and to what degree?” UG appeared to agree with me.

It was during this visit that Terry brought mimeographed copies of conversations with UG (later to become part of The Mystique of Enlightenment) and distributed them to people around. He collected five dollars per copy for the cost of mimeographing. I got a copy for myself.

That was where Elena met Krim, a young American of Russian origin, who had known UG in Switzerland and in the US for a number of years. I remember going out for a short walk with them. Apparently, UG cautioned to Krim as we were leaving, “Make it, short—kurtz promenade!” That was the beginning of the disastrous relationship between Krim and Elena which ended a few years later. UG repeatedly mentioned how he warned him. I wonder if he knew what was to come.[7]

That afternoon, an elderly man and a young couple, all Americans, came to visit UG. I was told that they were friends of Alan Watts. UG received them cordially and soon got involved in a discussion with them. At one stage, I interjected saying something trying to help the discussion and UG immediately interrupted me saying, “I want to stop him right there.” I got the message and shut up.

I was ready to leave after two days. Kim was driving Ramesh’s BMW car for UG in those days. On the third day, sometime in the afternoon, Kim was ready to drive me to the Bus Depot in San Francisco. (I was going to take a bus, but UG would have none of that.) I remember giving a hug to Ramesh and whoever before I left. UG decided to drive with us to the bus depot. I felt flattered. At the bus depot, he got out of the car and bid me farewell. I felt so special that he came to see me off there. I bought myself a ticket, got on the bus and returned to Monterey.


[1] Till his final days, on special occasions, especially on full moon days, UG demonstrated the swollen glands to people around him.

[2] I know that treatment: there were times when I slept in UG’s living rooms. He would come early in the morning at 6 or 7 am, stand by my side and say in a feeble and gentle voice: “It’s 7 o’clock now, will you try to get up?”

[3] Chandrasekhar was a frequent visitor to Chalam’s house and regarded Chalam as his ‘father’ besides being devoted to Sowris.

[4] Having been a widow and had no place to go, she took shelter in Chalam’s place and became part of the household.

[5] She had lived with us for about a month. I think she just got out of living with a Russian old lady in Monterey. She was separated from her husband Ian and apparently they had both met UG once before in India).

[6] I thought people didn’t drink or smoke in front of spiritual people like UG.

[7] He did make a few futile attempts later [sometimes with me helping him] to break up the relationship. They ended up having a child and then separating.

3 comments:

Bruce said...

Oh, and one more comment. Fab picture! Love it ... just great.

Anonymous said...

Thank-you for being there. You have experienced twenty-five years of UG conditioning, quite a privilege. To myself UG is possibly the most important human this century. Others may have failed to show their calling-card. Here's a UGism: You're nicely buttered. What's all this nonsense concerning UG's teaching methods? (Gleefully UG pushes your button.)

Anonymous said...

You describe UG's conditioned characteristics and behaviour as if they were premeditated teaching formulas. What a sentimental presentation! You look for meaning in the abstract. Yourself, Mahesh, Babu, Shanta, Julie and others tell incidental tales, unique, curious, fascinating, revealing but they do detract from the nitty-gritty phenomenon that was UG.