UG Archive

Rajiv Mehrotra , a personal student of the Dalai Lama, was educated at the universities of Delhi, Oxford and Columbia. For over three decades he has been a familiar face on public television, notably as the anchor of an in-depth, one-on-one talk show. He is currently secretary/trustee of the Foundation for Universal Responsibility of His Holiness the Dalai Lama and managing trustee of the Public Service Broadcasting Trust. He is Judge of the Templeton Prize for Spirituality, a trustee of the Norbulinka Institute of Tibetan Culture and has served on the governing councils of the Sri Aurobindo Society and the Film and Television Institute of India. An independent documentary filmmaker, he has won several international and national awards. He was nominated a Global Leader for Tomorrow by the World Economic Forum at Davos. Rajiv has edited The Mind of the Guru, Conversations with Spiritual Masters (2003), Understanding the Dalai Lama (2004), The Essential Dalai Lama (2005), Thakur: Sri

Life Positive , December 2002 By Susmita Saha With his volatile reactions to the concept of spirituality, U.G. Krishnamurti attacks the entire foundation of human thought. Yet, he has left a deep impact on many lives. The following are extracts from conversations UG has had with people who sought him out. Vijay Anand, film-maker If you ask me about UG, I wouldn't know what to say. Firstly, I am not competent to talk about him and secondly I cannot become a mediator between UG and you. Most people are likely to misunderstand if you talk about him. UG is totally digested in my system. I don't miss him and there are times when I want to meet him not as a teacher, but as a human being. Every time he comes, there is one question I ask. I keep looking for meaning because the question has mingled with my life. Whenever he comes, he spends a lot of time with me. He wastes his time purposely since he is at a stage where he considers these talks as nonsense. To some people, they are mere

The Awakening Times , June 2017 By Mariana Caplan It is December 21, 2001 in Bangalore, Karnataka, India. Just the night before I had met my friend Kirsti on the dirt road outside of Ramana Maharshi's ashram in Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu. Kirsti, originally from Finland, had come to India on three week tour twenty-five years ago, became a sadhu and has never stepped outside of Indian soil since. “I just got word. Guess who's in Bangalore?” she asked. “I have no idea.” “Guess,” she said. “He's the ultimate anarchist.” “Krishnamurti?” I joked. “I thought he was dead.” “The other one,” she said, “U.G. You must know of him.” “Only by name, really.” She smiled in such a way that made me very curious. “I guarantee you have never met anybody like him,” she giggled. “If you want to know how far somebody can go, you just might want to check him out.” Less than twelve hours later, I am aboard the cheapest, most run-down Indian bus I had ever set foot on, the engine so desperate and