In 1979, UG often stayed in the home of Chandrasekhar on West Anjaneja Temple Road, Bangalore. This is the place where I met him in late October. He had just returned from a trip with his friends Valentine, Mahesh Bhatt and Parveen Babi. This journey - beset by health problems and wild weather - has been chronicled by Chandrasekhar in his book "Stopped in Our Tracks".

I didn't know what to expect when meeting UG. I was only 24 at the time and had no background in Indian culture or philosophy. I only had heard a few comments from new friends in California about what he might be like, since they too had not visited UG in several years.

Terry Newland, who in the 1980's often lent UG his "crow's nest" home in Mill Valley, California, told me, "I haven't seen UG since 1971, but I think about that man every day."
Douglas Rosestone, another friend of UG since meeting him in Switzerland in 1966, said, "UG is from a school of Indian teachers who, when you finally find his abode in a remote place, throws dung at you when you approach."
Bob Carr, my good friend and the person who brought me to India to meet UG, had not seen UG since 1966. He and Douglas and Conrad Keeler had all been in Saanen to spend the summer in the mountains and to attend the talks of J. Krishnamurti. It was then that they met UG, who had been living in Saanen during summer since the early 60's. Bob said,"I haven't seen UG since 1966. It was the next summer that something 'happened to him'. Douglas says that he got into some kind of state; he's not sure what it is. I'll have to see for myself."

When we walked into the house UG was sitting on the floor. There were about fifteen people around the room, some on the floor and the rest on chairs or walking through doing various household tasks. He greeted Bob like an old friend, as if thirteen years had not gone by, even though they had only spent several weeks in acquaintance back then. They chatted about the years since and UG asked about mutual friends in California. He was friendly to me but didn't ask me any questions about my life, or reasons for travelling to India and coming to his place. He soon went back to talking to all the people and I just watched him. In those days he was very strong about J. Krishnamurti and constantly hammered away at the obvious JK influence in his visitors. He would often raise his arm up and swing it down, almost banging the floor with his hand to drive home his point. I immediately liked UG and felt comfortable in his presence. He was harsh and brutal and ruthless in his comments, but somehow likeable and not threatening.

After a few hours there was a short break and some of the people went out for lunch. UG still sat on the floor but there was a lull in the talking. Then, an older Indian gentleman turned to me and began to ask, "So, why have you come to India and what is it you are doing in California?" I started to answer but UG looked over and very forcefully said, "He doesn't have to answer all those questions! Leave him alone."

I really appreciated that! I instantly felt that I could enter this great man's house and not have to impress anyone with any credentials I didn't have. This was a quality I saw in UG from the beginning to the end. He welcomed anyone who had a sincere interest in seeing him. You could be from anywhere, be any age, sex, have any kind of background, even be half-mad or a criminal, and still he would offer a place to sit. No one around him was ever allowed to limit or control access or establish a position. If anyone tried they would be subject to an intense battering. Of course there were old friends who spent years and years with UG, but even they could not have any authority over the latest arrival. This was a constant battle because the desire to maintain a special relationship was in all of us. We all felt that UG was the one person in the world who understood us and really saw us as we were, and we wanted to keep his attention at all times.

Actually, this was impossible, because UG always explained that as soon as you left the room, or even as soon as he turned his head around and couldn't see, you were not there for him. His eyes were totally absorbed by the changing view of movement and light. You could never really understand his explanations, but you could see the practical outcome: there never was an inner circle able to form around him. Nobody could accomplish this, not even those who knew him for decades, or even family members.

You began to get the feeling that maybe there was nobody there at all to form a circle around!