Recently, I had the opportunity to participate in the “KFI Annual Gathering-2024,” organized by the Krishnamurti Foundation India, at Rajghat in Varanasi from November 9–12, 2024. Just a few days before this, I had visited Varanasi for a “Musical Retreat” event organized by SIDH. I decided to attend this gathering due to my curiosity, despite the mere 20-day gap between the two events. In the last few years, I have consistently listened to J. Krishnamurti, and I can confidently say that his teachings have profoundly impacted the way I perceive and understand the world. The perspective with which I see things today has been shaped largely by his words. For this reason, I had a strong curiosity to meet those who have dedicated their lives to advancing his thoughts and actions and who deeply understand him. I was also eager to experience the extraordinary environment of Rajghat.

The event was grand and well-organized. Despite over 300 participants, there was no disorder or haste. Everything proceeded with ease and tranquility. The food was excellent. The sessions began with sweet musical performances by teachers from the Krishnamurti schools, followed by dialogues and discussions. In smaller groups, in-depth discussions also took place. In addition, the Krishnamurti Foundation India shared information about its activities and the six schools it runs in India. A discussion on the unique educational methods used in these schools was also held. The evening of November 12 was filled with music, featuring an unforgettable performance by Ms. Supriya Shah on sitar and Pt. Ritwik Sanyal’s rendition of Dhrupad singing. There was also ample time to enjoy the sights of the campus and its surroundings.

During these four days, one question repeatedly arose in my mind: Why did Krishnamurti allow his talks to be recorded? This same question comes to me when I listen to Goenka Ji’s recorded talks on Vipassana, which I have been following for the past 25 years. Recording the words of great personalities, preserving them in memory, and considering them the ultimate truth—does this really help our intellectual growth? Or does it actually hinder it? By doing so, do their followers, who could see the truth for themselves through their understanding and perspective, not limit themselves to a fixed framework? This question is deep and thought-provoking for me.

Ramana Maharshi, Osho, Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, Aurobindo, Mahatma Gandhi, and others have made significant contributions to the development of our intellect consciousness. All of them were ordinary people, but what made them special was their original thinking. They remained alert to their experiences and were able to see the truth within themselves. Many of them must have read other great personalities and studied ancient texts like the Vedas, Upanishads, and Western literature. Some aspects of these texts became assimilated into their original thinking, making their teachings unique. It is on the strength of this originality that they were able to have direct glimpses of the truth. The truth is one, but the journeys to reach it may differ. What these great people saw, they attempted to convey, so that we could relate it to our own experiences and empower ourselves. But the question is: In this process, do we actually become empowered, or by merely accepting others’ ideas, do we become weaker and more pretentious?

Being empowered within oneself demands great effort and courage, and perhaps it is not something everyone can achieve. It also involves deep insecurity, as this journey must be taken alone. We must look inward and search for the truth. This is why we often choose the simpler path—holding onto a particular name or idea and considering it the ultimate truth.

The problem is that we don’t truly know; we just believe. This makes us weak. The fear of insecurity leads us to hold onto something, and it becomes difficult to let go of it throughout our lives. Even when what we’ve held onto tells us, “Let go of me, I am only showing you the direction; you must forge your own path,” we continue to cling to it. This happens because we have not yet developed our own existence. Our original thinking never evolved.

Krishnamurti repeatedly reminded us that any knowledge that becomes a form of memory becomes dead. Such knowledge is not useful. He rejected knowledge altogether and emphasized self-exploration and intellectual development. His perspective inspires us to return to our originality, but for this, we need the courage to face insecurity. Can we accept this challenge? This question holds the key to our empowerment.

In the modern world, knowledge gained through memory is considered the most important. Originality holds little significance. We are expected to follow what has been taught or prescribed. This mindset often leads to effective management or administration. A form of disciplined compliance prevails, which is considered essential for material progress. This perspective proves useful for nations, large companies, so-called universities, national and international charitable organizations, and management institutions. The success here is defined by adherence to existing constitutions, rules, and laws. There is neither an expectation of originality nor an environment that encourages it.

In institutions like the Krishnamurti Foundation, originality should be treated as a duty. In my four days at the gathering, I felt as if everything had been frozen for the past 38 years. Even the addresses followed old patterns. Only in Prof. Samdong Rinpoche’s discourse did we hear his experiences, which were based on Krishnamurti’s teachings. But no one else spoke, no one shared their own experiences. It was only said that Krishnamurti said this or that. But why not speak up yourself? You have had a life, your own understanding, your own experiences. Talk about them. Yet no, this form of devotion has become such that those who have joined are not ready to think differently. It has become a kind of rigidity.

Such devotees may create some institutions, manage operations, etc., but no significant change can come from this—neither in themselves nor in society at large. You have accepted that this is all there is, and in doing so, you have blocked your own path of progress and limited the intellectual growth of a section of society that could have been reached through this institution. By merely accepting what is, you have not experienced the real process of knowing. Krishnamurti repeatedly emphasized that knowledge should not be made into a form of memory. Let it develop from your experiences and let it blossom. This is intellectual development, what he called intellect.

Members of affluent families are often very happy to inherit their ancestral wealth, as they have done nothing to earn it themselves. It is the result of their ancestors’ labor or circumstances of the time that they receive it easily. Some members of the family live off this wealth, but others accept it as a base and move forward to acquire something new, which benefits future generations or society at large.

Great people like Krishnamurti are among the members of the wealthy family of India who, using the intellectual wealth they inherited, contributed immensely to us all. During my time at the “KFI Annual Gathering-2024,” I met several people who are content with the intellectual wealth acquired by Krishnamurti, and have no desire to go beyond it. These people neither have enthusiasm nor energy. This is fine, but there is also a kind of arrogance visible—”We know everything, and we are from the Krishnamurti community, so we are the best.” This arrogance is accompanied by a show of false humility.

I apologize, I am not talking about Krishnamurti’s followers alone. I have felt this within myself as well. I have read a little about Dharmapal Ji, Gandhi Ji, Krishnamurti Ji, and I have continuously participated in intellectual camps. Therefore, I have recognized this mindset within myself and observed it in those around me.

This condition is a form of mental inertia—believing oneself to be something and then permanently placing a full stop in the depths of the mind where curiosity and the desire to learn should be. This condition is especially common among so-called Gandhists. It is a very subtle aspect of our personality, which we don’t see, but it weakens us. Our overall strength vanishes. We cannot inspire anyone, and we live in confusion. I have even experienced that this weakness, this pretentiousness, is visible to everyone but ourselves. However, because there are very few truly intellectual people in society, and because you have a lot of knowledge about a particular community or ideology, you begin to receive superficial respect. This is why a web of confusion continues to persist.

Krishnamurti often said that if we see our situation with honesty and courage, change begins. There is no need to do anything. “I am not like this” or “Yes, I am like this”—both these statements conceal an incomplete conclusion. If, for a moment, you find yourself in a position to see yourself in totality, remain calm in that moment, without rushing. Change will occur by itself. Seeing yourself as you truly are provides immense power.

To reach this state, we must be very harsh with ourselves, not give ourselves any leniency, but at the same time, with complete real humility.

How will it be possible to see our weaknesses as they are and live with them? For this, we must think deeply at both the personal and institutional levels. We need to peel ourselves layer by layer. Undoubtedly, it will hurt, and there will be cries, but it must be done. No one can help us in this process—not Krishnamurti, not Gandhi, not Dharmapal, not Nagraj Baba, no one.

At a personal level, I have no affiliation with the Krishnamurti Foundation or any similar institution. However, I am always in search of originality and sincerity. This search has inspired me to participate in such gatherings, meet new people, understand them, and learn from my experiences.

During the KFI Annual Gathering-2024, I made an effort to deeply observe what was happening within me. I have attempted to present my experiences here honestly and exactly as they were. Most of the questions raised here are directed at myself.

I have realized within myself that I am not free from influences. I am driven by my memories. Modernity and mainstream education have impacted the originality of my thinking. In attempting to observe myself holistically, I have discovered fragmentation within me on many levels. I noticed that I have adopted a facade that reveals my desire to establish my identity amidst the crowd. I have also sensed desires like a craving for public recognition (lokeshna) within myself. All these emotions exist within me. I cannot eliminate or alter them in any way. They are as they are.

When I delve deeper into these emotions, I see the same things reflected in my surroundings, including in ‘KFI’ and the people associated with it. They are not separate.

What I have seen in you, I could recognize only because I first observed it in myself. To understand this experience of seeing more deeply, I have documented it here. Beyond this, there is no other purpose.

Anil Maikhuri
November 16, 2024

Note: This article was originally written in Hindi and translated into English with the help of AI. If any confusion arises in understanding, please refer to the original text in Hindi.