U. G. Krishnamurti was the first avadhuta I encountered, and the first being that made a lasting and irrevocable impact on me. Though my spiritual search probably began a year after he died in 2007, I discovered his videos only after I had been reading J. Krishnamurti’s books. The main thing that struck me about him was his palpable fearlessness and authenticity. At that time, still not knowing anything about spiritual matters, I said: ‘Whatever he has, that is it—that is what I want.’
When my path came full circle and I could finally grasp the space that he talking and acting from, I wrote the book Nothing to Understand: U.G. Krishnamurti & The Avadhuta Path of Total Dissolution. U. G. was an iconoclastic avadhuta who was not, on the surface, connected with the Datta Tradition. However, surface matters have no importance in this Tradition. U. G. roared the truths of the natural path, the Datta Path, maybe better and louder than anyone else. His very existence is a benchmark for authenticity, naturalness and honesty.
In my early twenties, I was craving for an uninterrupted period of time to sit and be in silence. I originally planned to travel to the Himalayas, but after reading the book No Mind—I Am The Self about the lives and teachings of Lakshmana Swami & Mathru Shri Sarada, I decided to travel south to Tiruvannamalai, home of Arunachala and Ramana Maharshi’s ashram.
These two masters were known for living reclusive lifestyles, and at that time it was still possible to meditate in front of the gate of their compound for an hour in the morning. I did this for a few months without meeting them. Then, I had two dreams on two consecutive nights. In the first dream, Lakshmana Swami was lying on a sofa looking ill. I had tears in my eyes and so did he. He blessed me by putting his hand on my hand. The second night, Mathru Shri Sarada gave me a golden key. Mohanji later told me that this key represented the supreme consciousness. Later, when I was leaving the morning meditation at their gate, I felt another subtle gate close behind me, signalling that what needed to be done was done. From this point onwards, various new dimensions began to open within my experience of life. Lakshmana Swami left the body at age 100. Around the same time, the light of awakening dawned for me. I still feel a tremendous sense of gratitude to these two great wonderful beings!
The dzogchen teachings of Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche had perhaps the profoundest impact on me. I discovered that in dzogchen, awakening is actually taken as the starting point rather than the end of the path. In that tradition, awakening is seen as the point when a door opens and you can start training in the natural state. Reading Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche’s words every day, in a relaxed and joyful way, helped me to become more and more anchored in that state. These days my own way of guiding people in natural meditation is based more so on the Tibetan Buddhist Traditions of the Kagyu and Nyingma rather than any Indian School.
My connection to this Tradition and with Tulku Urgyen was also communicated to me through a beautiful dream I once had. In the dream, Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche took a piece of paper and simply wrote ‘ripga’ on it and gave it to me. In dzogchen, ‘rigpa’ means ‘the view’ or the truly natural perception of existence itself. I still feel a deep sense of connection and gratitude to these great dzogchen yogis, who codified the process of moving from awakened to perfectly enlightened, from yogihood to siddhahood, better than anyone else.
Later, I began to sit and meditate with his picture in front of me. Whenever I would do this, his mouth would shift into a smile and sometimes I would see the faces of different Sufi masters, perhaps from his lineage, being superimposed over his face. During these times, he would tell me different things about my connection to him and also about my future life in this world. At one point, he told me to sit facing a certain direction, and then he gave me a name in Arabic and told me that he had given me baya (initiation into his tradition). When I asked him if I should become a Sufi, he told me that my destiny in this life would be to represent the Datta Tradition and that I should go to meet Mohanji. When I went to visit his dargah, one man randomly gave me a mala.
After meeting Mohanji, I later went to stay at his house/ashram for some time in Bangalore, India. In that house, there is an extremely powerful shrine room, which contains pictures of many masters and deities. One such picture on the right wall is of the great avadhuta, Shiva Prabhkara Siddha Yogi, who was known to have lived for hundreds and hundreds of years (the story of how Mohanji received this picture is told in the book BABA: Mohanji and Masters). When I saw this picture, I felt a tremendous sense of magnetic attraction to him. I even put his picture as the background/screensaver on my phone.
After this experience, I haven’t had any communion experiences with masters and neither do I receive any telepathic communications. Though I am grateful for all of these beautiful experiences, I don’t place any importance on having visions or hearing things. For all I know, all these experiences could have been hallucinations. For me, the point of this path is to be free and totally at peace. Now I just live. Now I am happy to simply be and exist.
