THIS ABOVE ALL
Man who refused to be God
KHUSHWANT SINGH

Among the few Indians I admire is film producer Mahesh Bhatt. During the times when I could go to cinema, I saw Saransh and thought it first-rate. I was told he made some even better. He was regarded as somewhat of a genius among film directors.

It was not for his films I admired him but for one who spoke out boldly against the hooligans who inflicted violence on others not of their faith or region. This took some courage as he spent his boyhood years in Shivaji Park, the epicentre of Shiv Sainiks, who periodically rough up Muslims, Tamilians, Biharis and Uttar Pradeshis.

Now I have another reason to admire him: he also writes very well. I’ve just finished reading his A Taste of Life? The Last Days of U.G. Krishnamurti (Penguin). I did not know he had also dabbled in spiritual pursuits and had been a chela of Acharya Rajneesh (Osho) till he ran into U.G. Krishnamurti and switched over his loyalties.

Uppaluri Gopala Krishnamurti, always referred to as UG, was the son of an Andhra Brahmin lawyer. He dropped out of college to pursue the quest for the truth of life and moksha (salvation). He followed the traditional path of Indian seekers: meditated in a Himalayan cave, sought the counsel of Ramanna Maharishi and rejected them with scorn.

He joined the Theosophical Society of Jiddu Krishnamurti. Since he was a good speaker, he was sent abroad. He delivered lectures in European countries and America.

Finally, he also rejected theosophy. He had a magnetic personality and soon a cult grew around him. Much as he tried to diminish his stature, it grew bigger and bigger. I quote his words: "I am not a Godman; I would rather be called a fraud. The quest for God has become an obsessive factor in the lives of human beings because of the impossibility of achieving pleasure without pain. The messy thing called the mind has created many destructive things but the most destructive thing, by far, is God. God has become the ultimate pleasure. The variations of God, self-realisation, moksha, liberation, the fashionable gimmicks of transformation, the first and the last freedom and all the freedoms that come in between, are pushing man into a state of manic depression".

UG made a mess of his own life. He got married, then deserted his wife and child and asked for a divorce.

Mahesh Bhatt was a kindered soul: son of Brahmin father and a Muslim mother. Besides making films, he went on a spiritual quest of his own. For a while he became a devotee of Acharya Rajneesh (Osho) and stayed in his ashram in Pune. Osho gave him a necklace of rudraksh beads to wear. He married and had a family. He had a torrid affair with Parveen Babi. In a violent quarrel, his necklace broke. He flushed the beads in the toilet. Osho heard about it and was enraged.

Bhatt’s book is on UG’s last days and death in an Italian seaside town Vallecrosia in March 2007. Most of it is about UG lying on bed in a room warmed by a log fire, surrounded by admirers who kept a 24-hour vigil to see life slowly ebb out of him. "What is death?" asked UG and answered: "Death is a process which occurs within that space called ‘you’. And when it occurs, it leads to the disintegration of that form called ‘you’. We call this disintegration ‘death’. When you interfere with this occurrence, you interfere with the steam of life".

"Waiting for death is like waiting for the sun to rise. One cannot hit the fast forward button and make things more faster or slow time. Death will happen when it happens".

As one would expect, UG did not want any monuments raised in his memory. He was cremated and the ashes immersed in the Mediterranean.

Though somewhat repetitive, Mahesh Bhatt’s narrative makes compelling reading. UG did not want to be God; Mahesh Bhatt has made him out as one.

Well tried

"Twentynine years ago Demetrius Soupolos and his former beauty queen wife Traute wanted a child badly", a solicitor told a court in Stuttgart, "and had spent several years unsuccessfully trying to conceive. When Soupolos went to a fertility doctor and discovered that he was sterile, his wife was distraught, so he asked his neighbour Frank Maus for assistance. Maus was already married with two children, and he looked a lot like Soupolos, so a plan of action was agreed. Soupolos would hire Maus for a lumpsum of 2,500 Euros, and in return Maus would get Traute pregnant.

"Traute initially objected to the plan, but was placated by Maus, who told her, ‘I don’t like this any more than you do. I’m simply doing it for the money?’"

Over the next six months, Maus spent three evenings each week trying to impregnate Traute, a total of 72 times, but without success. At this point, Soupolos insisted that Maus should have a medical examination, and discovery that he too was sterile shocked everyone, especially Maus’ wife, who subsequently confessed that he was not the real father of their two children.

"Soupolos is now suing Maus for the breach of contract, in an attempt to get his 2,500 Euros back. But Maus refuses, saying that he never guaranteed conception, only that he would give an honest effort. Which he did."