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Offering A Flower To Krishnamurti

At lunch, during an Educators Retreat, a long-time educator opens up about an intimate experience that has shaped a lot of who he is today.

Seeking enlightenment, a young man renounces the world and joins Osho in Pune. He is practically penniless and possession-less, but happily cultivating inner transformation. Amongst Osho sannayasins, it seems, there was a regular practice of reading J. Krishnamurti (whom Osho also had a lot of respect for). Whenever they caught wind that Krishnamurti was delivering lectures in Mumbai, bunch of them would sneak out, share a taxi-ride and listen to him speak in person. Over time, this started to have a profound effect on this young educator -- so much so that one day he thought to himself, "Why am I here if Krishnamurti is the one that is speaking to the deepest longing of my heart?" He decided to leave the Osho commune and become a student of Krishnamurti.

Now, of course, Krishnamurti doesn't accept disciples. In fact, his entire message was against the teacher-student dichotomy. But this young man figures, "If my devotion and wish for inner transformation is pure, he will receive me and bless me." He goes to visit him. On the way, under a bridge, he sees a florist and he think of buying a flower as an offering to Krishnamurti. "One rupee," says the florist. "Really?" says the young monk who had practically nothing. "Sir, just smell the rose and you'll see why." He indulges and buys it for a rupee.

After his usual discourse, he inquires about a private appointment with JK. They tell him the process of taking the elevator and sitting in a small group with him. En route, he is swayed by another spontaneous thought: "Why should I seek his time? I should just stand in the parking lot and if my devotion is pure, he will receive me."

Okay, so plan B. He knows the route from which JK leaves the building and enters his car. Along the way, he plants himself, holding a flower. Seeing him, an organizer asks him, "What are you doing here?" "Sir, I want to offer a flower to Krishnamurti as he passes by." "A flower? Don't you know? He is totally against plucking flowers." "Oh really! I didn't know." And with that, the young man hides his hand (with the flower) in the back, and stands there waiting with deep reverence and humility.

Soon, Krishnamurti passes by. In fact, true to his reputation of walking fast, he whizzes by. But all of a sudden, he stops mid-way to his car. Turns around. Looks at the young man and walks toward him. Facing him, eye to eye, he stares for a few long moments. Then he extends his right hand and asks, "Do you have something for me?" Utterly in shock, he brings out the hidden flower behind his back and offers it. JK takes the flowers and sits in the car. For many moments, he looks at the rose and then looks back at the fellow. Looks at the rose and looks back, repeatedly for a while. Then, the car drives off.

From this moment, that young man became a devout student of J. Krishnamurti. As circumstances would have it, JK eventually asked him to translate many of his popular books into Hindi -- and he was also a live translator for many of his public dialogues. 

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