But Krishnamurti was different. He wasn't beat, and he didn't look like a mystic in his three-piece suit. He just sat there, unanxious, looking at his hands until the room fell silent. In the ...

In the beginning he was silent; looking down at his neatly folded hands, Krishnamurti was in no rush to break the silence. Finally he spoke, haltingly, concentrating on every word: "I am not the ...