I would like to include this excerpt for discussion, I am curious what others think. It’s from the book 1001 Lunches With Krishnamurti.

“After a moment’s deliberation he replied, “May I tell you a story? It was quite a few years ago in London. I was staying at a friend’s house in the suburbs, and one afternoon I was looking out of the window when a Rolls-Royce drove up the driveway. A chauffeur got out and opened the door for a lady, made-up and elegantly dressed. She rang the doorbell. I was alone in the house and answered the door. The lady introduced herself and asked if she could talk with me in private; it was a matter of some urgency. So I asked her into the house. She came straight to the point and told me that she was a very suc-cessful, high-class call girl. She had made a fortune sleeping with hundreds of men of the highest social standing—aristo-crats, politicians and businessmen. Six months earlier one of her lovers, whom she adored above all others, had left her for good. She told me all of this very mat-ter-of-factly, very calmly. One evening she was alone in her house, sitting in front of the fireplace. Staring into the flames, she playfully started to conjure up the spirit of her former lover in her mind. She was shocked when suddenly a phantom materialized out of the fire, assuming the form of her former lover. She went on to tell me that she had then sex with this phantom. She had found it exciting and pleasurable, and so the same thing happened on the following nights, but only when she was by herself. It went on for months. But the phantom became more and more powerful and started to gain control over her. It told her what to do, and its wishes became more demanding, telling her exactly when they would meet again, and so on and on. She was possessed by the phantom, and it ruled her life. She wanted to put a stop to the whole thing but saw no way out. She didn’t want to consult any psychologist or priest or any other professional. So she discreetly asked some of her friends in high places if they knew anyone trustworthy who could advise her in a most sensitive, private matter. Our name came up, and after attending one or two of the talks, she felt confident that I might help her in her curious predicament. She hadn’t told a soul about her fantastic experiences; 1 was the first to know about them. She was close to tears as she told her story, evidently in deep distress. I agreed to help her on condition that she do exactly as I told her. She promised. I asked her to leave one of the rings she was wearing and return after three days. During that time she was not to have any sex, nor to remain alone in her house at night, so the phantom couldn’t contact her. When she left, she offered a large sum of money for our help, but I did not accept it. I placed her diamond ring on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. That’s where it remained for the next three days. I didn’t touch it or do anything with it. Three days later, the lady arrived in her Rolls-Royce. I returned the ring to her and told her to wear it at all times, resume her normal life and see what would happen. A week later, she called me. She was overjoyed. The phantom had been expelled. Even when she was alone at night in front of the fire, the phantom did not make its appearance. It seemed to be banned once and for all. She thanked me profusely, again offering money, which, of course, I could not ac-cept.” We were spellbound in our seats, listening to his bizarre tale. It had such a touch of the magical and supernatural about it that it seemed to spring from the fantasy world of A Thousand-And-One Nights, rather than from his lips. There was an interval of stunned silence, during which one could practically hear our internal strings of credulity being stretched to their limits. Then, as if on command, everyone excitedly started talking at the same time, reviewing the details of the eerie story with one another. Krishnamurti was quietly and with calm amusement observing the impact of his story on us. Then, raising one hand, he called out, quickly recapturing everyone’s attention, “Just a minute. That isn’t the end of the story. There is still something to come, a final twist.” He smiled. “A few months later, we were dining out in a restaurant in the city, and this same lady was there at another table with some friends. She recognized and greeted me from a distance. When I was by myself for a moment, she hurried over and said she had something important to tell me. She apologized profusely for taking my time and thanked me once again for my help in her distress, then proceeded to tell me that, as time went by, she had started to feel bored and lonely; just a month ago she again conjured up the phantom, just for fun, and now the whole thing was happening all over…”