When filmmaker Paul Saltzman shared Indian ashram with the Beatles

T I grew up in Toronto. My father was Canada's first television weatherman. I have an older brother; unfortunately, we're not very close. I got thrown out of university for failing too many times. I was studying engineering science, but that was not me at all. I went south in the summer of 1965, to Mississippi, and volunteered in the civil rights movement with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee for three months. They didn't want black people to vote. Some were killed for just registering to vote, some were beaten, others lost their jobs. The system was totally geared to maintain white power and control. I had a run-in with a member of the Ku Klux Klan who punched me in the head. It was in front of the courthouse. This was the rule of Southern power.

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I went home to Canada and got offered some jobs in television and hosted my own youth public affairs show. I learn experientially. I've made over 300 films and no one ever taught me film. It's like if you want to do something, you just do it. I work a lot with young people using my films to help others move beyond prejudice. People think, "Oh, I'm not prejudiced" and then you start to have a conversation and you find there are lots of prejudices. It's the reptilian brain behaviour - that all blacks are armed and dangerous, if all blondes are ditzy, you don't want to ask a blonde how to get out of a natural disaster.

I worked at the National Film Board, in Montreal, first as a researcher then as a director. I'd already become somewhat famous and relationships with girls were easy, and I drove a sports car. One day, I woke up and I had a shocking thought: there were parts of myself I didn't like. So I sat on the edge of my bed and said, "What do I do about that?" And I heard my soul talk to me, it said: "Well, Paul, if you really want to look outside yourself more clearly you might want to get away from the environment you grew up in." I said, "Where do I go?" And it said, "India." That day at lunch I went up to a director I knew was making a documentary in India. He said, "Have you ever done sound?" And I, lying through my teeth, in a heartbeat, said, "Absolutely." Then I went to a sound engineer friend and said, "Please teach me."

We filmed in India for six weeks. Then I got a letter from my girlfriend - I only remember the first line, "Dear Paul, I've moved in with Henry." I was devastated. An American chap said, "Why don't you try meditation, I'm going to hear Maharishi Mahesh Yogi speak at Delhi University. Do you want to come?" I knew nothing about meditation, I just knew I needed something for the pain. Maharishi said meditation takes you within, to where you find healing and you come back renewed and refreshed. I needed that, so I took a train to Rishikesh. At the gates of the ashram I was told the ashram was closed because the Beatles and their wives were there. I explained about my heartbreak and agony and was told I could sleep in one of the tents across from the ashram. It was 1968, the Beatles were probably the most famous guys in the world and the world's press came. It was one of the biggest stories on the planet - the Beatles have come to India and they have disappeared into this ashram. Each day, they were told the ashram was closed. I wasn't there looking for a guru or a father figure - but I have a feeling John (Lennon) was.