It is abundantly clear that the death of his brother Nitya in 1925 had a tremendous impact on Krishnamurti.
Still on the boat to India, he already wrote the following article for the Herald Tribune:
" While still on the boat. Krishnamurti wrote an article about Nitya’s death. The article appeared in The Herald of January 1926. The article is reproduced in full below, as it depicts, more than anything else, how the death of Nitya affected Krishnamurti.
The pleasant dreams that my brother and I had of the physical life are over; the dream of being together, of seeing each other doing things, of travelling together, of amusing ourselves together, of talking and joking with each other and of all those little things that contribute as much to a life of pleasant enjoyment. We used to have many dreams of working together— for the Star, the Education, and for realm politics; of the manner in which we should set about the achievement thereof, following imaginatively, for admiration, the great Forerunners of humanity. We would be talking excitedly and a passing car would attract our attention. We would both admire, if it were a good car, the beauty and the soft running of an engine and wish that we were driving in a big powerful car along a smooth road, under the trees. From such a lovely drive, our minds would go back to something very serious: why such and such a person is not getting on happily in the life of the Masters. Silence was of special delight to both of us; it was then easy to understand one another’s thoughts and feelings. Occasional irritation with each other was by no means forgotten, but we never went very far as it passed off in a few minutes. We used to sing comic songs or chant together as the occasion demanded. We both of us liked the same cloud, the same tree and the same music. We had great fun in life although we were of different temperaments. We somehow understood each other without effort. I suppose this was but natural, as he and I were scarcely far away from each other for any length of time. It was a happy life and in this life I shall miss him always. An old dream is dead and a new one is being born, as a flower that pushes through the solid earth. A new vision is coming into being and a greater consciousness is being unfolded. A new and more beautiful aspect of the same old truths of life is becoming clear, and the beauty of old things, whether open or obscure, has now a different meaning with a different delight. A new thrill and a new throb is being felt. A new strength, born of suffering is pulsating in the veins and a new sympathy and understanding is being born of past sufferings— a greater desire to see other people suffer less, and if they must suffer, to see that they bear it easily and come out of it without too many scars. I have wept but I do not want others to weep; but if they do, I now know what it means. Forget the event, and remember the lesson. Anyway, I believe in life after death; and as it happens, I have seen my brother. Now I have seen him happy as a bird in the blue skies, for it is a tremendous relief for him to be released from that body. Now he can work and our dreams will come true. On the physical plane we could be separated. Now we are inseparable. We both shall enjoy the fun of life and laugh together even though he is not in his body. He and I shall work together with greater purpose and enthusiasm. His great capacities will not be wasted, his hopes will not fail to bear fruit. For my brother and I are one. As Krishnamurti, I have now greater zeal, greater faith, greater sympathy and greater love, for there is also in me, the essence, the Being of Nityananda. I now possess two minds, two emotional bodies, which have had many experiences, have entertained many points of view, all working for one thing, the Master, the Teacher, the Lover. So he is not gone but is working unhindered by all the ugliness of the gross world. And so I am happy because we are one and there is no separation, and because we want and long to work for our Teachers. I know how to weep still, but that is human. I know now, with greater certainty than ever before, that there is a real beauty in life, real happiness which cannot be shattered by any physical happening, a great strength which cannot be weakened by passing events, and a great love which is permanent, imperishable and unconquerable. Even though there is much ugliness in this world, thank God, there is also the beauty of the freshness of a dawn in the other world. That dawn is slowly enveloping us, every one of us, however small he may be, and do not let us suffer too much before we perceive the beauty of a coming day. Sorrow is wonderful if you can taste it in the divine cup; suffering gives strength if you can work with the Gods of understanding. I am happy, not that I do not miss my friend and my brother, but because I have drunk at the fountain of human sorrow and suffering, for which I have received strength. We two are happy because both have drunk at the same fountain and we both desire to beautify and ennoble the ugliness around us. Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep He hath awakened from the dream of life ’Tis we, who, lost in strong visions, Keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit’s knife Invulnerable nothings. We decay like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief Convulse us and consume us day by day. And cold hopes swarm like worms Within our living clay. He who has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny, and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world’s slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain; Nor, where the spirit’s self has ceased to burn, With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
To perpetuate the memory of my brother’s name, the first college at Madanpalle will be called Nityananda College. I shall be grateful if everyone will send, however small the sum, something for this purpose, that we may all share together in building up a really wonderful College in my brother’s name."
What is not clear is that in 1926 while in India there is nothing to find of public talks, the first publication I could find is from 1927. Did he take a sabattical ?