A Hindu Convert's Story

by Dr. Mahendra P. Singhal
The Choice: To Follow The Lord Jesus Christ
The Price: To Go Alone With the Lord

Growing up in an orthodox Hindu home is to enjoy limited freedoms,
spiritually speaking. It was more than true in my case. I was

in a rigidly structured and despotically ruled Hindu home with
well-preserved traditions, well developed customs, and

expectations, along with, of course, a great deal of love,
understanding, and exhortation.

In spite of all the outward appearances of 'peace' in our home, I

to sense tension and dissatisfaction with situations as they used

erupt from time to time. Each new episode was a note of despair in

chorus of our miserable lives. Each chord echoed with an air of
helplessness that used to permeate every phase of our lives in our
simple home. I distinctly remember being told, over and over

that all our unhappiness was because of our karma coupled with the
wrath of the gods against our family. I could not understand what

had done to deserve this and what could be done to change it, and

father would not allow me to speak of it.
We went through the usual visits to the temples of various gods on

days in the year. I remember walking, sometimes riding a 'tonga'
(horse-driven vehicle), a long way to reach a particular temple of
Shiva, one of the three primary Hindu gods. The idol of Shiva was
frightening to behold. He was shown sitting on top of the world,
holding human skulls in his hands, with water running from his

and his eyes staring at you with a dreadful message: Worship me or

will be destroyed. The idol, decked with flowers, was always

with oil and red colour. The total effect was to create a feeling

foreboding and fear. You came away from the temple fearing what

future might hold and wishing, without any substantive hope, that

will be well and that he, Shiva, would be content with you. I was
never comfortable in the temple. The picture of Shiva used to

for days after the pilgrimage.
There was another god who was worshipped once a year in our home.

was Ganesha, the god with the head of an elephant and the body of

man. This god is supposed to be extremely beneficial. A son of

he is reverenced for averting dangers. We used to buy a new clay

of the god each year, and worship him on the appointed day,

to the family's traditions.
It was on one of Ganesha's celebrations that I became very

about our gods and our obeisance to them. I distinctly recall the
occasion. Sweets had been offered to Ganesha. We had been asked to
close our eyes and pray for his blessings upon the home. I do not

why but I could not close my eyes. I was horrified to see a small

descend upon the offerings that had been placed before the god and
Ganesha was unable to control this tiny creature. 'If he cannot
protect himself,' I said to myself, 'how can he protect this

lost faith in that god on that day; and I believe that my journey

discover the true God began at that event.
Two events occurred in rapid succession soon after that

One, my father insisted on my receiving training in the Hindu
scriptures, especially the Bhagavad-Gita, the Vedas, and the

Secondly, an ad in the local newspaper about a Bible

course led me to begin a study of the Bible.
The Vedas and the other books were interesting, but they were
decidedly speculative. There were no definite answers.
The Bible, on the other hand, pointed to definite answers. God

people. God made His love known to people, of His own initiative,

He sent Jesus Christ to the world. A God pleading for me was a
mind-boggling mystery.
While I was struggling to understand religions and religious

schoolwork was moving, as it were, along regular channels. After
receiving my masters degrees in mathematics and education, I was

to teach in a Christian boarding school in Mussoorie, India. The
school was run by Christian missionary societies to propagate
Christian truths to the students who were not necessarily

People attended this school because of its emphasis on academic
excellence and because the medium of instruction was English.

language was taught, encouraged, and developed. The school needed

mathematics instructor, and the principal, an Australian

was, as he later told me, led to offer me the position in spite of

fact that I was not a Christian. He (and I am grateful for his
willingness to listen to the Lord) responded to the leading of the
Lord not only in hiring me to teach in that school, but also in
witnessing to me, in words, in his separated living, and in his
priorities.
One of the Staff at the school mentioned the sacrificial death of
Jesus Christ on the Cross to me. 'He died,' he stated, 'for man to

free from his bondage to sin and to enjoy victorious life

That sounded wonderfully peaceful and achievable, but I dismissed

witness, because, in my opinion, it was too simple. There has to

much more to life than just simple faith in Christ's death on the
Cross. I had been trained to believe, in the words of the

'He truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge; he who
thinks that he knows, knows not.'
I had been led to believe in searching for answers, and I had been
taught that such a search could take many, many lives. Sages had
attempted to discover the truth and the reality of Brahman for
centuries, but without any success. I was under the conviction

real truth is found within oneself. God and man are essentially

Separation comes from being born in this illusory world that

man in its embrace and entices him away from finding the true

of life and existence. Deliverance is impossible unless one

the allurements of this world. I had been trained to believe that

is unknowable, and therefore, beyond the reach of man. And here

Jesus Christ, hanging on the Cross, bleeding to death at the hands

Roman soldiers, declaring His forgiveness for their crass

God searching for man, and not man looking for God within himself.
There was another dimension to my dilemma. Coming from the family

did, my acceptance of Jesus Christ would make my parents lose

social respect and position in the whole community. My brothers

sister would suffer disgrace. That, too, was unthinkable. Even

I was working away from home in a different environment, I did not
really feel free to make my own decisions. I tried to talk to some

the missionaries about my predicaments. They could not understand

heavy cultural factors. They felt that one should simply make a
decision to follow Jesus Christ and that is all that really

Some missionaries were totally ignorant of Hindu traditions and

social implications that they impose on people. They dismissed my
arguments as inconsequential. I was not ready to buy the argument

we live, and therefore die, only for ourselves, by ourselves.
The endless debate would have continued, I am sure, if I had not

Major Ian Thomas of the Torchbearers of England, who was holding
meetings in a church in Mussoorie. He took the time to listen to

hesitations, my arguments, and my analysis. He, with great

and keen insight, explained the claims of Jesus Christ on my life.
'Jesus Christ,' he explained, 'will enable you to solve your

after you accept Him. He will be on your side.'
Major Thomas did not lead me to the final surrender but he

for the final outcome. I knew, after spending almost five hours

him, what I had to do. There was no denying the fact that Christ

been calling me to accept Him as my personal Saviour and to follow
Him, irrespective of the cost. The call was extremely personal and
urgent. I mused about the possibilities for a few more days.

I could not get rid of pressures that were continuing to increase.

could sense that a decision had to be made.
I turned to Jesus Christ on July 16, 1963 at 2:00 a.m. in my

all by myself. He became my Saviour. Praise His wonderful Name!
I had not counted on the cost that was to be paid for the

however. I expected rejection and humiliation from my friends and
relatives. I even expected some mockery from some of them, but I

not ready for what came my way after my conversion: my own family
disowned me. I was no longer a part of the biological family in

I had been born. My friends shunned me. They began to avoid me as

had contracted some dreadful contagious disease.
With all the pains and burdens, with all the loneliness, and with

the struggles, I am nonetheless determined to follow the Lord. He

my Answer, my Salvation, my Friend. As Major Thomas assured me, He

never failed me; He has always been there, to help, to direct. I

not following an idea, a creed, or a philosophy; I am not

for an inner revelation; I am not working for a final deliverance.

I am following The Lord Jesus Christ, who is the final Revelation,

total Deliverance.

A Hindu Convert's Story

by Dr. Mahendra P. Singhal
The Choice: To Follow The Lord Jesus Christ
The Price: To Go Alone With the Lord

Growing up in an orthodox Hindu home is to enjoy limited freedoms,
spiritually speaking. It was more than true in my case. I was raised
in a rigidly structured and despotically ruled Hindu home with
well-preserved traditions, well developed customs, and well-formulated
expectations, along with, of course, a great deal of love,
understanding, and exhortation.
In spite of all the outward appearances of 'peace' in our home, I used
to sense tension and dissatisfaction with situations as they used to
erupt from time to time. Each new episode was a note of despair in the
chorus of our miserable lives. Each chord echoed with an air of
helplessness that used to permeate every phase of our lives in our
simple home. I distinctly remember being told, over and over again,
that all our unhappiness was because of our karma coupled with the
wrath of the gods against our family. I could not understand what we
had done to deserve this and what could be done to change it, and my
father would not allow me to speak of it.
We went through the usual visits to the temples of various gods on set
days in the year. I remember walking, sometimes riding a 'tonga'
(horse-driven vehicle), a long way to reach a particular temple of
Shiva, one of the three primary Hindu gods. The idol of Shiva was
frightening to behold. He was shown sitting on top of the world,
holding human skulls in his hands, with water running from his hair
and his eyes staring at you with a dreadful message: Worship me or you
will be destroyed. The idol, decked with flowers, was always smeared
with oil and red colour. The total effect was to create a feeling of
foreboding and fear. You came away from the temple fearing what the
future might hold and wishing, without any substantive hope, that all
will be well and that he, Shiva, would be content with you. I was
never comfortable in the temple. The picture of Shiva used to haunt me
for days after the pilgrimage.
There was another god who was worshipped once a year in our home. This
was Ganesha, the god with the head of an elephant and the body of a
man. This god is supposed to be extremely beneficial. A son of Shiva,
he is reverenced for averting dangers. We used to buy a new clay model
of the god each year, and worship him on the appointed day, according
to the family's traditions.
It was on one of Ganesha's celebrations that I became very disturbed
about our gods and our obeisance to them. I distinctly recall the
occasion. Sweets had been offered to Ganesha. We had been asked to
close our eyes and pray for his blessings upon the home. I do not know
why but I could not close my eyes. I was horrified to see a small rat
descend upon the offerings that had been placed before the god and
Ganesha was unable to control this tiny creature. 'If he cannot
protect himself,' I said to myself, 'how can he protect this house?' I
lost faith in that god on that day; and I believe that my journey to
discover the true God began at that event.
Two events occurred in rapid succession soon after that experience.
One, my father insisted on my receiving training in the Hindu
scriptures, especially the Bhagavad-Gita, the Vedas, and the others.
Secondly, an ad in the local newspaper about a Bible correspondence
course led me to begin a study of the Bible.
The Vedas and the other books were interesting, but they were
decidedly speculative. There were no definite answers.
The Bible, on the other hand, pointed to definite answers. God loves
people. God made His love known to people, of His own initiative, when
He sent Jesus Christ to the world. A God pleading for me was a
mind-boggling mystery.
While I was struggling to understand religions and religious ideas, my
schoolwork was moving, as it were, along regular channels. After
receiving my masters degrees in mathematics and education, I was hired
to teach in a Christian boarding school in Mussoorie, India. The
school was run by Christian missionary societies to propagate
Christian truths to the students who were not necessarily Christians.
People attended this school because of its emphasis on academic
excellence and because the medium of instruction was English. Proper
language was taught, encouraged, and developed. The school needed a
mathematics instructor, and the principal, an Australian missionary,
was, as he later told me, led to offer me the position in spite of the
fact that I was not a Christian. He (and I am grateful for his
willingness to listen to the Lord) responded to the leading of the
Lord not only in hiring me to teach in that school, but also in
witnessing to me, in words, in his separated living, and in his
priorities.
One of the Staff at the school mentioned the sacrificial death of
Jesus Christ on the Cross to me. 'He died,' he stated, 'for man to be
free from his bondage to sin and to enjoy victorious life forever.'
That sounded wonderfully peaceful and achievable, but I dismissed the
witness, because, in my opinion, it was too simple. There has to be
much more to life than just simple faith in Christ's death on the
Cross. I had been trained to believe, in the words of the Upanishads:
'He truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge; he who
thinks that he knows, knows not.'
I had been led to believe in searching for answers, and I had been
taught that such a search could take many, many lives. Sages had
attempted to discover the truth and the reality of Brahman for
centuries, but without any success. I was under the conviction that
real truth is found within oneself. God and man are essentially one.
Separation comes from being born in this illusory world that catches
man in its embrace and entices him away from finding the true meaning
of life and existence. Deliverance is impossible unless one renounces
the allurements of this world. I had been trained to believe that God
is unknowable, and therefore, beyond the reach of man. And here was
Jesus Christ, hanging on the Cross, bleeding to death at the hands of
Roman soldiers, declaring His forgiveness for their crass brutalities,
God searching for man, and not man looking for God within himself.
There was another dimension to my dilemma. Coming from the family I
did, my acceptance of Jesus Christ would make my parents lose their
social respect and position in the whole community. My brothers and
sister would suffer disgrace. That, too, was unthinkable. Even though
I was working away from home in a different environment, I did not
really feel free to make my own decisions. I tried to talk to some of
the missionaries about my predicaments. They could not understand the
heavy cultural factors. They felt that one should simply make a
decision to follow Jesus Christ and that is all that really matters.
Some missionaries were totally ignorant of Hindu traditions and the
social implications that they impose on people. They dismissed my
arguments as inconsequential. I was not ready to buy the argument that
we live, and therefore die, only for ourselves, by ourselves.
The endless debate would have continued, I am sure, if I had not met
Major Ian Thomas of the Torchbearers of England, who was holding
meetings in a church in Mussoorie. He took the time to listen to my
hesitations, my arguments, and my analysis. He, with great sensitivity
and keen insight, explained the claims of Jesus Christ on my life.
'Jesus Christ,' he explained, 'will enable you to solve your dilemmas
after you accept Him. He will be on your side.'
Major Thomas did not lead me to the final surrender but he prepared me
for the final outcome. I knew, after spending almost five hours with
him, what I had to do. There was no denying the fact that Christ had
been calling me to accept Him as my personal Saviour and to follow
Him, irrespective of the cost. The call was extremely personal and
urgent. I mused about the possibilities for a few more days. However,
I could not get rid of pressures that were continuing to increase. I
could sense that a decision had to be made.
I turned to Jesus Christ on July 16, 1963 at 2:00 a.m. in my bedroom,
all by myself. He became my Saviour. Praise His wonderful Name!
I had not counted on the cost that was to be paid for the decision,
however. I expected rejection and humiliation from my friends and
relatives. I even expected some mockery from some of them, but I was
not ready for what came my way after my conversion: my own family
disowned me. I was no longer a part of the biological family in which
I had been born. My friends shunned me. They began to avoid me as if I
had contracted some dreadful contagious disease.
With all the pains and burdens, with all the loneliness, and with all
the struggles, I am nonetheless determined to follow the Lord. He is
my Answer, my Salvation, my Friend. As Major Thomas assured me, He has
never failed me; He has always been there, to help, to direct. I am
not following an idea, a creed, or a philosophy; I am not searching
for an inner revelation; I am not working for a final deliverance. No,
I am following The Lord Jesus Christ, who is the final Revelation, the
total Deliverance.

A Hindu Convert's Story

by Dr. Mahendra P. Singhal
The Choice: To Follow The Lord Jesus Christ
The Price: To Go Alone With the Lord

Growing up in an orthodox Hindu home is to enjoy limited freedoms,
spiritually speaking. It was more than true in my case. I was raised
in a rigidly structured and despotically ruled Hindu home with
well-preserved traditions, well developed customs, and well-formulated
expectations, along with, of course, a great deal of love,
understanding, and exhortation.
In spite of all the outward appearances of 'peace' in our home, I used
to sense tension and dissatisfaction with situations as they used to
erupt from time to time. Each new episode was a note of despair in the
chorus of our miserable lives. Each chord echoed with an air of
helplessness that used to permeate every phase of our lives in our
simple home. I distinctly remember being told, over and over again,
that all our unhappiness was because of our karma coupled with the
wrath of the gods against our family. I could not understand what we
had done to deserve this and what could be done to change it, and my
father would not allow me to speak of it.
We went through the usual visits to the temples of various gods on set
days in the year. I remember walking, sometimes riding a 'tonga'
(horse-driven vehicle), a long way to reach a particular temple of
Shiva, one of the three primary Hindu gods. The idol of Shiva was
frightening to behold. He was shown sitting on top of the world,
holding human skulls in his hands, with water running from his hair
and his eyes staring at you with a dreadful message: Worship me or you
will be destroyed. The idol, decked with flowers, was always smeared
with oil and red colour. The total effect was to create a feeling of
foreboding and fear. You came away from the temple fearing what the
future might hold and wishing, without any substantive hope, that all
will be well and that he, Shiva, would be content with you. I was
never comfortable in the temple. The picture of Shiva used to haunt me
for days after the pilgrimage.
There was another god who was worshipped once a year in our home. This
was Ganesha, the god with the head of an elephant and the body of a
man. This god is supposed to be extremely beneficial. A son of Shiva,
he is reverenced for averting dangers. We used to buy a new clay model
of the god each year, and worship him on the appointed day, according
to the family's traditions.
It was on one of Ganesha's celebrations that I became very disturbed
about our gods and our obeisance to them. I distinctly recall the
occasion. Sweets had been offered to Ganesha. We had been asked to
close our eyes and pray for his blessings upon the home. I do not know
why but I could not close my eyes. I was horrified to see a small rat
descend upon the offerings that had been placed before the god and
Ganesha was unable to control this tiny creature. 'If he cannot
protect himself,' I said to myself, 'how can he protect this house?' I
lost faith in that god on that day; and I believe that my journey to
discover the true God began at that event.
Two events occurred in rapid succession soon after that experience.
One, my father insisted on my receiving training in the Hindu
scriptures, especially the Bhagavad-Gita, the Vedas, and the others.
Secondly, an ad in the local newspaper about a Bible correspondence
course led me to begin a study of the Bible.
The Vedas and the other books were interesting, but they were
decidedly speculative. There were no definite answers.
The Bible, on the other hand, pointed to definite answers. God loves
people. God made His love known to people, of His own initiative, when
He sent Jesus Christ to the world. A God pleading for me was a
mind-boggling mystery.
While I was struggling to understand religions and religious ideas, my
schoolwork was moving, as it were, along regular channels. After
receiving my masters degrees in mathematics and education, I was hired
to teach in a Christian boarding school in Mussoorie, India. The
school was run by Christian missionary societies to propagate
Christian truths to the students who were not necessarily Christians.
People attended this school because of its emphasis on academic
excellence and because the medium of instruction was English. Proper
language was taught, encouraged, and developed. The school needed a
mathematics instructor, and the principal, an Australian missionary,
was, as he later told me, led to offer me the position in spite of the
fact that I was not a Christian. He (and I am grateful for his
willingness to listen to the Lord) responded to the leading of the
Lord not only in hiring me to teach in that school, but also in
witnessing to me, in words, in his separated living, and in his
priorities.
One of the Staff at the school mentioned the sacrificial death of
Jesus Christ on the Cross to me. 'He died,' he stated, 'for man to be
free from his bondage to sin and to enjoy victorious life forever.'
That sounded wonderfully peaceful and achievable, but I dismissed the
witness, because, in my opinion, it was too simple. There has to be
much more to life than just simple faith in Christ's death on the
Cross. I had been trained to believe, in the words of the Upanishads:
'He truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge; he who
thinks that he knows, knows not.'
I had been led to believe in searching for answers, and I had been
taught that such a search could take many, many lives. Sages had
attempted to discover the truth and the reality of Brahman for
centuries, but without any success. I was under the conviction that
real truth is found within oneself. God and man are essentially one.
Separation comes from being born in this illusory world that catches
man in its embrace and entices him away from finding the true meaning
of life and existence. Deliverance is impossible unless one renounces
the allurements of this world. I had been trained to believe that God
is unknowable, and therefore, beyond the reach of man. And here was
Jesus Christ, hanging on the Cross, bleeding to death at the hands of
Roman soldiers, declaring His forgiveness for their crass brutalities,
God searching for man, and not man looking for God within himself.
There was another dimension to my dilemma. Coming from the family I
did, my acceptance of Jesus Christ would make my parents lose their
social respect and position in the whole community. My brothers and
sister would suffer disgrace. That, too, was unthinkable. Even though
I was working away from home in a different environment, I did not
really feel free to make my own decisions. I tried to talk to some of
the missionaries about my predicaments. They could not understand the
heavy cultural factors. They felt that one should simply make a
decision to follow Jesus Christ and that is all that really matters.
Some missionaries were totally ignorant of Hindu traditions and the
social implications that they impose on people. They dismissed my
arguments as inconsequential. I was not ready to buy the argument that
we live, and therefore die, only for ourselves, by ourselves.
The endless debate would have continued, I am sure, if I had not met
Major Ian Thomas of the Torchbearers of England, who was holding
meetings in a church in Mussoorie. He took the time to listen to my
hesitations, my arguments, and my analysis. He, with great sensitivity
and keen insight, explained the claims of Jesus Christ on my life.
'Jesus Christ,' he explained, 'will enable you to solve your dilemmas
after you accept Him. He will be on your side.'
Major Thomas did not lead me to the final surrender but he prepared me
for the final outcome. I knew, after spending almost five hours with
him, what I had to do. There was no denying the fact that Christ had
been calling me to accept Him as my personal Saviour and to follow
Him, irrespective of the cost. The call was extremely personal and
urgent. I mused about the possibilities for a few more days. However,
I could not get rid of pressures that were continuing to increase. I
could sense that a decision had to be made.
I turned to Jesus Christ on July 16, 1963 at 2:00 a.m. in my bedroom,
all by myself. He became my Saviour. Praise His wonderful Name!
I had not counted on the cost that was to be paid for the decision,
however. I expected rejection and humiliation from my friends and
relatives. I even expected some mockery from some of them, but I was
not ready for what came my way after my conversion: my own family
disowned me. I was no longer a part of the biological family in which
I had been born. My friends shunned me. They began to avoid me as if I
had contracted some dreadful contagious disease.
With all the pains and burdens, with all the loneliness, and with all
the struggles, I am nonetheless determined to follow the Lord. He is
my Answer, my Salvation, my Friend. As Major Thomas assured me, He has
never failed me; He has always been there, to help, to direct. I am
not following an idea, a creed, or a philosophy; I am not searching
for an inner revelation; I am not working for a final deliverance. No,
I am following The Lord Jesus Christ, who is the final Revelation, the
total Deliverance.