I was born into a Hindu family in the UK, as my parents migrated there from Sindh in 1951. Mum was the most spiritual in the family, saying prayers each morning and evening, leading us in a Satyanarayan Puja on full moon.
When I was a teenager I said my first prayer to the God of the Bible, saying I'd follow His Ten Commandments if He gave me good luck (not that I knew what the Ten Commandments were!). I sensed a peace I had not known before, but it lasted just a few days, and when it left, I became angry with God, wondering why He had left me.
A few years later, I read about an orphan who had discovered his parents were alive — and it had not been their fault that they had been separated. I realized that if we could know God in the way a child could know parents who loved him or her, then I did not know Him like that. Instead, I saw God as a cosmic energy, powerful but impersonal.
I decided to search for God — I didn't want God to be able to say to me one day: "You didn’t even look." My search took me to different holy places in India — Amritsar, Haridwar, Rishikesh, Tirupati, and the Ganges at Varanasi. I tried meditation, but found that I became more self-centred rather than less!
If God was like a good Father, I wanted to know Him, but I became aware that I had put conditions on how I could know Him — I was only willing to come to God through certain religions. But who was I to put conditions on my Creator?
So a few days later as I lay in bed, I prayed, “I want to know you, God, on your terms, not mine.”
That prayer was significant, but I still did not sense the peace I had experienced before. I tried reading the Bible, and although I knew there was truth in it, it didn't connect with my heart.
Around that time a friend told me about Jesus, and I remember answering him in a patronising way, as if I had found the answer to my search, “I’m quite happy as I am!” The truth was he had found the answer to his search, while I was still searching, but to me, my friend appeared to have “blind faith” as I was not experiencing what he was.
Walking home one day six months later, I was reflecting on my life and I realised how arrogant, self-centred and sharp-tongued I was, not caring if people were hurt by what I said.
I decided to try praying to Jesus and prayed as I walked, “Jesus, I don’t know if you are God, but I’m sorry that I’m hurting others. If you are God, please forgive me, and you will be my God. I come on your terms, not mine.”
That night as I slept I sensed He was with me in the room; I was no longer spiritually alone. From then my life began to change.
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