Nirvaan Singh

2003

Woodlands SDA Church

Farming, Inventing, oil Painting, Evangelism, Cooking and feeding the needy, business

Psalm 1 1 Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, 2 but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.

Proverbs, Daniel & Rev

Maranatha by EG White

KJV

My Journey to Faith
The Spiritual Memoirs of Nirvaan Singh
“A Man of Sorrows”

I was born and raised in the vibrant suburb of Greenwood Park, Durban, South Africa, enveloped in the traditions and practices of a Hindu household and the eldest of three siblings. The rhythm of my life followed the familiar beats of our cultural heritage, steeped in rituals, ceremonies at the local temple, and teachings passed down through generations. Growing up, my identity was closely intertwined with the beliefs and customs that had shaped my family for years.

During my teenage years, my soul found solace in crafting melodies through songwriting, giving voice to my heart through singing. Dance and art also captivated my spirit, filling every spare moment with their beauty and resonance. These creative passions became the canvas upon which my faith found its most vibrant expression.

During my high school days, sports presented my ultimate challenge, pushing me to excel and triumph in various events. The collection of trophies and awards became a testament to the dedication and effort I poured into every competition, marking a chapter of personal victories and perseverance.

While my heart found joy in sports and cherished hobbies both at school and home, my academic journey faltered. Despite the happiness these activities brought me, my schoolwork suffered, and I struggled in various aspects of my studies.

Growing up, my father carried the heavy burden of his own upbringing, raised without a father in poverty, he tirelessly worked to support his siblings. Unfortunately, this struggle manifested in his treatment towards me. His actions were often harsh, and I endured his abusive behavior, leaving an indelible mark on my formative years.

There were times when my father's dissatisfaction with my behavior led to extreme actions. My clothes would be thrown outside or even burned, leaving me with little to call my own. During my school years, I found myself spending many months seeking refuge with friends or in abandoned houses within our neighborhood, trying to find stability amidst the tumultuous environment at home.

At the age of 16, I sought solace in alcohol,cigarettes and marijuana , turning to them in moments when I felt overwhelmed and seeking a way to cope with the challenges I faced.

Towards the latter end of my schooling years my father emphasized working in the family businesses during weekdays after school and on weekends, prioritizing this over pursuing my own dreams and forging a career path that resonated with my aspirations.

Following my school years, I pursued my passion for graphic design at ML Sultan Technikon for the first semester, achieving remarkable success and commendable marks across various art genres. However, this phase was short-lived. At my father's behest, I traveled to London, England, to learn about business and work at his friends' shoe shops. Despite this endeavor being brief, I eventually returned to South Africa, which further fueled my father's anger and disappointment.

As fate would have it, shortly after returning from the UK, I found myself at my neighbor's house and began dating his daughter, Angeline Chantal Pillay. This unexpected turn further set me on a path toward self-destruction. She been just 16 at the time while I myself was 19 years of age.

Our relationship faced severe hostility and anger from her parents and brother, encountering vehement opposition for various reasons. We encountered numerous challenges and obstacles that tested us in multiple ways.

So, we clandestinely navigated our way, meeting in secrecy until one pivotal day when she confided in me, expressing her suspicion of being pregnant. She urged me to accompany her for a checkup to confirm this uncertain reality.

To our surprise, the confirmation came she was indeed pregnant. This revelation signaled a drastic shift in our paths, altering the course of our lives in unforeseen ways.

Breaking the news to our families was a daunting task. Filled with apprehension, we both grappled with uncertainty about their reactions. Together, we made the decision to inform my parents first and then hers. My mother, understandably concerned due to our youth, was devastated but stood firm against the notion of abortion, emphasizing its unviability. However, her mother misinterpreted my mother's concern as a lack of desire for the child.
I not only desired our baby but also longed to marry her, aspiring to build a future and a family together. Despite my youth, 19 years at that time, I was steadfastly committed and prepared to shoulder all the responsibilities that lay ahead.

Our families rallied behind us, offering unwavering support as we embarked on planning a grand Indian wedding. Amidst the preparations, both our families joined forces, coming together in unity and harmony to celebrate our union.

The wedding day arrived, a joyous occasion celebrated with family members from far and wide. The Hindu festivities continued for a week or more, marking a time of unity and jubilation. In anticipation of the grandchild, my father extended and renovated the family home, adding new furniture and amenities to ensure a comfortable environment for my wife during her pregnancy.

After the wedding, I noticed a shift in My wife’s demeanor and mood. This change became more evident while I worked at one of the family businesses which was a fabric and clothing store.

I held hope that things would take a turn for the better after the birth of our son. My Son came into this world on the 25th of November 1990. In a dream, his name was bestowed upon me, and upon researching its significance, I discovered that it translates to "Son of a King."

As time moved forward, I observed Angeline becoming more discontented and withdrawing further. In our own struggles we grappled with vices, alcohol, drugs, and infidelity became an unfortunate part of our lives. Four years later, our daughter was born on the 21st of January 1994.

Despite our deep love for each other, external interference's, family disputes, and forbidden temptations gradually led us to drift apart.

But not could prepare me for what was about to come. Amidst escalating arguments and physical confrontations, I felt the pressing need for a break. Seeking respite, I traveled up to Johannesburg to spend a week or two with my family.

A week later on a Tuesday the 16th of January 1996 I received a phone call at my aunt's place that my wife was killed in a car crash after dropping off a guy she was secretly seeing at the airport.

I was utterly devastated beyond words. The shock was overwhelming, I hadn't foreseen this tragic turn of events. Feeling completely lost and clueless, I had no idea how to cope or what to expect upon my return home.

I prefer not to mention the events on my return including the hostility and pain through the funeral and days to follow everything was just a blur.




My conversion

More than a week had slipped away, enveloped in Hindu ceremonies and prayers to honor the departed. Yet, after the rituals concluded, I found myself alone in my room, drowning my profound sorrows with whiskey. In the midst of my grief, I questioned the very existence of the universal God, seeking answers amid the overwhelming pain.

That very night, I stood outside the local temple, pounding on its doors, tears streaming down my face as I screamed out to God. In my anguish, I demanded to know why this tragedy had befallen me, grappling with the question of who God truly is. Growing up, I ardently sought to understand Him, delving into Hindu prayers and scriptures, yet now, amidst the pain, I found myself seeking answers and wrestling with unanswered questions.

Not before long, I was to receive a direct and personal answer from the King and the Lord of the Universe Himself.

The very next day, in a mysterious and destined way, the God of the Universe had an appointment with me that would alter my life forever.

You see, my mother possessed a cupboard adorned with a drawer filled with sacred Hindu scriptures such as the Bhagavad Gita, the Veda’s and numerous divine life books.

Desiring to unravel the mystery of God's role in the turmoil I faced, I reached for a sophisticated-looking book from the cupboard. Its cover bore a rose, reminiscent of the
“Hare Krishna” publications stored there.

Doubtful of my ability to comprehend its contents due to my struggles as a poor reader in school, I hesitated, unsure if I could even grasp its teachings.
As I flipped to the opening page, I held a book in my hands, unaware of its significance. Skipping past the initial sections and the introduction, my gaze fell upon the first chapter titled "John," with the opening verse that read, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." And as I continued to slowly read word for word a scary but awakening awareness dawn on me.

I had no idea that this was a bible I was reading let alone how it got into our home. I harbored a deep resentment toward Christians, having been raised with the staunch belief that I was born a Hindu and would die as one was my committed Hindu mantra. My disdain for Christians was so intense that during my drunken episodes, I would hurl stones onto the roof of a local pastor's house as an act of my revulsion.

As I sat there, completely absorbed in reading and comprehending each word, a profound realization struck me, the book in my hands was no ordinary book. Its words were from the Bible, and when the name Jesus appeared, everything started to change within me.

Tears began streaming down my cheeks, and an overwhelming eagerness consumed me as everything started to fall into place started to make sense. It felt as though scales were lifted from my eyes, and in that moment, it was as if God Himself was speaking directly to me.

Upon realizing the truth that all along there was no other true God but Jesus Himself, I was overcome with emotions, wailing like a newborn baby experiencing a profound new birth within.

Gradually, I placed the book gently on the counter in front of me, then leaned back and drifted into a deep and tranquil sleep. I found myself whisked away into a dream, lifted into a higher realm far above the earth, soaring into the heavens. There, I witnessed myself standing upon a translucent golden surface. Before me stood a man larger than any I had ever seen, adorned in white robes cinched with a golden belt across his chest. His curly, white hair framed his countenance. He began to speak to me in a language so melodious, yet entirely unfamiliar to my ears.

Initially unfamiliar with the language, each word began to resonate and make perfect sense, I was granted a profound understanding. Calling me by my name, he spoke, "Nirvaan, this Jesus you've just read about, ensure you follow Him for the rest of your life."
Those were His words as He turned and walked away, leaving me to continue sleeping.

Thus, my transformation commenced, and upon awakening, I found myself becoming an entirely new person. Though the pain of losing a loved one never entirely fades, I began to grasp a deeper understanding of the events that had transpired. On that very day, I began sharing with my friends the revelation that Jesus is truly God, expressing my new found desire to embrace Christianity.