My name is Somwati, and my husband’s name is Harnam. We live in the village of Khaspur in Ambala district, Haryana, India. We have four daughters and three sons. We are Hindus and belong to the Jogi caste.
The Jogi consider themselves equivalent to the Brahmans, and the Brahmans accept them. Jogis wear the sacred thread and conduct religious ceremonies that include singing and playing musical instruments. They do not work but instead beg for alms.
I have constructed a Hindu temple in a special room in my home. The room also contains pictures and idols of many popular gods and goddesses. Our family spends most of our time in this room, singing bajans (religious songs) and playing musical instruments. Our neighbors and some people from afar come to worship and give offerings in our home temple.
Seeds of curiosity
Often we are invited to people’s homes to hold religious ceremonies. We do healings and free people from evil spirits. We participate in jagratas—all-night singing of Hindu religious songs.
Over the years we have earned great respect in our community. I am considered special by everyone because my hair is twisted and matted into huge serpentlike plaits around my head. It’s like that of other sadhus or Hindu holy men.
One day, my eldest son suddenly became ill. We performed many ceremonies and gave offerings to appease the gods, but nothing worked, and he died. This shattered our family and caused us to question our beliefs.
During our time of mourning, I met a woman who lived nearby. Once we became acquainted, Rajkumari told me about her beliefs, her God and the way she worshipped. She told me that she and her family go to church on Saturdays. I was curious and told her to visit with me whenever she could. We became friends, and she began to tell me about Jesus.
Waiting outside
I liked the stories she told me. One day we went to Barara to shop. Rajkumari told me her church was in this town. She took me to the church, but I was afraid that if I entered the building where low-caste people worshipped I would disgrace my caste and anger the gods and goddesses. I sat outside while she went in.
Later, Rajkumari told me that people come to worship in the church, and every one sings songs. Then the pastor reads from the Bible and teaches them. She also told me that there are no idols or pictures of their God in the church. I was very amazed. I promised myself that one day I would go inside and see this place called a church.
After a few months, Rajkumari and I went to her church in Barara. I went inside and saw a group of people singing and clapping their hands. They looked so happy. And, just like Rajkumari had told me, there were no idols.
After some time, an ordinary looking man stood up and prayed. Then he read and taught from the Bible. I felt peaceful. I wanted to keep coming to this place.
Because of my heavy, twisted and dirty hair, I had a constant headache. But when the pastor prayed for the sick, I felt relieved, as if the load had been taken off my head.
When I went back home I felt sick, and the headache returned. I remembered that as long as I was in the church I felt good and very peaceful, while at home, in my temple, all I felt was sadness. As I looked at my house and all the pictures and idols, I began to cry, and I cried for many hours. My family asked me the reason, but I could not explain why I was crying.
The next week, when I asked Rajkumari to take me to church, she was surprised but happy. Once I entered the church, the peace that I had felt came on me, and I was very happy. For three hours I listened to the songs, the prayers and the sermon from the Bible. I began to like everything.
Finding peace
After I came back home, I kept pestering Rajkumari about this new kind of religion. I always thought Christians were low-caste people, and we should have nothing to do with them. In fact, I had told everyone to stay away from them. Now I wanted to know more.
I continued to visit the church at Barara and learned many things about God. I knew who the true God was. One day I came home and collected all the pictures and idols of the gods and goddesses and put them in a big sack.
When I removed these items, I felt as if I had won some kind of a battle. I felt so peaceful and so good. I prayed to God and asked Him to guide me and my family. Then I called Sharan Masih, the pastor of the church in Barara, to tell him what I had done. He came and prayed for me and my family and removed all the idols I had placed in the sack.
I stopped all my past activities and told the pastor I wanted to be baptized. By this act of baptism, I wanted to tell everyone I had changed and found the true God.
Just before my baptism, the pastor cut my hair. Then I was baptized. The following week, the rest of my family members took baptism. Today I am very happy, and so are my family members.