In the place where I was born, and probably elsewhere in our country, religious sensitivity is very high. If a Muslim were to be asked to swear by the Gita or a Hindu by the Quran, there would be riots. But no one is bothered about the feelings of us, the non-believers! In order to spare people from taking oaths on a variety of books, in the courts of Karnataka a placard is hung in the witness box from which one reads: “I swear in the name of God that what I say will be the truth and nothing but the truth.” This is supposed to be a secular form of oath. In a place called Shimoga, about 200 km from Mangalore, an atheist refused to take an oath in the name of God and was hauled up for contempt of court. He appealed to the High Court, which set that aside and came down heavily on the judge for trying to impose his religious beliefs on a witness.

My first brush with this form of oath was in 1980, when I got married under what is called the Special Marriage Act. This act enables us—those without any religious beliefs—to get married without any religious rituals. The registrar, when he came to the house, wrote on the application: “Registration of a Hindu marriage under the Special Marriage Act.” I told him, “Sorry, strike that off.” He said, “What is the problem? You are both Hindus.” I replied, “No, I am not.” During the marriage “ceremony,” he told me to hold up my right hand and swear that I take so-and-so as my wife in the name of God. I told him, “No, no ‘name of God’ business.” He looked at me like a master chef espying a fly in the soup and said, “OK, omit the God.” So, I took the oath without the name of the non-existent God.

My next brush with oaths was a few years later. As a consumer activist, I had filed a complaint against Reader’s Digest, who were running some sort of cheating lottery to promote subscriptions, at the Monopolies and Restrictive Trade Practices Commission of India. Mangalore to Delhi was a three-day trip in those days! After going to the hearing, I was sworn in as a witness. As per my usual practice, I refused to take an oath in the name of God. There was no expression of surprise at all—the judge said, “You can solemnly affirm,” and I did that. The lawyer for the magazine was asked, “Do you have any questions for the witness?” He said no. I remarked, “Just for this I had to come all the way to Delhi, spending a week of my time?” The judge looked sternly at me and asked, “Young man, are you employed?” I said, “Yes, sir.” Then he said, “Has your employer given you leave on duty?” I said, “Yes, sir.” “I am giving you first-class train fare; take that and go. If you utter one more word, I will haul you up for contempt of court. As a citizen, you are duty-bound to attend as a witness when summoned. If you don’t, the court will make you attend by a warrant!” I said, “Yes sir, sorry sir,” and scooted out of the place!

The third time I had to take an oath was to testify in my case against the management of the Kasturba Medical College, Mangalore, where I used to work. I was put in the witness box, and the bench clerk pointed out a piece of cardboard hanging inside it and told me, “Read from that.” The text was: “I swear in the name of God that I shall speak the truth and nothing but the truth.” It was in both English and Kannada. I said no. He said, “What?” I told him, “No, I can’t swear in the name of God.” He said, “What is your problem? It is not any Hindu, Muslim, or Christian God; it is the universal God.” I said, “I am an atheist, and I cannot swear by the name of any God.” The commotion attracted the attention of the judge, who asked, “What is the matter?” I replied that I am an atheist and shall not swear by the name of any God. He said, “You can solemnly affirm.” I remarked that I was going to do precisely that, but the bench clerk was objecting to it. He gave a withering look to the clerk and ordered, “Let him.” Later on, the bench clerk told me that in his three decades of service, it was the first time he was seeing someone refuse to take an oath in the name of God!

The next occasion for me to bear witness was the trial of a supervisor of an orphanage who was sexually exploiting girls under his care. I was sworn in as a witness, the prosecution lawyer finished his examination, and the defense lawyer started his cross-examination. It ran like this:

D (Defense lawyer): You did not take an oath in the name of God.
I: So what?
D: YOU DID NOT TAKE AN OATH IN THE NAME OF GOD.
I: YES, I DID NOT TAKE AN OATH IN THE NAME OF GOD.
D: I WANT IT TO GO ON RECORD THAT THE WITNESS DID NOT TAKE AN OATH IN THE NAME OF GOD.
I: Are you implying that I am not under oath or something?
D (to the judge): SIR, I WANT IT TO GO ON RECORD THAT THE WITNESS HAS NOT TAKEN AN OATH IN THE NAME OF GOD.
J (Judge): The form of oath is irrelevant; the witness is under oath, that is all.
D: I KNOW THAT, SIR, BUT I WANT IT TO BE ON RECORD THAT THE WITNESS HAS NOT TAKEN AN OATH IN THE NAME OF GOD.
J: Not allowed.
D: I OBJECT.
J: Objection overruled. It shall not go on record. Proceed. If you have any more objections, file an appeal under section… (I don’t remember that section).
D (to me): YOU ARE AN ATHEIST.
I: HOW MANY TIMES SHOULD I TELL YOU THAT? I SOLEMNLY AFFIRMED BECAUSE OF THAT.
J (to D): You can stop asking questions about his religious convictions and go on with your cross-examination.
D: That has a bearing on his testimony.
J: No, it does not. Go on.

The next few times I had to bear witness were some long-pending cases where nothing much happened. Then, once more, there was a case in which I was summoned as a witness, and that was when I was assaulted and stoned when I was demonstrating to people outside my laboratory that the Ganesha idols “drinking milk” was just a phenomenon of physics. Some local thugs had come with a mob to take revenge for some past grudges. The taking of the oath went on without any problems, as the bench clerks had gotten used to my form of taking the oath. The examination by the prosecution went on smoothly. Then came the turn of the defense:

D: You are an atheist.
I: Yes.
D: Do you know there is a Vithoba temple on the road where your business is?
I: Yes.
D: Do you know there is a Venkataramana temple situated about 200 meters from your business?
I: Yes.
D: Do you know there is a Katyayani temple on the road parallel to the street where your business is?
I: I don’t know.
D: Why don’t you know?
I: Because I don’t know.
Judge (to D): Are you conducting a quiz or something about the location of temples? Go on with your next question.

Many times there have been occasions when people are asked to stand up for prayers and all have stood up except a few of us; we have refused to light lamps and so on. The very same people who talk about hurting religious sentiments do not understand that our sentiments, too, get hurt when we are asked to pray to the secular, universal “God.”