The world we live in tends to operate on a binary basis – pairs like black/white or hot/cold, stand as guideposts to meaning. Religion and science have occupied a binary central to human civilisation since its dawn. While the former is largely considered fictive in contrast with the latter, many notable figures throughout history have navigated this opposition, to believe in religion and science as complementary to each other. Author and playwright Nilanjan P Choudhury’s second play, The Trial of Abdus Salam, is an imagined courtroom drama on the titular figure, the first Muslim Nobel Laureate in science – a man condemned by orthodoxy within the same religion to which he had credited his scientific bent.
As an author, Choudhury’s books are concerned predominantly with myth and history, often using satire as a narrative vehicle. On the other hand, his two plays to date – The Square Root of a Sonnet and The Trial of Abdus Salam – focus on men of science. Reflecting on it, Choudhury says, “My continuing interest in mythology is based on memories of my grandmother reading aloud the Mahabharata, the Ramayana, Amar Chitra Katha comics and so on. Parallelly, I was drawn towards the power and precision of physics in my teenage years which led me to pursue a Master’s degree in the subject. My first play seemed to have touched a chord with a wide variety of audiences, which encouraged me to write my second play, also on science.”
Salam’s ostracisation from the same community he spent his life trying to fit into, lies at the core of the tragic pathos of the play; his whole life remained a ‘trial’, which did not relent even after his death. As Choudhury explains, “Abdus Salam was an Ahmadiyya, a modern Islamic sect. In September 1974, the Pakistan National Assembly passed a Constitutional amendment declaring the Ahmadiyyas to be non-Muslim because of their belief in false prophets. This act deeply wounded Salam who considered himself to be a devout Muslim. His passport was stamped with the word ‘non-Muslim’ and he was accused of selling nuclear secrets to India. His tombstone had initially read ‘Abdus Salam, the First Muslim Nobel Laureate in Physics’. But it was vandalised soon after his death and the word ‘Muslim’ was erased from his tombstone.”
This pathos is only underscored by how integral faith was to Salam, and how much of his life he spent on incorporating it in his scientific pursuit. As Choudhury notes, “For Salam, there was no conflict between his religion and his science. His vision of Islam was deeply rooted in rationality and not blind faith or literal interpretations of traditional texts.” With or without his Ahmadiyya identity, orthodox circles would not have taken kindly to such an interpretation, especially by someone who stood privy to global exposure. Choudhury continues, “He advocated that the Quran has an overriding message of love and a fundamental unity. This belief led to his seminal contributions towards the unification of the electromagnetic and weak nuclear forces and his creation of the International Centre of Theoretical Physics, Trieste, which he envisioned as a home for scientists across the world, irrespective of nationality and religion.”
Portraying the Pathos
Krishna Hebbale, who plays the titular role, is all praise for Choudhury’s craft, saying, “It was never limited to an actor being directed by a director. There were also a lot of master classes happening on science, of which he is an expert.” Sharing about the experience of portraying Abdus Salam, Hebbale mentions the atypical nature of the production, “You do a Shakespearean play or a Kalidasa play. But very few times in life as an actor where we get an opportunity to portray the role of a scientist. That was a factor during the preparation for the role,” he reveals.
(The play will be staged on April 18, at Ranga Shankara, JP Nagar at 3.30pm and 7.30pm)