When I see how difficult it is nowadays in the Bombay High Court even to get court cases listed for admission I wonder whose interest this entire system actually serves?
Even to mention and circulate an urgent matter there are several hurdles.
Many milords refuse to allow the advocates-on-record (AORs) or junior counsel to utter even a word explaining urgency and abruptly give dates after months for matters which need relief in a matter of days.
The poor AOR then has two choices.
Make an attempt again with a senior gown known to be among the ‘counsel favourite’ of the milord in question or go and cajole the court associate, also a favourite of the milord. They control the listings.
But both these options cost a lot of money.
Even after getting an early date, it is the disposal speed of the milord which will determine whether a matter ‘reaches’ for admission or not.
Thus, the position of your matter in the cause list is of utmost importance.
The higher you need it placed, the more effort your client has to make for the placement.
After doing all this and being out of pocket by a huge amount, milord may simply adjourn the case … unless a senior is appearing.
The fate may be the same except that in case of a designated senior, the matter is adjourned after a few more minutes of hearing so that fees for an ‘effective appearance’ can be marked.
Like snakes and ladders, the game of placement has to be repeated on every date.
Being a court associate in the Bombay High Court is so lucrative nowadays that there are more than 1,000 applicants even if only 10 vacancies are advertised.
Contrast this with the eighties when we could mention urgent matters even with a bare draft of our application or petition in hand and get ad-interim Orders in deserving cases only by undertaking to put everything in order in a day or two.
I recall a plaintiff’s case from the city civil court which was narrated to me by the plaintiff’s advocate himself.
Once, a vegetable stall holder near a footpath was threatened with imminent demolition by the municipal corporation and came running to this lawyer.
The courts had already risen for the day, and the demolition squad was likely to come the next morning.
Apparently, earlier communications had either not been sent or had not reached the vendor, who had been doing business at the place for more than 30 years.
Therefore, the lawyer took steps to visit the assigned off-duty judge at his residence that evening.
The judge was one A.A. Shaikh. He was a contemporary of Judge B. Lentin in the city civil court, who later distinguished himself when he was elevated to the Bombay High Court.
Judge Shaikh, however, died in harness and was deeply mourned by colleagues and Bar members alike.
This anecdote gives us an idea why he was so popular.
When the lawyer, accompanied by the holiday court associate with a bag full of court papers and official rubber stamps, reached Judge Shaikh’s quarters, they discovered that the learned judge, who was a bachelor and lived alone in his quarters, had gone for his evening walk.
The helpful watchman on duty at the gate of the colony told them that sahab usually goes to the municipal market to pick up some sabzi on the way home as his cook comes in at 7 p.m.
Hearing this, the duo rushed to the municipal market which was just half a kilometre away.
There they found his honour, animatedly bargaining with a vegetable vendor about the price of some tomatoes and onions.
When they requested him to hurry home so that he could hear the matter, he smiled and said: “Argue it right now, Mr. Counsel.”
After hearing the facts for five minutes he said: “I will grant you an ex parte injunction right now and keep this case in court after 72 hours. You serve the other side and come.”
Then, turning to the associate he said:
“Now give me a blank Order sheet.”
The court associate told the judge that he had left his bag with the watchman as they did not expect that his honour would hear the matter right away.
The judge smiled and said: “Arey, koi bhi parchi dhoondo.”
The lawyer and the associate looked around on the littered floor of the municipal market for a piece of blank paper but could only find a used bus ticket.
His honour said: “Ye bhi chal jaayega” and proceeded to scribble “Ad-int in terms of prayer (c)” and signed it.
Then he handed that bus ticket to the associate and told him to go and type the Order immediately and issue a stamped copy to the lawyer.
He also advised the lawyer to go and give a copy to whoever was available in the ward office of the corporation and another one to his client to show to the demolition squad should they turn up in the morning.
As the two hurried back to collect the bag from the watchman and rush and do everything the learned judge had ordered, the judge turned back to his tomatoes and onions.
All this was over in just 15 minutes.
What is important is that thanks to the judge’s commitment to render justice, the poor vendor’s stall was saved from demolition and his right to livelihood protected.
The matter was heard in court after 72 hours and the case proceeded as per normal course thereafter.
But the urgency was understood and ‘justice’ was done.
I cannot imagine anything like this happening now.
The registry will refuse even to number a case if the margin on the page is less, size of paper is wrong, font size is not correct and so on.
And milords will issue fatwas not to place any matters before them unless all office objections are removed and it gets a final number to stand in the queue.
This mindset must change.
I remember attending a lecture by the late Chief Justice J. S.Verma at a seminar in Mumbai.
Some of the things he said made such a lasting impression on me that I still remember them vividly.
He had said ‘law’ and ‘justice’ are two different things.
A judge’s job is not just to re-state the law.
Even a computer can do that.
A judge’s job is to use the law in a quest for justice.
Otherwise why call a judge ‘Justice So-and-so’?
Why not ‘Mr. Law’?
He had also emphasised that to hold the scales even between unequals is to perpetuate inequality.
A judge must first balance the two sides by weighing in for the underdogs.
Else there is no point in calling a judge ‘Justice’.
It is true that law and justice are two different things.
I remember the perceptive comment of a highly respected senior advocate of the Bombay High Court one day as we were both waiting for our matters before a division Bench headed by a judge who enjoyed a reputation as a ‘good judge’ mainly because his disposal rate was good.
I mentioned to the senior advocate that the Bar believed that this senior milord was currently one of our ‘best judges’.
The senior snapped back: “No way! He is not. He cannot be called a judge.”
“He is a mere adjudicator.”
Well, that adjudicator now adjudicates from apex heights … and the Bar over there considers him to be a ‘good judge’.
Our respected senior however feels no need to change his view.
The eternal quest for ‘justice’ continues.
