No entry!

IT is usually the newest appointees as 'additional judges' who are given the 'vacation judges' assignment in the Bombay High Court.

The advocates' dress code is not mandatory for members of the Bar during vacation assignments. If occasionally some old-fashioned senior milord got the vacation assignment and came in formal uniform it used to surprise us.

If he insisted on lawyers too being properly attired during vacation appearances there was at best a reluctant compliance.

But the younger milords, especially the direct appointees from the Bar, preferred to remain refreshingly casual in their attire during the vacations.

This is a story about one such milord.

Once, a young and handsome newly elevated appointee on the Bombay High Court was given a vacation assignment during a hot summer. He started coming to his chambers in a T-shirt and jeans and sat in the same dress in the vacation courtroom.

On the last afternoon of his assignment, he decided to take a stroll across the street during lunch recess and enjoy a good meal at a local restaurant he used to frequent as a lawyer.

No one recognised the milord as he walked out past the security through the gate meant for lawyers and litigants. Therefore, it was not surprising that no one would recognise him when he returned after lunch by the same route. But the problem was the security check. They never checked anyone going out. But they were very strict about those attempting to get in.

Thus, our fair and handsome young milord was stopped when he tried to get back to work after lunch.

He was asked if he was a lawyer or a visitor.

"Lawyer," he replied.

"ID card daakhwa," (show your ID card) the policewoman manning the security checkpoint demanded. She had a half-chomped vada pav in her hand.

Now, our milord was in a fix. He was not carrying any ID card. He was a sitting high court judge and the judges entered the court from an entirely different main entrance gate where they were ushered in like royalty by their attendants.

Lawyers' entry points into the high court premises were from the gates on the rear. The judge rummaged through his wallet and found many credit cards and debit cards but no ID card.

There was, of course, his driver's licence. It had his photo and name. Surely that would be enough? But the policewoman would not budge.

"Bar Association kinva Bar Council che card daakhwa," (Show me the Bar Association or Bar Council card) she said.

Milord had kept some matters post-lunch and was eager to reach his chambers as soon as possible. He realised that the policewoman seemed in no hurry and if he continued his pretence of being a lawyer this could take a long time. So he decided to disclose the truth.

"I am a high court judge," he declared solemnly.

The amused policewoman finished her vada pav, stood back and scrutinised this 'hero' from top to bottom. Then she burst out laughing!

"Arrey wah! Atta vakeel hota! Ani lagech judge zaala!" (You were a lawyer just now … and suddenly you have become a judge!) "Mag mee pan police commissioner ahey!" (Then I am also a police commissioner!)

She then summoned the other cops including her superior and informed them that this "hero" first claimed that he was a lawyer but when asked to show ID proof he claimed he was a high court judge! They all agreed that this was certainly very suspicious behaviour.

"Tumhara zadti lena padega," (We will have to frisk you) said the sub-inspector and proceeded to frisk the T-shirt and jeans-clad milord to see if he was carrying any suspicious object or explosive material.

Poor milord did not know what to do. He then thought it would be best to dial his personal assistant and call him to the entry point. But seeing him fumbling with his mobile phone the cops moved swiftly and grabbed it.

They said they first wanted to check his mobile for evidence of involvement of accomplices in this suspicious conduct. Suddenly, milord hit upon an idea. He told them he had a video of his swearing-in ceremony as a high court judge on his mobile phone.

"Dikhao!" said the sub-inspector handing over the mobile back to the milord. The cops were enjoying this!

The milord then found the clip and played it for them. As the video clip progressed, the peering cops who were standing at ease snapped into 'attention' one by one and saluted the milord who had a big grin spread across his face by now.

They apologised profusely. The milord took it in his stride and rushed back to his courtroom in time to wrap up his share of work on his last day as a vacation judge. The milord's attempt to pass off as a lawyer during lunchtime had failed.

But later, the story of his plight became a good 'treat' for us at the bar room lunch tables.