If some rare trial judgesAre independent and boldMilords don't appreciate them'Don't act too smart' they're told!.The system dulls their initiativeSo they resign to their fateAnd become like the restSurviving from date to date..In any mediocre dispensationStatus quo is considered finePersonnel are left to move freelyBut can never cross the line!.So they all prefer to play safeFearing wrath of Big Brother'If justice needs to be done,Let it be done by some other!'.Complainants then climbTo the next higher floorEngaging eager black coatsTo knock on 'justice's door'..But no one dares to decideEven at that high levelIt's easier to toe the lineThan to wield the gavel!.Gradually cumulative bundlesWith tales of injustice and griefLand at the ornate doorstepOf suave and learned Big Chief.He expresses shock and disbeliefAsks: 'Why does the system fail?Why the first court that heard thisCouldn't grant regular bail?'.'We are a Constitutional CourtHaving so much on our platesAnd you guys are behavingAs if we are ordinary magistrates!'.The subordinate Bar and BenchAlways facing wrath and bruntWish: 'May he stop these lectures,And lead us all from the front!'
