If some rare trial judges
Are independent and bold
Milords don’t appreciate them
‘Don’t act too smart’ they’re told!
The system dulls their initiative
So they resign to their fate
And become like the rest
Surviving from date to date.
In any mediocre dispensation
Status quo is considered fine
Personnel are left to move freely
But can never cross the line!
So they all prefer to play safe
Fearing wrath of Big Brother
‘If justice needs to be done,
Let it be done by some other!’
Complainants then climb
To the next higher floor
Engaging eager black coats
To knock on ‘justice’s door’.
But no one dares to decide
Even at that high level
It’s easier to toe the line
Than to wield the gavel!
Gradually cumulative bundles
With tales of injustice and grief
Land at the ornate doorstep
Of suave and learned Big Chief
He expresses shock and disbelief
Asks: ‘Why does the system fail?
Why the first court that heard this
Couldn’t grant regular bail?’
‘We are a Constitutional Court
Having so much on our plates
And you guys are behaving
As if we are ordinary magistrates!’
The subordinate Bar and Bench
Always facing wrath and brunt
Wish: ‘May he stop these lectures,
And lead us all from the front!’
