A Conversation with Justice
(A satire on state of justice in India)
Once I met Justice, wandering in Court Corridors. His face was red with perspiration. Apparently he was running up and down, left and right in the corridors of courts and power but unable to find his way to Mr. Common. I offered him a seat and held him my bottle of water. He gulped it down and said, “They are everywhere and do not let me reach anywhere.”
His talk was not making any sense so I chose not to interrupt and waited. “She is so brutal, she would do anything to destroy me,” he said and took another sip.
“She?” I asked. “Do you mean your wife?”
“Yes, Law has left me long ago. We are estranged. My daughter Procedure is with her. Both of them are always busy. They hoodwink my father Judge and whisper in his ear things that keep me here in corridors. They have even named these court corridors after me as ‘Corridors of Justice‘. Perhaps they know I am wandering here in corridors. But I can’t even get inside a courtroom. I don’t know what to do.”
“But you did meet Donald Trump. He was convicted all right,” I asked.
“No, that was Travesty,” he said.
“Who is Travesty?” I asked.
Justice shook his head and said, “It should not have happened. But it did. You see, when Law and Procedure yelled at me and threatened to leave me, Judge, my own father threw me out of the house. My own father preferred her daughter in law over me. I had nowhere to go. In that vulnerable moment I met a beautiful woman. Very kind and gentle. She’s enormously rich too. So she took me with her. And that is how my other daughter Travesty was born.”
Justice was looking the other way. Justice seemed ashamed of himself, regretting that courtship with the mother of Travesty.
“What is the name of that woman? The mother of Travesty?” I asked.
“She has many names. She has so many dresses. She has a fleet of vehicles. She has a Palace to live in. And she always insists that I must not waste my time here in court corridors. I am sure she would be coming in search of me, any time now. She endears me so much that she would not let go of me. I call her Roopi. After her beauty. You know, she is so majestic. Once she waves her hand to anybody here, that person will follow her anywhere. She has everything.”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “And does Roopi ever grow tired of this endless dance?”
Justice smiled, slow and crooked. “Tired? No. She is like the seasons, always returning, always insisting we flow one way or another. She is patient where I am desperate. She learned long ago that the corridors are endless and so am I. But she knows how to turn waiting into power.”
He looked down a hallway, where distant echoes and footsteps tangled like restless spirits. Crores of people, moving around in desperation searching for Justice, and here he was sitting with me, invisible to others.
“But surely your father Judge wants to help those crores of people?” I asked.
“Poor father,” Justice sighed. “He sits in his chair, overwhelmed. Every day he looks at files stacked to the ceiling. Some cases are older than the children who will inherit them. He wants to work faster, but he has to follow the Law. That is mandatory. And then there is Procedure to keep pace with. Judge is so fond of Procedure. She is the granddaughter, after all.” Justice looked straight at me and asked, “You know what Procedure has done now?”
“What has she done now?” I asked back.
“Procedure has a boyfriend. His name is Xerox. He runs a photocopy shop here in court. Judge said ‘Let’s go digital’ and ordered that all filing be online. Xerox’s business would have been dead. So Procedure asked the Judge: ‘Please, please. Let me have at least one print. I like the smell of paper. What would a courtroom be without paper?’ And Judge relented.”
“So Xerox’s business is in bad shape now?” I asked.
“Look, I see you, I talk to you and we are having a frank discussion. You are so candid with me about your family and followers but why can’t there be millions and millions of litigants who can find you?” I asked.
“My picture is in every courtroom. They are happy with it. They don’t have room for me. It is all taken by Law and Procedure. Judge has disowned me. I tried to go to another room—it has a fancy sounding name… rabi… rabi something,” Justice stammered.
“Arbitration?” I interjected and completed his sentence.
“Yes. That’s the name. I was told that there would be plenty of room for me in there. But…” Justice left his sentence incomplete.
“But what?” I asked.
“There is a strange looking guy who comes in a fancy car with a secretary and a peon. He wears suit and tie in screeching summer heat. He sits at the end of the table. Other lawyers sit opposite to him. His clerk cum secretary keeps rushing papers from here to there. Peon keeps serving water and tea and sometimes samosa or even lunch. And the peon tells me to sit outside. I felt so humiliated. So I left. When I told Roopi about the humiliation, she hugged me and told me not to worry. She will tell them to manage with my picture. I need not go there. So here I am.” Justice looked down as he finished his sentence.
But you did not answer me. Why these people cant meet you? I asked again.
“And there was another very big room.” Justice continued as if he did not hear me. “This big room had a label of Maddi something. There are so many people in staff and so many files. They are so busy. Such hardworking people. Young girls and boys carrying the files from here to there. And then one girl from the staff told me I am needed in one of the rooms as everybody was ready to welcome me. I felt so happy. Just as I was about to enter I found something strange.” He stopped as if in some shock.
“That is Mediator not Negotiator,” I tried to correct him.
“Oh yes. That was the name.” Justice acknowledged.
“What happened? What did you see there?” I asked Justice while placing my hand on his knee to comfort him. He was visibly shaken.
“You see, the girl had told me that I would be welcome. Inside the room there was a person with the name of Negotiator something. Very funny name but his parents must be from a fish market to name him that. He was sitting quietly and this one litigant with big mustaches was explaining to the other litigant, a young woman who happened to be his sister. It was some dispute about ancestral property.” Justice stopped again.
“So what is strange in that?” I asked.
“That fearsome looking man was telling his sister in almost threatening tone. I will drag you into litigation for so long, you will never see the face of Justice. you will die in these court corridors.” Justice was about to sob but added “And here I was at the door. That fearsome looking man stood up. Negotiator did nothing. I felt so afraid that this man may not start to beat up that woman. I took an about turn and almost ran from there.” Justice took a sigh and sat still.
By this time I felt frustrated. I had asked this man twice about his invisibility. So many people passed by saying hello to me and no one noticed a man sitting next to me. I decided to ask again.
“Will you please stop these sob stories and answer me once, why are you so elusive?”
“Look, he said by looking straight into my eyes this time, you are an author of jurisprudence, you know my face. You know how I dress. You know who I am married to. You know everything about me. These people do not know me. Judge has not seen me for so long that he has forgotten my face. To meet someone you must be able to recognize his face. Nobody saw me. Nobody knows me. Nobody meets me.” said Justice
I could see the disappointment in the eyes of Justice. He suddenly looked old and frail. But his voice had clarity and he was unshaken. I did not know what to say. Justice said what every lawyer knows but does not tell his clients. Because some unsaid things are the business secrets. Lawyers want justice in the costume of their choice and this stubborn old man will not budge for that.
And there went a smart, beautiful looking woman in fancy attire. People were falling over each other to say hello to Travesty. I looked at Justice and asked, “Would you not say hello to your daughter?”
Justice just stared as Travesty moved through the crowd like a celebrity. People were taking selfies with her, asking for autographs. Travesty smiled and waved, her jewelry glinting as she stepped into the basking sun on the road. Soon a gleaming Black convertible Swift arrived. It was sleek, eye-catching and custom designed by DC. rolling over Big Alloy Wheels The license plate read “TOOFAN.”
Travesty slipped into the backseat without looking back at anyone. As the car pulled away quickly, Justice whispered, “Travesty is so efficient. Gets things done so fast. People love her for that.” He paused, watching the Swift disappear around the corner. “They say Travesty delivered a perfect shot in Telangana recently. Everyone was so happy with her work.”
Justice looked down at his worn sandals, then back at the empty corridor. “I could never work that fast.”