If you thought the British packed up and left in 1947, you may want to peep into our courts. The robed majesties still carry on with the British legacy. Six-week summer vacations, Dussehra recesses, Christmas breaks – all neatly planned while five crore (50 million) cases gather cobwebs and litigants gather wrinkles.
‘Justice delayed is justice denied’? Our judiciary has improvised it to ‘justice adjourned is justice enjoyed’ – at least by those who get to switch off their phones for a month and a half.
We are told these vacations are for ‘writing judgments.’ How noble! So while citizens stew in disputes that drag on for decades, the learned lords are apparently somewhere between Goa and Mussoorie, perfecting footnotes and polishing prose.
If true, it must be the world’s longest editing process. Even Tolstoy, who churned out War and Peace without a mid-career vacation, would have raised an eyebrow.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, a civil dispute over land or tenancy may outlive three generations. Bail hearings and adjournments stretch for years, and undertrials spend more time in jail than their eventual sentence demands. But, never mind – the courts must rejuvenate.
Goodbye to ‘My Lord’
The Modi government has shown some appetite for tidying up colonial baggage – repealing four redundant laws, for instance. But the real clean-up awaits inside the courtroom.
Lawyers still bend and rasp with ‘My Lord’ and ‘Your Lordship’, though the Bar Council of India long ago decreed that ‘Sir’ or ‘Your Honour’ would do. I would stop at a plain ‘Sir’. Even the Supreme Court has clarified that colonial salutations are unnecessary. Yet the echo of empire lingers in the courtroom every single day.
Reform is not merely about new legislation. It is about unlearning habits that make justice feel like a durbar audience. As long as lawyers and litigants must genuflect with Victorian phrases, the system remains a relic, not a republic.
The judiciary’s calendar, too, deserves a respectful cremation. India does not run on a plantation timetable anymore. A country aspiring to be developed by 2047 cannot afford courts that work like sleepy colonial clubs. End the ritual vacations, spread the work, and let citizens believe that justice is a living institution, not a museum.
From robes to rhetoric
There is another troubling drift. Some judges have lately discovered a flair for rhetoric – especially the kind involving uncharitable remarks about Hindus and Hindu Gods. Judges were appointed to interpret the Constitution, not to audition as stand-up critics of tradition.
The role of the judiciary is to resolve disputes, not to create new controversies. When judges stray into sermonising about faith and culture, they dilute their authority in the very arena where it matters most – the law.
The case for reform
‘The judiciary is a public service like any other part of the state. Do you shut down the police department or hospitals for months because officers want summer vacation?’ asked Sanjeev Sanyal, a member of the Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council.
Predictably, many in black coats bristled at the charge. But ordinary citizens nodded grimly. Investors worry about contracts, families about property disputes, the poor about access to bail, and everyone about ‘tareekh pe tareekh’. Judicial independence is vital, but independence cannot be confused with indulgence.
The data speaks bluntly. At current disposal rates, clearing pending cases would take years, even if no new disputes were filed tomorrow. India’s global ranking in contract enforcement – 163rd out of 190 countries – is nothing short of an embarrassment. Infrastructure projects, commercial contracts, and even family matters are trapped in legal limbo.
If the government is serious about modernising India, it cannot stop at cleaning up statutes. It must also nudge the judiciary into the 21st century. That means shorter and staggered vacations, efficient case management, adoption of technology, and an end to the feudal culture of address. Only by bidding goodbye to the pomp of ‘My Lords’ and the leisure of colonial calendars will courts prevent the avalanche of cases from growing year after year.
Otherwise, the final verdict will not be found in law reports but in history books: a judiciary that mistook delay for dignity, ritual for justice, and vacations for work – while the police and hospitals kept doing their job without a summer siesta.
