The Judiciary, …in My Novel.

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[ Hello, Folks, this is part of a chapter in my good old Novel that is getting ready. Read it here for Free. 🙂 ]

Old Mr. Ilango was Very angry. Improvements, of sorts, were definitely happening over the Indian scene, like the politicians being questioned, the question of the safety of children and women raised up and discussed at length, followed by the careless of hospitals, their crass hunger for money and their negligence, etc, which then turned to questioning the high fees elicited by lawyers.

The question of the good old, or rather, the Nasty cess pool of the judiciary is never raised. Everybody is afraid, because some fool, or some fools had made the law, perhaps, that the judiciary cannot be questioned.

“Not just Rapes, but Gang-rapes, and bestiality in the form of inserting objects, like stones into the private parts of the Adivasi lady leader Soni Sori, heated iron rods into that of the girl gang raped in Delhi, a lathi, which has a diameter of about one and a half inches into that of a six year old child, take place on a regular basis now.

“TV shows like the Mirror Now and NDTV take up such issues and make them a point of discussion, and they demand that action be taken against the culprits, at the same time decrying the fact that Only about 3% convictions take place in these cases.

“They berate the politicians and the police, who Are guilty, of course.

“But do they Forget the fact, or do they Overlook it, or are they Afraid to raise the issue that it is the Judiciary alone that takes the final step in these affairs?” Mr. Ilango pauses, perhaps for breath.

Mohan came in. “You are right, Grandpa. I remember You saying at the time of the passing away of that leader in Mumbai, when the Whole city was brought to a standstill. One lone little Brave heart, a young woman, had dared question over the internet just Why this shut down should happen for one lone man.

“The police had come and made a Mid-night arrest of that Poor woman, and she was sent to jail for a month, if I remember things correctly.”

“Didn’t You tell me, Anand, that You had written on Facebook and Twitter about the Judiciary, or in that case the Magistrate is the person or the body who metes out punishment? That that woman of Mumbai fame was sent to jail Not by the police but by the magistrate?” asked Yoha.

“You are right, my Dear,” admitted he. “The magistrate could – easily, – and should have told the arresting police that there was Nothing whatsoever wrong in her question, chided them, and should have sent her away home Free. Instead of that the magistrate was merely the Willing tool of the politicians. And not only he, Most of those in the adjudicating business are that, – tools of the politicos. Can Anybody believe that they would be doing all this without receiving some sort of Compensation?” finished Anand.

“So if all these Criminals are roaming around Free, laughing their heads off at Society, the members of the judiciary are to Blame,” wound up Yoha.

There was a slight pause, as always happened when important points were made.

“Arvind Kejriwal, the chief minister of Delhi, and the founder of the Aam Aadmi Party, his supporters, and perhaps Anna Hazare to a certain extent, had demanded, among other things, that even the judiciary is accountable to the Citizens,” Mr. Ilango was saying.

They wondered at the sharpness of mind and the acumen of his, even at the age of eighty seven.

He sent one of the young men to go and fetch his precious box of newspaper clippings, and when that came, within no time and unerringly found what he wanted.

It was dated 23 September 2014, and the clipping said that till date, as per the data of Law & Justice Ministry, there were about 3 Crore (30 Million!) cases pending in Indian Courts. Out of which 44 lakh (nearly Four and a half Million) cases in High courts & 63,000 cases in the were sleeping in the Supreme court.

“There are even Sixty year old cases, and hundreds in the twenty year range. Worse, perhaps thousands of People are in jail, without their cases having been examined.

“These fellows get paid in lakhs, which means something like ten thousand rupees a day; they do not declare their assets or their income – and one ex cji, meaning the chief judges of India, had gone to the extent of saying that no self respecting judge would declare his income!

“It is said that the courts work for only six months a year. It would be puerile, ridiculous and contemptible if they were to say that they work longer.

“One argument was raised that they work long hours. Typical Arrogance. How long and how hard do they think the Average man works? A man who makes Tea in stalls might even be getting Rs. 15,000 a month; but for that he stands, stands, – not getting a moment to sit, for 12 straight hours! There are many colleges in the country which pay their ‘professors’ one third of what they judges get, without a single day off!”

“What gets my goat is that these fallible, falling, erring, corruptible and corrupt to a large degree, judges get called as ‘justices.’ They should be addressed as judges, and nothing more than, never more than that; Never, never, never ever as justices, the goats,” said Yoha’s mother.

Old Mr. Ilango looked at her with appreciation.

“Till the Country, and the World, understand and Realize that the Citizen is Supreme, that it is the Citizen who pays them, pays for their very food, not to say the luxuries, that they, the judges and each and member of the administration, is a Servant of the Citizen, and Demand that judges too are Accountable to the People, nothing good will happen,” said he.

The discussion continued about judges another day. “When there is Such a large backlog of cases in courts, just Why does not the administration appoint More judges to deal with them and end them?” asked Reena, another of Yoha’s sisters.

“What a wonderful question,” satired Vijendra. “Perhaps the administration concedes and admits that it does not have enough men of Calibre to fill those posts.”

“Shall we say Brains, instead of Calibre?” quipped one of the boys.

“You certainly may, Young Sir,” rejoined Vijendra. “And You would not be far from the Truth!”

“Quit joking, You Young fellows,” said Mr. Ilango. Even seventy year old Vijendra was ‘young fellow’ for him, for he was eighty seven, after all. “Perhaps the president does not find enough fellows with enough Honesty for those posts!”

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