Academy

I am in Uttan. To cover inauguration of Maharashtra Judicial Academy. It's two hours' drive from Mumbai. Konkan still survives here, with greenery, palm trees, smell of salt and drying fish.

On the narrow road that leads to the Academy, corrugated sheets, put up along the road's edge, block the view of one side. I thought it was to hide construction, perhaps road expansion work. But people, who didn't look like construction workers, could be seen through the gaps between sheets, watching the vehicles go by. Someone in our jeep said sheets were concealing the slum. The President was to pass. White powder lined the other edge of the road: bleaching powder, someone said.

Inside the academy building, we take our seats, and remain in the seats for two hours. President is to arrive at 11.40, we are early. Behind us, the first batch of 50, which will start its refresher course today, is seated. They are judges, from the lower courts.

High Court judges walk in. Its amusing, for us High Court reporters, to see the judges sans their gowns. A lady judge, wearing Sari, looks sexy. You don't get to see her figure below the neck in the court.

As 11.40 nears, those who are to be on the dais get up to the dais. Chief Justice of the High Court shares the dais with the PWD minister. The CJ -- looking handsome in bandhgala -- is currently hearing a petition which seeks to chargesheet the minister in a mafia-related case.

President arrives. CJ welcomes her. He is the host, she is (today) his most cherished guest. Though even Chief Justice Of India is present. CJ hands her a big candle, to light the "traditional" lamp. Both are smiling.

The function starts. She delivers her speech. Talks about judiciary's contribution, backlog of cases, and the need to make justice "accessible to weaker sections of society." We don't bother to make notes, copy of the speech is promised by government PRO. I wonder: what does she think when she runs into the CJ? Because the CJ is writing -- or has finished writing-- a judgement concerning her brother. The brother is accused of carrying out a political murder in Jalgaon.

Then comes the vote of thanks. Justice N--, the second most senior judge of the High Court, rises.

He says: Good lawyers don't opt for judge's profession, because there is no money in it. So we get third-rate lawyers as judges. Therefore -- we must have first-rate institutions to train them. Let this academy be one such.

The statement shocks reporters, would it make a copy? Then naval band plays the anthem, and we exit.

After three hours in seats, there are lines in front of urinals. It's full of the trainee judges. All of them are wearing blazers. They are from the lower judiciary, their faces and their accents reveal -- to me -- the small town background; lack of confidence, or ability, or both, to do well as a lawyer.

"We are third rate. After so many years, we are third rate," I hear one saying.

A fellow reporter is behind me as we await turn at the urinal. "Huge backlog, no?" he says. I burst out laughing.