Perhaps I am completely off the mark but I like to believe that courts are living, breathing organisms, almost like people with their own personalities, with moods which change from day to day and hour to hour. Courts can be cruel, unforgiving and thoroughly intimidating; terrorizing the ignorant, the new and the naïve. Just like you and me. At the same time Courts can be warm and loving, providing encouragement to the young and hope to the disheartened. Recognizing and cherishing this dichotomy is, or so my over-wired brain likes to believe, an integral part of enjoying litigation.

I think this belief about courts having “personalities” and emotions can be traced back to the time when Boss started handing over all the mediation matters to me. This wasn’t as big a deal as I initially thought; I essentially had to sit in a room, wait for the mediator (who would often be late or not show up at all), tell my client that s/he must be reasonable and not be too greedy and to put an end to the endless litigation. Mediations would normally start in the second half of the day, post-lunch and if there was more than one mediation scheduled then it would eventually take a couple of hours to finish.. Hence I would often leave the court by four or five in the evening, walking past the almost-deserted court rooms and through the main hall which had been buzzing with activity and nervousness a few hours earlier. At that hour, the Court seemed like a languorous old cat, lazily stretching itself in blissful anticipation of a long nap.

I liked the early mornings in the High Court the most. One particularly important case required me to arrive early at the court for nearly a week, collecting the Xeroxes and highlighting the important parts of the case law. In the hour or so before the Bench sat, there used to be a deceitful calm in the entire building. A sleepy, almost lazy, silence if you will. Because the litigants and lawyers had not yet flooded the court building, the air conditioning was still effective and I remember welcoming the cool air as I huffed and puffed into the building, lugging the Xeroxes and wishing to God that the inventor of the black gown had died a premature death.

I really liked those mornings, the quiet and the solitude. A few court officials would lounge in the sofas; the judges would not arrive for some more time and there were more than a few minutes to kill. The court staff would chat amongst themselves, exchanging the previous day’s gossip no doubt. Here and there a few lawyers (juniors mostly) would impatiently wait for the cause lists to be displayed outside the court room. There was a certain serenity in the court, as if the court was sunning itself in the winter sun; content in the silence and fully aware that a hectic day would begin soon.

In twenty minutes or so, the litigants would begin pouring in and then the lawyers and slowly the buzz would build and build until finally the entire building would become a veritable bee hive. Then, there would be no looking back. For the next few hours, there would much nervous chatter as some lawyers would rush from court to court while others would handle bothersome clients. The Court would lose its silence then, lose its patience. An air of urgency would pervade the court, an anxious yet powerful urgency.

Trial courts were, of course, an entirely different ball game. For me, trial courts (at least in Delhi) were a bit like teenagers in the sense that the entire atmosphere was just a whole lot edgier. There was a more intense buzz in and around the courts; a feeling that something completely unpredictable was going to happen just this very second. The pace of the proceedings too was faster, more exhilarating and demanding constant attention and presence of mind. Perhaps it was the sight of criminals, convicts and the innocent being paraded in and out of courts, the extremely tangible smell of fear all around you. Or perhaps it was the fact that this is where it all began. There was a certain arrogance about trial courts which I found extremely attractive, a brashness which can only come with youth. And yet there was a sense of history, a sense that the Courts had seen a million others like you and would continue to do so for the next hundred years as well. I think my favorite trial court was Patiala House for the simple reason that it still looked like an opulent palace, with stairways running up here and there and hidden corners and majestic ceilings.

The Apex Court always seemed to be a rather reserved and patient person; someone who is quite restrained when it comes to expressing emotions. Perhaps this was because I spent far less time here than in the other courts but I always felt that the Supreme Court was a bit step-motherly in her affection towards me. No doubt, it was beautiful and awe-inspiring (at least for the first few weeks) and you could be witness to some of the finest arguments in the country. But still, I could never shake off the feeling that this was a court which would always be slightly restrained and reserved.

And then of course there are the various tribunals and commissions. These can vary widely and hence it is hard to categorize them into one category. For instance, one Debt Recovery Tribunals that I had to appear before was not a very pleasant place to go to. Setting aside the peeling paint, the creaky stairs and the general air of neglect, nothing ever seemed to happen. I remember adjournments being given on the ground that recent rain had flooded the records room of a particular counsel. Some of these tribunals seemed like old and ailing family members, neglected by most and hence carving out a living on their own. This is not to say that all tribunals were the same; it is dangerous to generalize, more so in law. Yet this is the general impression that I had.

The mood of a court also often depended on how far away the vacations were. On the first day after summer vacation, I could almost always observe a sense of geniality, of old friends meeting after a long time. The general air of excitement, now that I think about it, was aided by no small measure by the fact that there was a whole batch of new, utterly clueless yet excited juniors milling about. As you got closer and closer to vacations, the entire atmosphere would change once again.

I will never forget this one matter which was listed on the last day before summer vacations in the Supreme Court. The Bench before it was listed was known to be more than a little patient with hearings stretching on till four and five in the evening. And as I waited patiently for the matter to be called (it eventually never reached the board) I could not help but notice that this was a lot like a school just before summer holidays. There was an impatient atmosphere with everyone desperate to finish their day’s matters and rush away to their vacations; school children just waiting for the final bell to ring. Most Benches had risen before lunch in fact and I was reliably informed that many a senior counsel had booked a Friday afternoon flight out. When the Bench eventually rose and we got out of court, I was stunned to see the entire court empty, reinforcing the image of a school once again.

There are many sides of a court’s personality; the ones listed above are just a few of the positive ones. At times Courts can be deeply unpleasant, humiliating and frightening; just like you and me I suppose. You can discover a new side to them every single day, be surprised or hurt or shocked at your discovery. Just like you and me.