Chief Justice of India Dr. Justice DY Chandrachud is retiring, and I already feel a void. This feeling is comparable to the void felt by the fanbase of Rafael Nadal in 2024 or MS Dhoni in 2020. You continue to love the sport, but always feel nostalgic about your favourite person on the field. The feeling is far more intense if you fell in love with the game as a teenager and now you remember the first blush.
The first blush
The year is 2015. Sitting in our small medical store in my village right after school hours, I would engross myself in reading Hindi dailies to exhaustion. The Uttar Pradesh government's policy for regularising Shiksha Mitras had come before the Supreme Court. The top court directed the Allahabad High Court to decide the matter. Chandrachud J, then Chief Justice of the Allahabad High Court, constituted a bench and decided against the policy. Speaking for the Court, Chief skillfully carved the issues and justly decided the fate of 1.72 lakh individuals. In 2017, a division bench of the Supreme Court dismissed the appeal against the Chief’s 2015 judgment.
In my recent visit to my village, I witnessed a few teachers regale how that 2015 judgment led to a consistent approach amongst judiciary and executive in framing employment policies in later years. This singular event also demonstrates how students and stakeholders perceive ‘justice’ differently. An academic can only interpret, whereas a stakeholder is enthralled.
Gradually, the calendar turned its pages to 2018, and I accidentally found myself in law school. The summer of 2018 was incredible for any law student-academic, and especially for us first-year kids. Chief’s dissent in the Aadhaar case and a series of other verdicts marked a shift. Part C of Chief's judgment in Navtej Johar had the heading “The Ashes of the Gay”. I soon discovered that this was a line from Leonard Cohen’s celebrated 1992 revolution song “Democracy”. The mention in Johar, therefore, introduced me to another stream of music flowing parallel to the verses of Bob Dylan. Since then, Cohen has often played on my device.
The recent judgment in the SC/ST sub-categorisation case completed a full circle; the Chief had now covered every nuance of Part III of the Indian Constitution. The more I became interested in US Constitutionalism and US Supreme Court judgments, the more I realised that the Chief brought his grasp of comparative constitutionalism in structure and substance. One issue in a judgment was distributed into many sub-issues. You start peeling through the layers of the reasoning, and you keep discovering gems. You might stop at a layer and satiate your cause, or might go further and satiate your curiosity; the choice was yours.
Like every law student, I was pulled towards filling out that internship Google form. I must note that the Chief’s office has offered more internships to non-NLU students, minorities and disadvantaged groups than any other judicial office. Perhaps due to a transparent and inclusive process of scrutiny. Amid all these incredible phenomena happening at Tughlaq Road and later at Krishna Menon Marg, my internship application had been accepted.
Fanboy moments
We were told not to err so much in making case briefs as to end up irking the Chief Justice of India. The advice seemed absurd – an intern’s error shall not affect the work of the CJI. We did not care so much about the nuances. Instead, my co-interns and I wondered about that rare occasion when we could introduce ourselves and get the signature photograph that generates impressions like wildfire on LinkedIn feeds. We were told that Chief, compared to his earlier years at the Supreme Court, seldom visits his residential office, and we might not meet him.
Still, it happened! One bright sunny day, the Chief arrived and waved a cheerful "Hi". Before he got too busy with pending work, we had to make a move. I mustered all my courage only to whisper, "Excuse Me, Sir". The murmur went unnoticed. I attempted again, this time with success. I introduced myself; Chief exclaimed, “Oh, so you’re Ravi! I saw your initials on a few briefs the day before!” That was it, the moment. I discussed a few of the themes I was working on and received a favourable response. I requested the photograph and was obliged; the Chief even suggested a better background for our photo. That was Chief; the advice to be careful about briefs felt genuine.
After a few days, we interns were deeply lost in the scenic lawn at the CJI’s residence. The clerks had been enough kind to offer their badminton racquets, and we had seized the moment. Chief came to the office that day and saw us before we could notice. Donning a shiny porpoise grey suit, Chief was smiling, waving to us interns from the far block of the residence.
Like everything good, my internship was to end soon. I planned to pen a few thoughts about my experience as an intern to Chief, and after hours of brainstorming, I figured out a workable mode of delivery. The letter was signed and sealed, but I could never know if it was delivered.
With time, I started as an advocate, fortunate to have multiple opportunities standing beside one of two grand podiums in Courtroom 1. On one occasion, when the senior had not turned up, I was asked to request a passover. The issue in this particular SLP was taken up by another SLP two days back and dismissed after a lengthy argument. Therefore, the matter of day had its fate sealed. The court master called out the matter. I approached the podium, and the other side opened - “My Lords, an appeal was dismissed a few days back”. Chief nodded, “Yes, it was two days back…”. I said, “My Lords, I request for a passover; a senior is appearing, and we hope to convince..”. We did not hope; the judges had conferred at length before dismissing that matter. Nevertheless, I had made a full-hearted attempt. The opposite side reverted, “My Lords, no merit in appeal”. Chief paused briefly to see a boy making his template passover appearance. I heard, “Anyway, we will pass it over”.
25 years a judge
2024 was the 25th year of Chief’s judicial career. Writing the foreword for the freshly released book ‘The Fearless Judge: The Life and Times of Justice AM Ahmadi’, Chief is reminded of an arbitration in July 1999 in which he appeared before a stellar panel of arbitrators – Justices Tulzapurkar, Kania and Ahmadi. The arbitration was to conclude, but the Chief's dilemma about a significant decision lingered. Chief recalls mentioning the dilemma to Justice Ahmadi. In Chief’s words: “On the last day in Ottawa, I sought his advice on a personal conundrum I was facing, equally if not more compelling than the arbitration himself…As I pitched to him the question of taking judgeship, Justice Ahmadi said, with his distinct clarity, that it was ‘absolutely worth it!’” Tracing back the journey of perhaps the longest-serving judge in the Indian higher judiciary, we say yes, it has been absolutely worth it.
When we look back at the career of Justice Chandrachud, first as a judge and then as CJI, we witness a metamorphosis. The judicial arena could not remain stuck with Francis Bacon’s ‘Of Judicature’ (1612), and the justice machinery must evolve alongside every field of human enterprise. Chief always showed the way. Tracing his transformative journey, we shall remember the e-court projects across the country, developments in transcription, and live telecast of proceedings. We shall remember the success of the Lok Adalat organised this monsoon, with advocates sharing a bench with judges, and many symbolic initiatives. We shall also remember how the Chief established a nationwide narrative of changing the perception about the district judiciary – that it is not a ‘lower judiciary’ -in many conferences this year.
While mentioning the contributions of the 34 judges, the Chief would never forget the 2000-person workforce of the Supreme Court Registry. While writing opinions for the litigants on weekdays, Chief relentlessly sparked debates on serious issues in his weekend speeches. Chief held Justice Brandeis’ famous dictum close to his heart: “Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants.” Chief often succeeded in bringing the eulogised quote to life. Even when he could not, he had made his attempt.
Chief seldom missed the opportunity to give another judicial opinion when put to task. A few days back, while dismissing the challenge to the constitutional validity of Section 6A of the Citizenship Act, 1955, the Chief narrated how Justice Surya Kant was already writing the majority judgment before the Chief received a dissenting opinion by Justice Pardiwala:
“In the meantime, I received the judgment from my brother Justice Pardiwala in a dissent, so then I thought that was an opportunity for me to not deal with the dissent but…sort of again...perhaps…place a few thoughts”. Prolific and industrious!
Epilogue
The opening verse in the majority judgment in Cox and Kings, on the applicability of the group of companies doctrine in Indian arbitration, penned by Chief last year reads:
“…Despite the varied criticism, the legacy of Ulysses endures particularly because its experimental narrative technique challenged the conventional literary style. Similar is the case of the group of companies doctrine – a modern theory which challenges the conventional notions of arbitration law. It is celebrated by some, reviled by many others. Yet, its legacy continues”.
These lines are captivating. They speak of contests against conventionality and two lobbies - the admirers and the detractors. The last line of the very first paragraph hits you hard – “It is celebrated by some, reviled by many others. Yet, its legacy continues”! This line beautifully sums up Chief’s career.
Earlier in this article, I mentioned a letter I wrote to the Chief on the evening of my internship. I also mention how I did not hope for an acknowledgement. To my surprise, one afternoon, I had been proven wrong. “Dear Sir, find enclosed herewith an acknowledgement letter”, the subject of the email read. Chief had reverted. The letter ended with “This brings you my best wishes…..Yours Sincerely…Dhananjaya Chandrachud”. Chief had written back to his former intern beyond the template-fashioned response. I was disarmed, moved and excited. The world seemed to have expanded; I had never felt so small.
As Chief retires in all his vigour and vitality, I am prompted to reflect on how I would perceive Chief’s career as a judge. Without giving it a second thought, I would reproduce what Richard Posner conceived for Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr and would naively say:
“He wasn’t perfect; he was only great."
In conveying my good wishes to Chief, we can perhaps not find better lines than those of Bob Dylan, an artist Chief and I both admire:
May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of change shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
And may you stay forever young.
Ravi Shankar Pandey formerly interned with Chief Justice of India DY Chandrachud.
The above narration is a purely personal account.