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| Court of Justice |
In those days I was a novice
among the crowd of lawyers. My colleagues, the men with a hidden smile and
greying hair, and the women with a hidden smile and dyed hair were yet a
decipherable lot for me. And as they all remained wrapped in black outfits, I
was unable to identify them as either friends or foes. My heart was sinking on
thinking that I was to be opponents to all those ladies and gentlemen in
blacks.
My well-furnished office and the books, everything purchased from my hard
savings, were yet to see the face of the first client. At the end of the first
week, I had one. He must have been sent by one of my friends.
He was a man of twenty-five, and looked like a young man in despair would
look: staring at everything, eyes unblinking, and the perspiration irregular.
Before he settled in a chair, before I asked him anything about his legal
purpose, he spoke hurriedly, “Sir, I want a divorce from my wife. Can you help
me?”
At the moment I felt as if I am a grocery trader and the ‘Divorce’ was on
my selling list.
After gulping a full glass of water he belched his story. It was short and
partly unbelievable. He said he really did not know why he was living with his
wife. A usual husband and wife tussle.
From his talks, I could gather that the guy had a wrong upbringing. His
parents were responsible for his line of thinking, perhaps. Being the only issue of his parents when he demanded a bicycle, his parents gave him; when he
demanded a bike, the parents gave him; when he demanded a wife, the parents gave
him. Now he demanded a divorce. He had no experience of hearing ‘no’.
The sum total of his demanding divorce was not very difficult to
understand. As per his version of the story his marriage was travelling through hell. But the simple issue was that his wife was serving in a private
establishment and used to come late.
Mine was the first experience with a client seeking legal help. But the
virtues of a good man were still in my heart, as I was an inexperienced lawyer.
You know, the lawyers too have hearts. I decided to help the man in the right
manner. I talked with him for an hour or so and got him agreed to come after one
week and that too along with his wife.
“Look, young man. I will try to settle your issue. Okay?” I assured him.
SECOND STAGE
The assured young man did not turn up for three months.
One day, at a certain corner of the city, while going to court, I saw him
in a maternity hospital. A woman, visibly beautiful and seemingly wiser than
the guy, was stepping down the staircase. He was helping her to climb down.
They might have come for some check-ups, perhaps.
The young man recognized me from a distance. The black coat has its own
advantages, too. But he simply smiled. I, too, simply smiled. The brief
encounter ended with his broad smile.
THE STAGE OF HAPPINESS
One year passed.
It was a fine evening. I was with my wife, sitting on a garden bench. The bench was wooden and our faces were unpleasant for unknown reasons. We husband and wife hardly need a reason to be unhappy. So that was not an exceptional day.
I suddenly spotted that couple. The man who was desperately seeking divorce was
looking happy beyond recognition. They were engaged with their child.
After a while, they came to us. The man introduced me to his wife and told
me about when and why we had met the first time. The young woman was more
mature than her age. She talked with my wife and our unpleasantness too ran
way.
When the couple went away I thought about the day when he came to meet me. Had I been greedy for my fees, had I encouraged the angry young man, the scene would have been unhappily different. Society would have been slightly poorer.
