The Dilemma: Something Must Be Done, or Why Should We Bother?

The Incidents:

1. The First Incident: I completed my secondary education at Kendriya Vidyalaya, Beawar, Rajasthan. Every week, during our school assembly, we had a General Knowledge Day, where a representative from the house-in-charge would ask questions for different grade levels. The student attempting to answer had to step onto the stage, pick up the microphone, and respond. Naturally, the difficulty level of the questions increased for higher standards. In hindsight, this format appears to have been replicated decades later by Kaun Banega Crorepati.

During one such session, a question was posed to second-standard students: “What is the full name of our school principal?” A student confidently answered, “Mr. R.B. Meena.” The host refused to acknowledge it as correct, insisting that the answer was incomplete. At that moment, our principal, who was attending the assembly, interjected and directed the host to accept the answer as correct. Those of us in the higher grades understood the principal’s anxiety (or embarrassment), as his full name was Mr. Ram Bharose Meena.

This incident, now over a quarter of a century old, left a lasting impression on me. A teacher standing close by whispered, “It’s such an apt name. The school runs ‘Ram Bharose’. In fact, the entire country runs ‘Ram Bharose’. It always has, and it always will.”

2. The Second Incident: We belong to a conservative family, largely opposed to inter-caste and inter-religious marriages. While mindsets are gradually evolving with each generation, thanks to greater professional and societal exposure, those who have rarely stepped beyond the confines of Beawar remain staunchly and aggressively against such progressive ideas.

One of the primary arguments against inter-caste marriage in our family has always been: “What will people in society think?” In response, I once remarked, “Society will gossip about this inter-caste marriage until the next one happens.” That was the end of the argument.

3. The Third Incident: When the incident of cash burning was reported in the media, I spoke to one of my best friends, a litigation partner at one of the country’s most prominent law firms. Jokingly, I suggested that he should take moral responsibility for the incident and quit the profession.

My seemingly humorous remark was met with a question: “Why should I resign? What possible benefit would there be in my unnecessarily taking responsibility for this incident?”

I countered, “The same benefit that Gandhi Ji had while struggling for independence and Anna Hazare had while fasting for Lokpal.”

What started as a light-hearted exchange took a more serious turn. He replied, “Yaar, I think it takes a lot of mettle to do something selflessly for society, without any personal gain. I wonder how many people today have it in them to take such brave steps.”

Is My Country Actually Running Ram Bharose?

Rising air and water pollution, hospital deaths due to power failures, worsening traffic and parking struggles, global warming, stampedes, rampant nepotism, corruption at every level, soaring prices, the commercialization of religion, endless litigation, the menace of drugs—each passing year, these issues only seem to multiply, while our tolerance for them increases. The hope for a better world diminishes with time, and the guilt of passing an unsolved mess onto the next generation grows heavier.

I may not have definitive solutions, but I can certainly flag some idealistic ones.

Our leaders (with some exceptions) are skilled at delivering speeches but rarely practice what they preach. Senior lawyers and judges advocate for judicial reforms while conveniently ignoring the out-of-turn privileges enjoyed by their kin. I firmly believe that financial aspirations are not inherently wrong, but there must be a threshold for how much one is willing to compromise their conscience.

Privileged individuals may benefit from their social capital, but at the very least, they should make some effort to prove their worth. Our country can no longer afford meritless generations squandering political dynasties, business empires, or professional legacies. India has immense talent and innovative leaders. If those in power adopt even a single guiding philosophy—“If my son is competent, why hoard wealth for him? If he is incompetent, why hoard wealth for him?”—exemplary changes will follow.

Another deeply ingrained issue is our societal aversion to accountability. People seldom take responsibility, yet they are quick to criticize those who do. No one wants to maintain the neighborhood park, but everyone is eager to point out its flaws. A judge attempting to digitize hearings will face resistance from peers and the system itself. If we are to move past this Ram Bharose mindset, a fundamental shift in attitude is required.

The Shelf Life of This Controversy

Shah Rukh Khan maintained dignified silence when Aryan was arrested. Podcast hosts mired in controversy are advised to do the same. The KL Rahul-Hardik Pandya Koffee with Karan scandal faded into obscurity. Today’s law students barely discuss the unprecedented media confrontation by four sitting Supreme Court judges.

This controversy will be no different. It is the hot topic of the moment, with everyone forming an opinion on it. But soon, it will become yesterday’s news. However, this should not be forgotten. This is one of the darkest phases of Indian judiciary, and if we allow it to be buried in memory, no lesson will be learned. The incident must be deeply probed, those responsible for the unaccounted cash must be held accountable, and a precedent, at least an impression, of zero tolerance toward corruption must be established to retain our confidence in the judiciary.

What Do We Do?

Lawyers face a daily dilemma: should they align with the Bench’s expectations or remain governed by their conscience, even at the risk of professional setbacks? Unfortunately, the latter category is shrinking.

When Mr. Sudhir Nandrajog, Senior Advocate, resigned from the panel designated to confer Senior Advocate status, some feared it might adversely affect his practice. Yet, there was also admiration and respect for his courage. That courage is what our judiciary desperately needs.

However, summoning such courage is not easy in a profession that conditions individuals to be fearful. We are taught never to challenge managing partners, never to push for a hearing when threatened with costs, and never to counter Senior Advocates or Law Officers out of turn. Hierarchy is paramount, and being a yes-man is considered the most valuable trait.

This mindset erodes strength. When a Senior Advocate enjoys undue indulgences while a young lawyer struggles for mere acknowledgment, the system weakens. The system will regain its strength when junior lawyers are encouraged, senior lawyers take morally driven stands (as Mr. Nandrajog did), and open discussions flourish without fear of offending the powerful.

If even a few of us take these steps, we won’t need the sacrifices of an Anna Hazare or a Mahatma Gandhi to bring about change. Even an ordinary middle-class citizen will contribute to improving the system.