18 Sep 2008
in Situation in a Delhi circuit court.
Tragedy of a TOUT
Our court has always been full of touts. Still you have them in hundreds. I do not know what was so special about that one- there was nothing I say! They had tied a manila rope around his waist. His face was blackened with coal tar and his head was half shaved off. Obligingly and without resistance, he walked slowly ahead of them and stopped at every few feet. A group of lawyers in an unkempt trailing crowd, like a comet, tailed him. They talked among themselves jostled and laughed with vibrant gestures. He walked obligingly like a leashed pet monkey ahead of his master, stopping every few feet though the crowded lane, bi-lanes and then stepped into the broad squares of the court complex, brimming with public, lawyers, prisoners and police officers, honored with glimpses of shame. I was gripped by a queer sense of un-easiness and discomfort. I sprinted ahead to read the placard hung by a thin nylon thread from his neck. It said “I am a tout’. A chill ran down my spine when I peeped into his wet eyes -no eyes had spoken to me such a sorrow and dejection- no not even of those relatives grieving over their dead bodies. That poor man, the middle stature man was paraded for hours in the court complex, the rope being passed to the hands of some other and yet some other of the lawyers as time and distance progressed Hundreds of them watched him- the police, the judicial officers, the public, the lawyers of all ages and sex. Nobody asked a simple question: “there are so many what is so special about this gentleman” and” Who has empowered them to take law in their own hands and mete out a punishment not in the law books of the world’?. The police and the public may be afraid because that was the citadel of the advocates where they rule the roost. But why no lawyers stopped and barred their way. There were powerful lawyers still more powerful called Bar Association. After many months near the canteen, I heard somebody say that the poor man never returned to his home. I am sure that they did not kill him. God knows what he did to himself or what he is doing to himself and where? Believe me sirs I am a witness and this is one the heart rending episodes that keep taking place in our court premises of 5000 registered lawyers who are called officers of the court, in the capital of the country and the crown of our city .The office bearer of the Bar are beggars who have begged and spent a fortune to win -poor fellows have no choices to make and seem not to have hearts also.