Wednesday, 11 April 2012


He is a senior lawyer, it seems he is aged about seventy,
He talks with a younger lawyer, on a case dealing,
About mentioning it in a sitting judge’s court, and
He has confidently written petition on a printed form, 
Case numbers, file numbers, and the date of events,
And he hands over the paper to the younger lawyer.

The high court corridor is crowded,
The open space is flooded with fresh air
Blowing from river, the Hooghly, and
The whole old building becomes architectural 
Landscape and its beauty beholds
The justice of truth, over age and time,
And lawyers and clients are talking,
Discussing one another’s problems and actions thereon,
Waiting for justice, it comes, even after a long time, 
It is expected to be natural in course of time.

She comes running and says to the senior lawyer,
-“Grandpa, do you help me tomorrow?”

-“Yes, why not?” he says,

-“I cannot come tomorrow as my kid has exam.”
She says.

-“Yes, tell me what I have to do?” he says.

She puts some typed blue cartridge papers
Which are properly stamped and signed,
And says,

-“My papers are ready for filing tomorrow,
I put my signature on all papers ready, 
Duly court-stamped, along with papers enclosed 
With the application, and I request you
Please file the case on behalf of me.”

He replies in simple voice, “Yes, Do not worry,
I will file the case tomorrow, and
You can take care of your kids.”

Like father, like friend, the senior lawyer moves
On the corridor of the high court, and
He feels no despair, even if he has no case to appear 
For this day or tomorrow,
He is a man of importance,  old is gold.

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