Ahh, the cubicle conundrum strikes again—fresh off the Bombay High Court's December 8, 2025, bench slap during a whirlwind of over 100 local-body election petitions.Chief Justice Shree Chandrashekhar's zinger—"You cannot address the Court sitting in a car"—landed like a gavel on a gearshift, disconnecting a hapless Nagpur lawyer mid-plea. Fair enough for the optics; no one wants dashboard divas turning deliberations into drive-thru debates. But the follow-up? A stern directive to the Maharashtra government: "Immediately identify and allocate space" for lawyer cubicles in or near court premises, as an "interim" fix until that mythical new building materializes. It's like prescribing a luxury lounge for a headache—well-intentioned, perhaps, but wildly out of touch with the feverish reality of India's 1.45 billion-strong legal scrum.
Your point cuts straight to the spleen of this absurdity, and it's a gut-punch worth amplifying: Imagine an ailing advocate, bedridden in a distant district, fighting tooth and nail (or IV drip and laptop) for a penniless client's short at justice. Under this booth-or-bust regime, they'd be compelled to hobble to the "nearest" High Court-adjacent kiosk, elbow through a queue longer than a Kumbh Mela line, and pray their number flashes before the fever spikes. In a nation where public transport is a contact sport and hospitals are hours away, this isn't decorum—it's a death march for due process. Absurd? Utterly. Meaningless? For the soul of virtual hearings, yes. These weren't meant to be gated communities for the able-bodied; they were lifelines for the overlooked, democratizing dockets from dingy homes to dusty villages.
But here's the silver lining you astutely spotlight: Virtual hearings aren't just convenient—they're a window into the *sickening reality* (pun very much intended) that paper pleadings can't capture. Picture a witness testifying from a crumbling slum shack, floodwaters lapping at the lens, or a victim spilling trauma amid the chaos of a crowded courtyard, kids scampering in the background. That unfiltered feed? It's evidentiary gold, painting the "heat of the moment" in pixels: socioeconomic scars, environmental hazards, community pressures—all the gritty context that turns "cherished words on paper" into lived, lacerating truth.
Courts could glimpse the locality's underbelly, the home's harsh hand-me-downs, the party's precarious perch—insights that rigid rituals (band-gown mandatory, backgrounds blurred to bland) would whitewash away. It's not voyeurism; it's visceral justice, reminding benches that equity isn't served in sterile studios but in the raw theater of real lives.
A Humble (Yet Hilariously Overdue) Solution: Etiquette with Empathy
So, how do we fix this without funding a fleet of faux courtrooms? Ditch the drywall dreams and draft a national "Virtual Hearing Humanity Handbook"—a crisp, compassionate code that honors decorum without exiling the desperate. Here's my pitch, laced with lawful levity to keep the Bar from barfing:
Core Etiquette Essentials (No Excuses Edition)
- Backdrop Basics: Neutral wall or digital drape—laundry optional, but no live-action laundry day. (Pro tip: Blurring beats building.)
- Attire Alert: Band and gown, or tidy equivalents. Pajamas? Only if you're pleading insanity.
- Audio Sanity : Headphones on, echoes off. Mute like your reputation depends on it—because it does.
- Stationary Stance : Parked and poised; no vehicular ventriloquism. (Exception: Ambulances get a pass—justice rolls on wheels too.)
Connectivity Lifesavers (India-Proofed)
- Bandwidth Buffer: Video preferred, but audio-only for outages. (Because Jio's "unlimited" has limits.)
- Tech Triage: Courts provide fallback lines for flops—dial-in dignity without the data drain.
Judicial Judo Moves (Enforce, Don't Erect)
- Quick Cuts: Disconnect disruptors faster than a bad Zoom filter.
- Penalty Playbook: Costs for chronic clowns; mandatory in-person for repeat offenders.
- Mercy Clauses: Waive rules for the unwell, witnesses in witness protection (literal or logistical), or parties pinned by pandemics/power cuts. A doctor's note? Golden ticket to guest-spot from the sickbed.
This isn't rocket science—it's rulebook reform, scalable from Supreme Court spires to district dens. Roll it out via a simple Supreme Court circular, with Bar Councils as bootcamp bouncers for training. Cost? Pennies compared to cubicle casinos. Benefit? A judiciary that adapts, not architects that bankrupt.
Revolution Reminder: Justice Over Jitters
Bombay High Court, Supreme Court of India—take this as a loving (if laughter-laced) nudge: Revolutionize virtual hearings not with rigid rituals that rigidify access, but with practical proofs that humanize it. Embrace the "appreciated evidence" of unvarnished lives—these glimpses into ghettos and griefs aren't glitches; they're the gospel truth that tempers judgments with tangible tenderness. Leave the comfort of curated cubicles (and car-free fantasies) for the sick reality you serve: a teeming tapestry of trials where one fevered fighter can tip the scales for the forgotten.
In the end, decorum is a dress code for the courtroom, not a demolition derby for the disadvantaged. Enforce it with empathy, wield tech as a telescope into truth, and remember: The noblest cause—justice—isn't polished in booths; it's forged in the fire of flawed, fervent humanity. Log on, lean in, and let the real world light the lens. Your Honors, the Bar's waiting—wirelessly, warts and all.
Adv. Mangesh Dhumal.
indialegalsolutions17
@gmail.com.