Law, laughter and the human side of justice: Tushar Mehta captures the full colour of India’s legal tapestry

This candid, self-aware view of the law has a long lineage. Fali Sam Nariman, one of the great stylists of the Indian Bar, famously remarked that “lawyers in India never retire; they simply drop dead,” a line that captures both the stamina and the self-deprecation of the profession. His witticisms sit alongside a wider tradition of legal humour and satire, ranging from courtroom anecdotes to RK Laxman’s cartoons that gently sent up bureaucrats, politicians and, at times, the legal system itself, reminding us that institutions can be both dignified and capable of laughing at their own excesses. Mehta’s books belong squarely in that tradition of looking at the Bench and the Bar with affection, irony and an eye for the quietly absurd.

The courtroom is usually imagined as a place of solemnity. It has its own rituals, hierarchy, vocabulary and traditions. The robes, arguments, citations and judgments reinforce the sense that the law is serious, ordered and exacting. But anyone who has spent time in and around courts knows that the legal world is also full of surprise, wit, eccentricity and contradiction. Even grave proceedings can produce moments that are odd, revealing or unexpectedly amusing.

These books capture that world with affection and restraint. They do not make light of the law. Rather, they make the law more accessible. They show that the dignity of the legal system is not weakened by acknowledging its quirks. If anything, institutions become more credible when they can look at themselves honestly, and with some humour. The law deals with human behaviour in all its complexity. It is natural that the world of law should also contain wit, vanity, brilliance, confusion, vulnerability and occasional absurdity.

Judges beyond borders

The Bench, the Bar and the Bizarre covers a wide canvas, including judges beyond borders, judicial eccentricities, courtroom wit, freedom of expression by judges, judicial jargon and the craft of opening a judgment. The Lawful and the Awful extends the range further, with reflections on bullying from the Bench, mobile phones and social media in the judiciary, dissenting judgments, demons and ghosts in court, artificial intelligence, fake citations, courtroom decorum and the frailties that sometimes enter even the most formal spaces of justice.

This is important because legal systems are not built only by statutes and judgments. They are also built by conventions, temperament, conduct and memory. The best institutions combine authority with humility, discipline with openness, and seriousness with a capacity for self-reflection. These books show the Bench and the Bar not as distant abstractions, but as communities of people engaged in interpreting law, resolving conflict and maintaining public trust.

The timing of these books is also relevant. India’s justice system is at an important stage in its evolution. As the economy grows, formalises and digitises, more citizens and businesses will enter formal legal and economic systems. There will be more contracts, transactions, enterprises, platforms and, inevitably, more disputes. That is part of the life of a growing society. But it also places greater pressure on the legal system to be faster, more predictable, more accessible and more citizen-focused.

This is where conversations around mediation, online dispute resolution, e-courts, technology-enabled case management and improved court administration become significant. India cannot realise its full economic and social potential unless dispute resolution becomes more efficient and affordable. Delay in justice affects not only individual litigants, but also enterprise, investment, innovation and public trust.

Enabler for justice

At the same time, technology is not a substitute for justice. It is only an enabler. It can reduce delay, lower costs, improve access and bring greater transparency. But it cannot replace fairness, reason, restraint, integrity and compassion. These books, in a lighter and more anecdotal way, reinforce that point. They remind us that law cannot be reduced to process alone. It is ultimately about judgment, trust, people and institutional character.

This is particularly clear in the sections dealing with artificial intelligence and fake citations. As AI enters legal research, drafting, education and possibly even adjudicatory support, it will bring opportunity and risk. Speed cannot become a substitute for accuracy. Legal research must remain reliable. Citations must remain honest. Argument must remain disciplined. Technology may assist lawyers and judges, but it cannot replace the essential human responsibilities of judgment and accountability.

For lawyers, these books will bring recognition and amusement. For students, they will make the law feel less intimidating. For general readers, they open a world that often appears distant and inaccessible. For those interested in reform, they offer a useful reminder that systems are improved not only through rules, infrastructure and technology, but also through a better understanding of culture, incentives, habits and human behaviour.

It is perhaps fitting that at the book launch at Bharat Mandapam, the addresses by Home Minister Amit Shah, Chief Justice of India Surya Kant, and Attorney General R Venkataramani were extremely candid, funny, and showed incredible wit, echoing the spirit of the books themselves.

India’s legal system must become faster, more modern, more transparent and more accessible. But it must also remain humane. These books show the legal world in full colour: serious but not humourless, disciplined but not mechanical, majestic but not infallible. Their quiet achievement is that they bring the Bench and the Bar closer to the people they ultimately serve.

(Amitabh Kant is the Chancellor of NIIT University, Chairman, Fairfax Centre for Free Enterprise, former G20 Sherpa, India, and former CEO, NITI Aayog)