Opinion Justice Ahmadi, my grandfather

While my grandfather’s public contributions are well-known and well-documented, less is known about his personal life. A member of the Dawoodi Bohra community, my great-grandfather served as a magistrate during the British Raj. As a father himself, my grandfather was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. After my parents decided to part ways, my grandparents insisted that my mother moves to Delhi to stay with them. And that is how my brother and I, as young children, ended up under the protection of my remarkable grandfather where we remained until adulthood. It was here that we watched keenly, learning the difficult yet essential lessons of integrity, conviction and courage under fire while maintaining dignity.

One of my grandfather’s landmark cases was S R Bommai v Union of India, which had far-reaching implications for the Indian Constitution and the relationship between central and state governments. While this historic verdict was significant in its efforts to curb the potential misuse of power by the central government, the case also touched upon the secular nature of India. Justice Ahmadi, one of the judges on the bench, wrote a separate 37-page judgment in which he emphasised the importance of accommodation and tolerance towards vulnerable religious, social, and linguistic groups. A firm believer in the ideals of secularism, these were not only preached in the courtroom, but also practised at home.

This was demonstrated time and again, but particularly a decade ago when I took the decision to get married. I remember approaching my grandfather with some trepidation to request a private dinner to discuss something important. When I revealed to him that the person I wanted to marry was a Hindu, he interrupted me mid-sentence and brushed my concerns away, saying, “All that matters is the boy’s character. Not his religion. Ask him to come home on the weekend to meet me.” And so, it was with his blessing that I proceeded with an interfaith marriage at a time when such decisions can be considered politically sensitive.

As a 10-year-old in 1992, I remember watching disturbing visuals of the Babri Masjid being vandalised on a news channel. I was also aware from watching television news crews setting up in our home, that my grandfather was somehow involved in the ensuing turbulence. I now know that in 1993, he, along with Justice S P Bharucha dissented with the majority view of the bench in the Acquisition of Certain Area of Ayodhya Act citing the Act as unconstitutional and violative of the principles of secularism. The opinion authored by Justice Bharucha stated, “Ayodhya is a storm that will pass. The dignity and honour of the Supreme Court cannot be compromised because of it.”

My grandfather was a man of conviction, and I saw this first-hand on several occasions, but most profoundly during the tumultuous aftermath of the Bhopal gas tragedy case. I watched in awe as hostile television anchors and activists attacked him relentlessly on prime time, only to be confronted with dignity and poise. His steadfastness was well-founded, as his decision was vindicated when it was upheld by the Supreme Court of India after his retirement, and then again in 2010 when the CBI’s Curative Petition was dismissed by the SC. One night, over a family dinner, my mother and uncle — both successful advocates themselves — asked him if he had felt hurt by the rantings of the press over his judgment. I remember his response, “My conscience is clear, so why should I be hurt? The press can be fickle — we must always be guided by the truth alone.”

Although my grandfather was widely known for his professional qualities, not many know that he was also blessed with a wicked sense of humour. In the evenings, he could occasionally be tempted into a game of ludo or table tennis — but only so long as we approached him after the 9 pm news telecast. Then he was full of stories and chuckles that went on well into the night. Sometimes, however, these evenings were quieter — with deep conversations that were held during post-dinner walks in the gardens amongst the scent of raat ki raani and jasmine flowers. It was in these moments that I truly discovered his depth of character, mischievous wit, and contagious zest for life.

A staunch champion of human rights, Justice Ahmadi’s illustrious career was not confined by the borders of India. He had, at the behest of the United Nations, International Court of Justice, World Bank and International Bar Association’s Human Rights Institute, led several delegations and missions to East Timor, Liberia, Bangladesh and Zimbabwe respectively.

Try as I might to encapsulate my grandfather’s contributions to the Indian legal system and international community, they are, ultimately, immeasurable. Although he no longer walks amongst us, and the world feels like a light has gone out without him, his legacy and memory live on forever in the hearts of all those who had the privilege of knowing him. Rest in peace, my beloved grandfather. You will be forever missed.

The writer is a journalist, commentator, and scholar