Karkardooma Court
When I arrived at Karkardooma Courthouse, Mr. Bali was speaking with a man intently, smiling and holding up a finger to me, indicating that I was to wait just a second while he continued to address the man. I had met Mr. Bali once before, and knew him to be kind and dedicated to his work. This seemed to be an example of that.
I took the time to look around. Each floor of the courthouse had a large central area where people waited nervously for a trial or hearing to begin. It reminded me of a train station, with benches of attached seats, full of couples or men with motorcycle helmets on their lap. One row of seats contained four generations of a family. A child ran in circles, giggling, not realizing his young parents’ nervousness at whatever judicial decision awaited them.
Mr. Bali joined me, carrying a stuffed folder printed with a Delhi Legal Services emblem that read “Access to Justice for All.” He walked me through the halls, and up a few flights of stairs, stopping to shake hands and share a laugh with several groups of other lawyers, many of them half his age. Mr. Bali has been practicing law for nearly 20 years, and takes on both private civil and criminal cases, as well as several pro bono cases each month for IBJ India Duty Lawyers Project. One of his private criminal matters was about to begin, so he led me into the courtroom and directed me to a chair in the back where I could watch him examine a witness.
His client was being tried for murder, and this witness, the client’s wife, was to provide valuable testimony that in fact the client had been caring for a sick family member during the time the murder occurred, across the city from the murder location. She was a very slight woman, and was visibly nervous—she would answer a question Mr. Bali asked her, and then move the headscarf of her yellow sari between her lips, holding it in place while she pulled another part of the sheer fabric forward to cover her face. She did this many times during her testimony. Outside the courtroom, Mr. Bali met with the witness and a crowd of others, including elderly family members and the two daughters of the witness and the accused client. He spoke with them in Hindi, giving them details about what to expect next, and listening intently to their questions so he could answer them with what seemed like comforting words. When he had said goodbye, we walked brisquely to another part of the courthouse. That had been Session Court, Mr. Bali explained, where more serious offenses are tried. Now we will go before a magistrate for the bail hearing.
Mr. Bali was representing a man in a bail hearing for his work as a Duty Lawyer. The bail hearing was not for an hour, so we had some tea, and sat down outside of a courtroom to wait for the hearing to begin. I asked him about his work—why had he become a lawyer? He laughed at the simplicity of the question. So many reasons. Everyone deserves proper representation, he said. Doctors help pain and suffering of people, and I believe that is what we do as lawyers—it is our higher reason for being a lawyerl; I try to help people who have a chance to be rehabilitated. Mr. Bali spends nearly every weekday at court, he told me—that is why I only answer your emails late at night! It was the only time he had to check his email. He represents people in two or three cases each day, between his private practice and legal aid work.
As part of the DPL, Mr. Bali visits Jail numbers 8 and 9 in Delhi on Saturdays. He meets with accused persons, and represents those eligible in bail application hearings—many incarcerated people have the right to file bail applications and be released on bail due to the nature of the offense (called a bailable offense, often reserved for less serious crimes). A release from poor conditions in jail means that accused persons can try to make some income and be with their family before their trial begins, but many people do not know they have this right. Mr. Bali arrives at the jail at 2:30 p.m. each Saturday, often staying until 7:00 p.m. to get through the line of incarcerated people who wish to meet with him. He took on 19 bail application cases during the month of March.
As the hearing nears, we move from the waiting area to the crowded courtroom. We watch several cases before Mr. Bali’s is heard. In one, an old man with sunken cheeks and a beard dyed with red henna is speaking emphatically to the judge, and an older woman, his mother, is speaking over him. He had suddenly kicked out his wife and two daughters, and the entire courtroom erupted in laughter when the older woman described his recent erratic behavior. The judge smiled, made a quick decision, and moved on. Another case involved a father and a police person. The father had submitted a missing persons report for his daughter, claimed to have paid a bribe to the police officer, and the complaint indicated that the police had done nothing to investigate his daugter’s disappearance. The policeman said the daughter was an adult, and therefore he was not obligated to search for her. Mr. Bali nodded as the judge spoke. Later, he told me that the judge informed the men that he did not have jurisdiction over the case, but asked the police officers to produce the mandatory files kept on these matters. In this way, Mr. Bali commented, he used proper procedure to hold the policeman accoutable. I respected Mr. Bali’s respect for proper procedure
When the same judge heard Mr. Bali’s case, he listened to Mr. Bali’s arguments, and granted the client bail for 10,000 rupees, about EUR 120. The client now had to show only that he had something of this value—he was not obligated to pay the sum of the money in order to be released. This arrangement is accessible to many clients, and is a very favorable outcome. Mr. Bali seemed excited to call his client, saying he would do so that afternoon to inform him that he needed to get the surety together
He treated me to a lunch at the courthouse cafeteria, where we talked of family—he has a wife and two children—and history, and religion. Then I thanked him, and he was quickly on to the next case.
Profile of Courtney Marie Skiles — Legal Intern
Courtney is a new lawyer in the United States, and recent graduate of the University of Washington School of Law. Her interest in international prison reform and human rights, and her involvement with the Innocence Project Northwest’s legislative adovocacy team in Seattle led her to IBJ India’s work, after she temporarily relocated to New Delhi with her partner. She enjoys legal research, writing, learning about India’s justice system, and visiting court with IBJ India lawyers. She will begin a judicial clerkship in Seattle in August 2014.
