Ode To Fair Lady In Blindfolds Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

More than a score of years get spilled over,
The justice logging bare a single lap,
The guilty still loose, large as heretofore
And on bail flaunting honourable cap!

The coveted court with a supreme clout
Vouching their wisdom as always too late,
Ensconced in legalese not once in doubt,
Whilst alpha bulls scale the wide ajar gate!

We all have often heard this hackneyed tale,
Told, retold over half a century
Of utter wrong legally on avail,
Black coats, white wigs in too little hurry.

And there are tacklers playing against laws,
And poppy-fingered pegs enforcing them,
Itchy-palmed busybodies with soft paws,
Together they mess up legal emblem.

And every such peg in legal domain,
And justice delayed even if done well,
Displaces a brick in utter disdain
From the edifice of justice we hail.

If justice delayed is fairness denied,
We may know it but not well enough still,
Perhaps courts are in search, and bleary-eyed,
Of perfection; wish there was such a pill.

And till invent we can such a fair pill,
I wish our weighed wisdom is humane more
Than wise, and delivered dry of vain drill;
Pray, precision's a sphere of Pearly Shore.

So cut down on needless details so dire,
And keep a keen eye rather on quickness,
For, minutiae legal maids tend to tire,
Too many fine points mend not, only mess.

How hundreds of witnesses vouch for wrong?
What pages packed with affidavits will?
What use judgments so erudite and long?
To me, they add to slow-paced legal ill.

Judges need not by jaunty phrase be judged,
Long judgments I think show lack of clear mind,
Long winding be the mind terribly fudged,
A mind in layers lined goes round in grind.

Fix a limit to all this needless fuss
And the result shall soon be there to see,
Earlier reaches a straight going buss,
Not one that winds, pulling stops so many.

More people only fill up extra time,
And more courts may be of marginal aid,
Simplify, shorten till it sings in rhyme,
And open up the blindfolds of the maid!

And one li'le thing if ye mind not Me Lord,
Good, ye have gotten rid of that white wig,
There's still me think many a twisted cord,
Courts still need to go a long way and big.

There are finest of brains working behind,
And the country's still proud of what has been,
But it's up to you your own bugs to find,
Justice largely given let it now be so seen.
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Happenings | 01.06.10 |