THIS ABOVE ALL
Judiciary and corruption
Khushwant Singh 

Shanti Bhushan, ex-Law Minister, and now a leading advocate in the Supreme Court, has published the names of eight out of 16 former Chief Justices of India who were corrupt. In its turn, the Supreme Court has charged him with contempt of court. It has shaken the nation’s faith in its judiciary. It is reasonable to assume that if half of the Chief Justices of our highest court of justice were tainted, the ratio of corrupt judges in other courts, like states’ High Courts and sessions courts, besides magistrates and tehsildars, was bound to have been higher.

We have to face the fact that in our country verdicts of courts are purchasable by those who can pay for them. It is a grim scenario in which the aam aadmi is always the loser. I have not the foggiest idea what we can do about it.

I happen to know a few of the Chief Justices that Shanti Bhushan has named. Some I suspected of having religious or political bias. That is human failing and forgivable. But taking money to pronounce judgement in favour of a contending party is criminal and deserves severe punishment. One of the judges named by Shanti Bhushan I have known since he was one year old. I knew his grandparents, parents, his uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces.

In short, our families were, and are, as close to each other as any two families can be.`A0I know this judge right from school days to the time when he joined law college and became a judge, then the Chief Justice of a state High Court, and finally when he was elevated to the Supreme Court and ended up as its Chief Justice. After retiring he took life easy. But he suffered from what I call the Chaudhary complex. He wanted to be the boss of any institution he was member of. So he has become president of the Delhi Public Schools Society and clubs he was member of.

One morning, as he was leaving for a holiday in Goa and his luggage had been loaded into the car to take him to the airport, he had a massive stroke. He lost his power of speech and became unsteady on his feet. He is still unable to utter a word. I feel it is my duty to answer Bhushan’s charges against him. I will do so — not in the Supreme Court but in my columns.

Last year when I turned 95, I decided to liberate myself from the shackles of deadlines and learn to live in peace, doing absolutely nothing. That was not to be. A close lady friend, who occasionally drops in for a drink, asked me: "So, what are you up to now?" I replied: "Nothing. My New Year’s resolution was to do nothing." Undeterred, she said: "Don’t be silly; write about your friends now dead. You have told me so much about them." I tried to put the idea out of my mind. I failed. I began to think about them and started writing about them. A fortnight ago, I finished revising it. I called it Sunset Club because the three main characters are in the sunset of their loves. It is largely based on their sexual fantasies of what they did in their younger days and are unable to do in their late 80s. It will be launched in early November. I decided to celebrate the event when I wrote the words tamaam shud.

The only way I know of how to celebrate is to treat myself with a gourmet feast. I am no longer able to go out but, fortunately, many eateries are within easy walking distance, which deliver meals at your doorstep. More than a dozen are located in Khan Market. There is Ambassador Hotel, and a few eateries in Pandara Park. One can get Mughlai, French, Italian, Chinese, Thai, Burmese or Japanese food. I ruled them out because wine does not go with any of them. The food has to be European, French or Italian.

So I asked my daughter Mala to go across the road to Ambassador Hotel and have a chat with the chief chef Sanjay Vij, who I had known in my years in Bombay. "Leave it to me", he said. "You will have it delivered 10 minutes before your dinner time at 8 pm." She paid the bill. As promised, the dinner arrived on the dot. It consisted of prawns with sauces and salad.

The dessert was something called Bulls Eye. It was indeed delicious. A couple of glasses of Indian red wine (Grover and Sula can match any foreign product) went well with the dinner. Wrongly named Bulls Eye — because the chocolate cake is shaped like a target with a hole in it. With a dollop of vanilla icecream, it was the tastiest dessert I have ever eaten. To cap it all, a meal meant for one lasted two evenings for three of my family.

My friend’s son, Golu, used to bite his nails. I advised him to send Golu to Baba Ram Dev, who will teach him some yoga. After two months I asked my friend: "How is Golu now?"

My friend said: "Now Golu can bite his toe nails also."

Santa told Banta: "I gifted my wife a diamond necklace last week on our anniversary, and she did not speak to me for two months."

Banta: "Why so, was it fake?"

Santa: "No, that was the deal."

(Contributed by JP Singh Kaka, Bhopal)