Not Out

 One hot afternoon in the Bar Room of District Court, where the fans spin like they’re on strike and the chai tastes like sugar syrup with colour, a senior lawyer was in full mood.

He looked at Retired Judge Ramakant Verma, sitting calmly with his usual cup of over-sweet tea, and said with great pride, “Sir, your career is really great! Not even one corruption charge. So clean. So honest!”

Justice Verma smiled, stirred his tea, and replied, “Full credit goes to the corrupt people.”

The senior lawyer looked confused. “How is that, sir?”

The judge gave a calm reply, “In their eyes, I was not good enough to be offered a bribe.”

The whole Bar Room went quiet. Even the peon stopped pouring water into the leaking jug.

“You mean,” said the senior lawyer, “they didn’t even try to bribe you?”

“Exactly,” said the judge. “I sat on the bench for 30 years. Passed thousands of orders. Gave many judgments. But not even once did someone try to hand me an envelope. No fruit basket. No Diwali sweets. Nothing. I was so clean, I was invisible to the system.”

A young lawyer, who had just joined the profession and was still full of hope (and unpaid internships), asked, “Sir, weren’t you proud of your honesty?”

“Of course I was,” said Justice Verma. “But you tell me—can you be proud of not doing something you were never even asked to do? It’s like a cricketer saying he didn’t get out, but he was never sent to bat!”