Introduction: A Memorable Conversation
There are some interviews you listen to and forget. And then there are some that sit inside your mind long after the conversation has ended, quietly nudging you, making you think, question, and feel. This was one such interview.
As I listened, it did not feel like a structured Q&A. It felt like sitting in a moving car, witnessing layers of a life unfold — part memoir, part philosophy, part law, part music, and part deeply human reflection. What struck me most was not just what was said, but how it was said — with warmth, humility, wit, and an unmistakable sense of lived experience.
Middle-Class Roots and Values
The former Chief Justice spoke like someone who had carried both the weight of the robe and the lightness of an ordinary childhood. He spoke of tea, stitched shorts, ration shops, and an Ambassador car from 1966 — small details that painted a vivid picture of a middle-class upbringing that shaped his values far more than any courtroom ever could.
Key Motifs From His Childhood
- Tea, stitched shorts, ration shops
- An Ambassador car from 1966
- A middle-class upbringing that shaped his values
Empathy, Disability, and Accessibility
What stayed with me was his deep sense of empathy — something that is rare in those who have occupied positions of immense power. When he spoke about disability, accessibility, and his own daughters, the tone shifted. This was no longer a judge speaking in legal language; this was a father speaking from the heart. His stories of inaccessible footpaths, tiny bathrooms, and a young girl who could not use a toilet for 10–11 hours due to lack of ramps were not just statistics — they were moral indictments of our society.
Listening to him describe how he once directed the admission of a differently-abled student to medical college made me reflect on a larger question: Why must people with disabilities be “super achievers” just to be treated equally? Why do we celebrate exceptions instead of fixing the system?
From Lawyer to Judge
Equally fascinating was his transition from lawyer to judge — from a bustling world of camaraderie, tea breaks, and legal banter to the quiet isolation of the bench. His nostalgia for cutting chai, roadside dosa, and late-evening conversations with juniors felt almost poetic. It reminded me that law is not just statutes and judgments; it is a lived culture.
Art, Free Speech, and Controversy
His reflections on art, free speech, and controversy were particularly thought-provoking. “What is art if you don’t allow for controversy?” he asked — a question that lingers uncomfortably in today’s climate of shrinking tolerance. His concern about the chilling effect of arbitrary arrests on young voices made me realize how fragile free expression truly is.
India’s Journey and the Vision for 2047
Yet, he was not cynical. He spoke of India’s journey with measured optimism — from food shortages to surplus, from limited education to expanding opportunities. His vision of India in 2047 was not utopian, but practical: equitable access, better skills, real employment, and meaningful participation of women and youth.
Music That Humanized Him
What surprised me most was his relationship with music. From Kishori Amonkar singing in his home, to tabla lessons cut short by a worried father, to Bob Dylan, ABBA, Adele, and playlists curated by his daughters — it revealed a man far more layered than the public image of a judge. The law had shaped him, but music had humanized him.
A Journey Through Delhi and History
As the conversation wound through Delhi’s crowded streets, I felt as though I was not just hearing a retired judge, but traveling through decades of Indian history, culture, and conscience.
Why This Interview Mattered
By the end of it, I realized why this interview moved me so deeply. It was not merely about law or leadership — it was about dignity, empathy, and the responsibility we owe to each other as citizens.
And that is why I felt compelled to write this.
Conclusion: Conversations Worth Remembering
Because some conversations are not meant to be archived. They are meant to be remembered.
