Amidst The Rush Of Robes, She Remains: The Story Of Usha Devi At Allahabad High Court

While waiting for my case to be heard at the Allahabad High Court, I met Usha Devi in the court corridors—a woman whose kindness has touched countless lives. For years, she has been selflessly serving free water to everyone who passes by, from advocates, litigants and even to judges.

Last week, I had the opportunity to appear in a matter before the Allahabad High Court, which has a grand structure which stands in the heart of Allahabad (now Prayagraj). The route to the High Court is peculiarly fascinating – a broad bridge acts as a gateway, beneath which clusters of advocates in black robes create a living – some sitting on rickety wooden chairs, some getting their prints done, others lingering near the notary desk.

As I made my way through the chaotic yet strangely rhythmic lanes leading to the courtoom, the journey itself felt like a prelude to the drama that unfolds inside. Courts are not only about cases, lawyers, dates and litigation – beyond these, there are people who make it a better place. Crossing security checks feels like stepping into a different world—one where time bends to the demands of court listings and adjournments.

And just beyond this hive of activity, inside the High Court's towering gates, sits Usha Devi, a figure of quiet authority amidst the whirlwind. She is seventy six years old – from outside – and a child-like figure from inside. She was sitting with a wooden table and a chair (which was probably four decades old) with a bundle of bottles – which she was refilling through a pipeline connection placed next to her chair.

Her presence could be felt by everyone who passes through that corridor and is almost paradoxical—calm yet commanding, unnoticed by many yet indispensable to those who know. As I navigated through the corridors, her desk emerged like an anchor, a fixed point in the ever-churning sea of files, clerks, and harried lawyers. Little did I know then how deeply our paths would cross, or how her story would unravel in ways I hadn't imagined.

It was around lunch time – when I was waiting for my colleague to get a set of prints from the All India Reporter (AIR) Café – when I met Usha Devi. I was carrying a bag, and a file when I heard a voice saying, “Arey, kaha jaana hain? Paani peeke jaao, bahut garmi hain. Allahabad se toh nahi ho aap?” (Hey, where are you heading? Have some water, it is too hot outside. You don't seem to be from Allahabad?)

I sat down next to her on a wooden chair to have a sip of water . Usha Devi told me that she has been sitting here since 1991, and has been offering/serving free water to everyone. She tells me that she came here for the first time in the late 90s, when she brought someone to the High Court for a medical emergency – following which she started working at the High Court, where her sister was also working (doing the same work as she is doing, serving free water).

Usha Devi: “I have been sitting here since 1991, I have served so many people, so many lawyers.  I have seen this High Court growing, I have seen judges, I have seen lawyers, I have people who drank water from here as advocates, then judges and now, even after retirement – some of them keep coming to visit me.”

But her warmth doesn't stop there. Usha Daddi (as she's fondly called) also keeps small essentials that lawyers often need during breaks. What truly won me over? Her special "magical mixture" of saunf and gur—a sweet, refreshing bite she insisted I try before I headed back to Court No. 68

When I asked her about it, she smiled and said, "This is my secret. I make it myself—sauf, gud, coconut. I give it to everyone—lawyers waiting for their cases, people waiting for their fate, even those young ones who need it after their… 'small breaks.'”

She told me she has two sons, both settled in Allahabad with good jobs. She doesn't work here for the money. For her, this is seva—service. Her days, from 9 to 5, aren't just about files and names. They're about kindness, connection, and the quiet understanding that in a place where so much depends on the law, sometimes what people need most is a little humanity.

In a world that often feels rushed and transactional, Usha Devi's simple acts of kindness are a beautiful reminder of humanity's best side. We need more people like her—those who give without expectation and brighten the lives of strangers, one small gesture at a time.

Justice is the demand and that is likely to be served as well, albeit after testing one's resolve. But what if water is the demand in a court premise? Usha Devi has been serving that in the revered corridors of the Allahabad High Court for over 34 years now.

A court is not just about hearings, trials and what happens during them, but also; in between breaks, breathers and lunch time.  

I hope Usha Daddi stays just as she is—kind, generous, and full of that magic saunf-gur wisdom. May she always be in good health, and may her spirit continue to brighten the corridors of justice for years to come.

(Areeb Uddin Ahmed is a practising advocate at the Allahabad High Court. He writes on law and justice. He can be reached at adv.areebuddin@gmail.com)