Justice Rekha Palli: Recollections Of A Law Researcher

My interaction with Justice Palli was brief. She skimmed through my CV and threw me a stern glance, asking, “Would you be able to do it?” The first time she posed this question I felt a wave of uncertainty and mumbled a meek 'yes'. Little did I know that over the next month, throughout the period of my assessment, she would ask me the same question---again and again--- until I learnt to respond with a firm “Yes”. Justice Rekha Palli is like that. She pushes you until you learn to stand on your own.

As I was leaving her chamber, she asked, "Does anyone in your family practice law?"

"Yes, Ma'am—my brother. But we are both first-generation lawyers."

She smiled slightly and said, "So what? Even first-generation lawyers perform exceptionally well." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Jitne paise mile, save karna. Independent hone mein kaam aayenge." (“Whatever money you earn, save it. It would help you become independent later”) As I took her leave, she said, "take care," and in that moment, I caught a glimpse of her compassion, which, throughout my tenure as an LR in her chamber, I would witness in small yet meaningful ways—both in and out of court. Some days, she would surprise the LRs by bringing chocolates, while on others, whenever an LR was on leave due to illness, she always ensured someone checked in on them and would personally inquire about their health the next day. While she was stern, she was also incredibly approachable. She treated her Court Staff with respect and humility, ensuring they always felt comfortable seeking her help when needed. Further, having worked extensively on matters related to the Armed Forces, Justice Palli has always been vocal about the deep respect she holds for them. Every day as she passed the guards who stood at attention and saluted, she would return their salute—an acknowledgment of their service and discipline.

Yet, despite all this, for the longest time—and, if I were to be honest, still a little—I was intimidated by her. She would catch even the smallest of my mistakes (such as a misplaced comma when it should have been a semicolon) and I have no doubts that if she were to read this account, she would start correcting it too.

Visiting her residence on weekends, however, allowed me to see a different side of her. She would ask me about my plans and my family and then offer lunch. The first time she did, I attempted to decline the offer. "Why wouldn't you eat? This is not how it's done. Jo bhi bacha aata hai, who khaake jaata hai," (“every child who comes here eats before leaving."), she chided. It was at her home that I truly saw how she balanced her many roles—that of a Judge of the High Court, of a wife, and a mother. What surprised and delighted me the most was her relationship with her dog, Veer. He would stand patiently at the office door, simply staring, waiting for her to come out and pet him. At first, she would tell him to go away—gently, then a little more firmly. But no matter how stern her words, love always seeped into her voice. And then, just like that, we would return to work.

In court, whenever the litigants happened to appear in person, she would make it a point to hear their matters, even prioritising them on several occasions. Her compassion, however, shone the fiercest in moments she felt injustice was being done. In a particular matter titled 'GNCTD v. Rehmat Fatima',^[1] the Delhi Government had challenged an order passed by a Single Judge of the High Court, granting maternity benefits under the Maternity Benefit Act, 1961 to a young woman who had served in the Delhi State Consumer Forum for over five years on contractual basis. Justice Palli, never being one to mince words, reminded the State Government of their public commitment—published in newspapers just a few days before---of granting 'Rs 1,000 per month' to adult women in Delhi and inquired whether this is how it is going to be---are they really going to take away statutory benefits from one hand while making promises with the other?

Such moments were not rare in her Court. While her 'I am not sir' exchange with a counsel is much known, there are many other instances where she challenged outdated norms. Much to the delight of us LRs—three of us being women—she once lightheartedly remarked in open court that she wouldn't mind having an all-female staff.

They say that the best mentors teach not by lecturing but by letting you watch how they do it. It was in Justice Rekha Palli's court that I felt the true import of these words. Fresh out of my master's program, I was accustomed to reading lengthy research papers and writing even lengthier sentences. She noticed this immediately and said, "keep it short, simple, and precise. A judgment should never confuse its reader." Her brevity is something everyone tries to emulate but few can truly replicate. Even when she was correcting orders, she would ask all of us LRs to stay close and observe the changes being made so as to ensure that we understood the reasoning behind them. With every roster change, she would try to make us LRs understand the law relating to the matters she was dealing with—one time even explaining to us the hierarchy of officers in the Armed Forces.

She would also encourage us to accompany her on the many events she went to–from conferences to speeches— hoping that her LRs would gain as much exposure to the legal world as possible. (Once, on the morning of an arbitration conference, she called me, asking why I wasn't coming along.) Yet, no matter how late these events ended, she would always return home and read peshis for the next day, sometimes working until 1:00 a.m.

One particularly unforgettable day during the course of my tenure as an LR was 30th May, 2024, At roughly about 8:00 p.m. on the evening of the previous day, we were informed that nearly 100 cases were listed for the next day. Since on the 30th, the Court was to sit till only about 12.30 p.m., we were all certain that no more than 40, perhaps 50 cases could realistically be heard. The next morning, Ma'am arrived and simply said, "main saare matters sunungi." (I'll hear all the matters). We still didn't believe it was possible. Cut to 11:45 a.m., when the board had already crossed 70 cases, we understood belatedly that Justice Palli intended to do exactly what she said. By 12:30 p.m, the Court had heard and dictated orders in over 90 matters. As she rose, she expressed her deep regret that the last 4-5 matters could not be reached and, thus, needed to be adjourned. A Senior Advocate present in the court, unable to hide his astonishment, remarked, “how her Ladyship knew the facts of every single one of those 90 cases.”

I will never forget that day. Practically every advocate present in the court had assumed that their case(s) would be adjourned until July, post the Court's vacation. However, when an advocate attempted to seek an adjournment on the pretext of paucity of time, Justice Palli firmly responded, “this cannot be an excuse for us to shy away from our judicial duty." Such was Ma'am's work ethic. Everyone—from the Court Staff to the Counsel—knew that if a matter was listed before her, it would be heard effectively.

Justice Rekha Palli also made it a point to encourage young and junior counsel to come prepared with their briefs and argue their case before the Court. When a junior counsel came well prepared with their brief, she asked their name and complimented them for their efforts. The burst of pride on their faces after receiving such appreciation was unmissable. The younger lot also benefited from the deep command she wielded over service law as Ma'am understood their point easily, and even helped them frame their arguments better. But for counsels who planned to buy some time, and resorted to beating around the bush—she would foil their plans by getting straight to the meat of the matter and force them to answer her questions. Moreover, she was always up to date with the recent happenings in the legal world and would sometimes gently nudge the counsel in the right direction. Even whilst dictating orders in her chamber, whenever her phone would buzz with a news notification, Ma'am would promptly check any news notification on her phone, keeping track of not just Supreme Court and Delhi High Court rulings but also those from other High Courts.

With just a few weeks to go before her retirement, we, i.e., the LRs and the Court staff expected her to slow down a little and to take a breather. Oh, how wrong we were! There was no let up in the pace and intensity of the work. In fact, there may have been greater urgency into the last few weeks as Ma'am wished to hear and dispose of more and more matters before she retired. As usual, any matter that came before Justice Palli would be dealt with justly and decisively. Procrastination or citing retirement as an excuse to defer work simply wasn't in her nature. More than her, I sometimes felt that it were the counsel who dreaded her retirement, scrambling to request shorter dates.

Before she demitted office, I had the opportunity of assisting her in a 5 Judge Bench judgment titled Saif Ali v. State of NCT of Delhi,^[2] authored by her. She worked tirelessly on it, even during the December vacations. While everyone wondered how the guidelines laid down by the Full Bench in Karan v. State of NCT of Delhi ^[3] could be modified so as to simplify the procedure of granting victim compensation, Justice Palli identified a more fundamental issue–where, in the first instance, such guidelines could have been issued by the Court under the exercise of supervisory jurisdiction under Article 227 of the Constitution of India. In the judgment, she adopted a balanced approach—acknowledging the rights of the accused against self-incrimination and to a speedy trial whilst upholding the victim's right to get compensation under Section 357 of the CrPC.

Even when she had just become a grandmother, she continued dispensing her duties with the utmost dedication, often juggling between home and work, never neglecting either. Justice Palli was not only deeply engaged in judicial work but also actively fulfilled her administrative responsibilities. As a member—and often the chairperson—of several committees, she continued discharging her duties on the administrative side right up till the date of her retirement.

Working with Justice Rekha Palli has been rewarding---an honor unparalleled, for which I would forever thank my stars. Her time on the bench may be over, but the enduring legacy she created, one that deeply affected the legal world and those fortunate enough to learn from her, remains. This account, therefore, besides being a recollection of my experience as an LR is also an expression of gratitude for Justice Palli.

The author is a Delhi based Lawyer, Views are personal.