In a deeply reflective and emotionally charged address at the Bombay High Court on July 5, Chief Justice of India Bhushan Ramkrishna Gavai reminded the nation—and more importantly, the judiciary—of the solemn responsibility that comes with interpreting the Constitution. At a felicitation ceremony held in his honour, CJI Gavai didn’t just speak as the head of the Indian judiciary; he spoke as a custodian of justice, conscience, and compassion.
His message was clear, yet profound: law must not live in isolation from the realities of society. It must evolve, adapt, and serve—always serve—the people it seeks to protect.
THE LIVING CONSTITUTION: NOT A FROZEN TEXT
“The interpretation of the Constitution must be pragmatic,” Justice Gavai said, echoing the sentiments of great constitutional thinkers before him. “It must be tailored to address the challenges and needs of contemporary society.”
Those words carried more than just judicial wisdom; they had a call to action. In an era where social inequalities, digital freedoms, climate crises, and civil liberties all compete for legal clarity, Gavai’s assertion underlined the need for a living, breathing judiciary—one that listens and evolves.
Quoting an earlier landmark Supreme Court judgement, he emphasized that laws are not static monuments; they are organic frameworks. “Any law or the Constitution has to be interpreted in the context of problems faced by the present generation,” he noted, his voice steady but impassioned.
This wasn’t just a legal observation; it was an emotional appeal to judges, lawmakers, and citizens, inviting them to share in the collective responsibility for justice.
BEHIND THE BENCH: A HUMAN HEART
At the heart of his speech lay something even more moving: the reminder that judges are not mere arbiters of cold, complex statutes—they are human beings. Bound by oath, yes. Guided by law, absolutely, but also driven by conscience.
“A judge must act according to his conscience and his oath,” he reflected. “But once the matter is decided, he should never be perturbed. He should mentally detach from the outcome.”
That moment felt almost like a confession. It revealed the emotional toll of wearing the robe—the weight of decisions that can change lives, destinies, even nations.
And yet, Gavai urged fellow judges to rise above personal entanglements, to find peace in having done their duty with honesty, clarity, and compassion.
A GENTLE BUT FIRM REBUKE
But the address wasn’t without its share of concern. In what seemed like a restrained but firm criticism, the Chief Justice spoke about recent grievances that had reached his ears—complaints about the rude and discourteous behaviour of particular judges.
His tone shifted, not in anger, but in disappointment. “I’ve been receiving a lot of complaints about the rude behaviour of some colleagues,” he admitted.
He didn’t name names. He didn’t raise his voice. But the message pierced the room like a sharp breeze in a courtroom’s still air.
“Please,” he pleaded gently, “do not do anything which brings disrepute to this august institution, whose reputation has been so laboriously built over generations.”
The Bombay High Court, where Gavai himself once practiced law and later served as a judge, stood as a testament to such devotion. “I feel proud when I hear praise for the judgments passed here,” he added with evident pride and nostalgia.
NOT A JOB, BUT A CALLING
“There is no such thing as a 10-to-5 judge,” Gavai reminded. “Being a judge is not a job—it is an opportunity. A chance to serve society. A responsibility to serve the nation.”
He reframed the robe not as a symbol of authority, but as a garb of service. It was a call to humility, to grace, and above all, to humanity, inspiring the audience to uphold these values in their legal practice.
INDEPENDENCE OF THE JUDICIARY: A NON-NEGOTIABLE PROMISE
Another decisive moment arose when the Chief Justice addressed the appointment of judges—a topic that has long been at the centre of political and public debate.
“At no cost will the independence of the judiciary be compromised,” he affirmed, firmly and clearly.
He elaborated on the collegium system, reiterating that it ensures not only merit but also inclusivity and diversity in judicial appointments—elements that are not only desirable but also necessary in a country as diverse as India.
Whether it’s caste, gender, region, or socio-economic background, the CJI seemed determined to make the judiciary a mirror of the society it serves. Because in his words—and more importantly, in his tone—it was clear: representation isn’t a favour. It’s a duty.
THE LARGER MESSAGE: BUILDING TRUST THROUGH COMPASSION
If there was one emotion that ran like a current beneath all CJI Gavai’s statements, it was care. Care for the institution. Care for the citizens. Care for the future of Indian democracy.
“A judge must act according to his conscience and his oath. But once the matter is decided, he should never be perturbed. He should mentally detach from the outcome.”
He didn’t just speak to fellow judges. He talked to every citizen who has ever stood before a court seeking justice. He said to law students, hoping to one day change the world. He spoke to the silent architects of justice, the court clerks, the junior counsels, the overworked interns. And most of all, he said to the soul of the judiciary.
The legal world often prides itself on being dispassionate and rational. But in Gavai’s words, there was something richer, something rarer: emotional intelligence. He didn’t sacrifice structure for sentiment. Instead, he balanced the weight of the law with the warmth of wisdom.
LEGACY AND THE LONG VIEW
Towards the end of his speech, as applause filled the chamber, it became clear that Chief Justice Gavai wasn’t just marking a personal milestone. He was shaping a collective vision.
His journey—from the corridors of the Bombay High Court to the pinnacle of the Indian judiciary—had come full circle. But instead of basking in glory, he used the moment to build bridges for those who would follow.
“We are only temporary custodians,” he seemed to say between the lines. “But our actions will echo long after we are gone.”
WHEN JUSTICE WEARS A HUMAN FACE
In a time when institutions across the world are grappling with credibility crises, polarization, and public distrust, Chief Justice Gavai’s words offered something rare: reassurance. He didn’t promise perfection. But he promised honesty. He didn’t provide miracles. But he extended empathy. And most of all, he didn’t speak from a pedestal. He spoke from the heart.
In doing so, he reminded the nation—and perhaps even the judiciary itself—that justice, at its best, is not just a process. It is a promise. A promise to listen. A promise to evolve. A promise to serve. And when that promise is kept, the Constitution doesn’t just sit in a book—it lives in the lives of people.
