By: Courtney Marie Skiles

April 4, 2014

I rode next to IBJ India Duty Lawyer Shiv Kumar Dwivedi on the Delhi Bar Association bus that travels between the city’s courthouses.  Shiv, who was lost in thought, had agreed to take me along to court with him.  Between explanations about how a client could file a bail application and be released from pre-trial detention, Shiv would get quiet for long periods. Are you thinking about your case? I asked.  Yes! he laughed.  After nearly an hour of travel, we arrived at the Tis Hazari courthouse, and Shiv walked quickly up three flights of stairs and down a long, crowded hallway to the courtroom where he was to represent Manoj, his client, in a bail hearing.  Manoj was coming from prison, and had not yet arrived.  Shiv also discovered that the judge who was supposed to preside over the hearing was absent, so he would have to argue in front of an emergency replacement judge.

Shiv is a lawyer, originally from Nagpur.  He has been practicing law for a year and a half, and joined IBJ as a Duty Lawyer in May.  His role as a Duty Lawyer is to hold a clinic in a Delhi prison, where he distributes information to detainees who would like to know more about their cases, and takes on cases where the detainees have the opportunity to file a bail application.  In one visit, sometimes 40 to 50 people want to talk with him; he has time to meet with between 20 to 30 people.  His first meeting with Manoj lasted about 15 minutes, because there was a long line of other incarcerated men waiting.

Shiv suggested that I observe another proceeding while we waited.  I went downstairs to courtroom 122, the court of MM Ranjeesh Kumar Gupta, who handles cases regarding juveniles.  There, I befriended a prosecutor named Neeti, and explained to her that I was with IBJ India, an organization that works to advocate for the rights of accused persons.  That did not seem to offend her; she introduced me to the judge who was hearing the case, and explained the proceedings I was about to witness.  A woman, who kept adjusting her sari and shifting from foot to foot, began to give testimony in the front of the courtroom about the sexual assault of her 7-year-old daughter.  The accused man was in the back of the room, with a corrections officer, while his lawyer was in the front of the room.  The lawyer did not appear to cross examine the witness.  I sat down with Neeti after the case, and we shared a snack of pakora and daal.

I found Shiv again, who was still waiting for Manoj; he had not arrived from jail.  Shiv had just started to relax, saying that we would break for lunch while we waited, when we saw a line of corrections officers holding hands with several detainees walking down the hallway toward us.  Shiv forgot about lunch, and walked brisquely toward Manoj.

Manoj had tired eyes, like he had not slept much in the three months since he was incarcerated. Manoj was a day laborer who had gotten into a fight with a co-worker.  The co-worker ended up with blood on his neck, and filed a complaint accusing Manoj of attempted murder.  Manoj was arrested in January under Section 307 of the Indian Penal Code for attempted murder, while the coworker was not prosecuted for any part in the fight.  Manoj is originally from Uttar Pradesh, or the “UP” as everyone here calls it.  He came to Delhi so he could send money back to his 70-year-old parents.  Once he was arrested, he had no more income, his parents were left without money, and Manoj had no one in Delhi to help him.

The courtroom was busy.  I stood in the back, as Shiv and Manoj wove through the crowded room to the bench where the judge stood.  Shiv gave the case information and began to argue in favor of the bail application’s grant, but the judge stopped him.  Because the crime—attempted murder– is a higher level of seriousness, the judge transferred the case to the Session Court judge.  The Session Court has jurisdiction over more serious offenses with longer sentences involved.

Later I had tea with Shiv at the courthouse’s tiffin room, and we discussed Manoj some more.  His family did not come, Shiv pointed out.  So many [incarcerated men] have no family here [in Delhi], Shiv said.  They come here as laborers to build homes and send their money back to their families in other regions.  He explained that many people cannot engage with a good lawyer when they are arrested.  Many represent themselves, but many of them are illiterate and do not know their rights.  The accused person merely stands in the courtroom, receives the date of their trial from the judge, and then goes back to an overcrowded jail to wait for his trial to begin—months or sometimes a year or more.  They often cannot communicate with their families from jail and their families often cannot afford to make an expensive trip to visit—if they even know their loved one is in jail.

So, Shiv said, most people have no family, and no lawyer.  It is clear that this is why Shiv goes to court nearly every day to fight for people such as Manoj, and to give him some hope.

Profile of Courtney Marie Skiles — Legal Intern

Courtney is a new lawyer in the United States, and recent graduate of the University of Washington School of Law.  Her interest in international prison reform and human rights, and her involvement with the Innocence Project Northwest’s legislative adovocacy team in Seattle led her to IBJ India’s work, after she temporarily relocated to New Delhi with her partner.  She enjoys legal research, writing, learning about India’s justice system, and visiting court with IBJ India lawyers.  She will begin a judicial clerkship in Seattle in August 2014.