Ready before you rise in court

I learnt the hard way

I was called to the bar at the Inner Temple in 1891. I returned to Bombay eager and afraid. In my first case I could not speak. I sat down and returned the fee. That failure still burns me. It also saved me. It taught me that courage in court is not a gift. It is the fruit of preparation. When I do not prepare, I tremble. When I prepare, I serve.

Reading the file until it speaks

Before a hearing I read the brief again and again. Not to decorate it with words, but to strip it down to truth. I ask simple questions.

• What is the narrow relief I must secure today?
• Which 3 facts carry that relief?
• Where, in the record, do those facts live?

I make a one-page sheet. On it I write the timeline, the issues for that day, and exact page numbers. I link every assertion to a document or to a line in an affidavit or deposition. If I cannot find support, I mark the gap honestly. Many days the best work is to cure that gap before I ever open my mouth.

Do not be lazy with names and dates. Check spellings, totals, survey numbers, invoice numbers, exhibit marks. One wrong digit in a cause title can be an hour lost. Read the prayer as if you were granting it. Is it workable? Is it too broad? A modest prayer is easier to win and to enforce.

When I first went to South Africa in 1893 to act on a commercial brief for Dada Abdulla, I learnt that a paper can be thick and still empty. A thin paper, if exact, is enough. Read for what matters. Remove what does not.

Living inside the record

A judge reads faster than we speak. Help the court. Build a map.

• Keep a clean index of documents with page numbers.
• Mark admissions by the other side. They are gold. Speak to them first.
• Note contradictions in your own case. Do not hide them. Prepare a straight answer.

On paper, use coloured slips. On a phone, use bookmarks. Whatever the tool, the habit is the same: open the right page at once. I practised this until I could close my eyes and point to the place. The record is not a pile. It is a path. Walk it the same way every time.

After each reading, I test myself. Can I state the case in 6 sentences, each with a page number? If not, I have more work to do. Write margins notes in verbs, not adjectives: admit, deny, prove, serve, pay. Verbs make you act.

Thinking like the bench

Every bench has its first questions. They are often about order, not drama. If you expect them, you do not stumble.

• Jurisdiction. Why is this court the right place?
• Limitation. Are you in time?
• Maintainability. Is the procedure proper? Is the affidavit in order? Is authority to sign proved?
• Service. Has the other side been fairly heard? What notice did you give?
• Evidence. Where is the document? Who proved it? Is it admissible today or later?

I prepare short answers to each. I also prepare to concede what is weak. A small, honest concession in the beginning brings trust. With trust, the bench listens longer.

Before I rise, I write a 3‑point opening on a slip. I practise saying it aloud. Plain words. No ornaments. I plan a route through the file with exact page turns. I keep spare copies of key pages ready for the court and the other side. If I ask for an interim order, I offer a workable draft and a fair balance. The court does not only decide rights; it manages time and peace. Help it do both.

Truth as the best preparation

In South Africa I lived and worked for 21 years. There I learnt that a lawyer’s highest work is to bring parties together. I refused cases I believed false. I kept my fees modest. I insisted on complete truthfulness before the court. This was not piety. It was practical. Truth reduces the load on the memory. You need not remember what you did not say.

When you prepare, cut away the part of your case that is not true, not proved, or not necessary. Do it before the bench does it for you. If the fair path is a settlement, say so. A narrow, just compromise is often a larger victory than a noisy order. Your client sleeps better. So do you.

A small routine for the day of hearing

• The night before: write your first sentence. Pack your 3 points, your timeline, and your top 5 page references. Place them on the top of the brief, or pin them on your phone.
• On the way: breathe and slow down. Say your opening once in the language you will use. If it is Hindi or Gujarati, practise in that tongue. Simplicity travels best.
• At the bar table: open the brief at the first page you will show. Keep the next two pages clipped. Offer the other side a copy without fuss. Tell the court what you seek today and how you will take it to the record.
• While the bench questions: listen fully. Answer what is asked, with a page number. If you do not know, say you do not, and ask for a short time to check. Do not argue with the fact. Find it.
• After the hearing: write a 5‑line note of what happened, the order made, and the next date. Send it to your client. File your slips back in order. Spend 10 minutes to improve your index while the memory is fresh.

I began as a timid lawyer. I remained an imperfect one. But I learnt this: when your file is in order, your mind is in order. Then the hearing is not a battle. It is honest work done together.