Ashok Desai was one of the country’s most highly regarded and much-loved lawyers. He held the offices of Solicitor-General and Attorney General, and was later called upon to advise Presidents and Prime Ministers. He appeared in major constitutional, tax and company matters of the times.
Mr. Desai was at the forefront of the fight for civil liberties and public causes. Among the earliest PILs was the Bombay Backbay reclamation scam and the allotment of cement by A.R. Antulay, Chief Minister of Maharashtra. One wonders how public interest would have taken root if it had not been for leaders of the Bar like him to espouse these causes. Over the years, he continued to appear in PILs. Among these were the fodder scam involving Lalu Prasad and the arming of private militia Salwa Judum by the State of Chhattisgarh. There are many such cases but that would take up several columns.
I have seen few lawyers prepare for their case as well as him. He listened carefully to the instructing lawyer and pored over his briefs to achieve mastery over facts. Assessing the judge he was to appear before was part of the preparation. In court, he brought in a larger perspective and a focus which went far beyond what the instructing lawyer had presented to him. Appearing with him, you would think you knew all there was to know and could be said in the case, and yet watch in admiration as he gave it a further dimension. He was indeed a lawyer par excellence.
Convincing the Lordship
Each great lawyer has a distinctive style. Mr. Desai was sweet reasonableness, having a mellifluous voice and low-pitched presentation, never taking or giving offence. He had this knack of turning the judge around. His Lordship would express strong disagreement with the proposition, and Mr. Desai would bring on his special skills, and sure enough the judge would be lulled not just in accepting the proposition but sometimes also treating it as his own.
Mr. Desai was a genius in the art of living. With his deep and abiding faith in Buddhism, he had cultivated the quality of equanimity and a perfectly drawn line of detachment. There was an inner core which would not be ruffled at all. For sage advice, you could do no better than to go to him. He would give you clear and unclouded advice, tell you where you went wrong, and then would come the remedy and balm. I think in all things he managed to hold the balance even.
He was the ever-welcoming host. “Come along in the evening but don’t make it late,” was the standard invitation and injunction. Those evenings with him are among the best memories of my life. Often we would be joined by his graceful wife Suvarnabehn. Warmth, wit and wisdom flowed from him. He never put his erudition on display but you couldn’t miss it. He was amazingly well read in literature, history and politics among other fields; he enjoyed music, both Hindustani and Western classical, and the opera. Yoga he would do regularly, and in his later years saw to it that he never missed the daily swim. One must be religious about it, he would say. He was perhaps overpitching the point, but achieved the desired result.
He could hold strong opinions, but avoided harshness in language. “I think he is an undesirable element,” was sufficient to indicate disapproval. The man’s nature and spiritualism made him forgiving of human frailty, instead looking to see where it could be mended and improved. He was deeply concerned about the grim realities in the country’s politics, economic and social fabric; he yet never gave up hope of change and improvement. I once asked him if his optimism was misplaced. His answer stunned me. “Sriram, optimism is not an option; it is a duty.”
Sriram Panchu is a senior advocate at the Madras High Court
