A legendary lawyer, a valued mentor, a loyal friend, a bon vivant and above all else, a good and gentle human being. The passing of Ashok Desai in Mumbai on April 13 leaves a void in the lives of many. For me, the loss is very personal – I had the good fortune of working as a junior in his chambers in New Delhi from 1998 to 2003.
The Bombay Bar of the 1950s and 60s produced a virtual galaxy of stars who shone bright both there and at the Supreme Court in Delhi. Desai was one of those stars, along with Fali Nariman, Soli Sorabjee, Anil Divan and Tehmtan Andhyarujina (to name just a few).
Desai was born on December 18, 1932. His father Haribhai was a criminal lawyer with substantial practice. After finishing school in Mumbai, Ashokbhai graduated from the prestigious Fergusson College in Pune and received the LLB degree from the Government Law College in Bombay. His education thereafter took him to England, where he pursued a degree in economics at the London School of Economics and was called to the English Bar from Lincoln’s Inn, both in 1956.
The first phase of Ashokbhai’s professional life was spent in Bombay. He started practice at the high court in 1956, in the chambers of S.V. Gupte. Ashokbhai’s practice straddled the gamut of commercial cases (he was regarded in particular as an authority on competition law), criminal cases and constitutional/administrative law disputes. Celebrated amongst the cases he argued in those years were a challenge to the pre-censorship on the grounds of obscenity of Vijay Tendulkar’s play Sakharam Binder, and the public interest litigation which led to the downfall of chief minister A.R. Antulay on the grounds of corruption. He earned a reputation as a fierce defender of civil liberties and a prominent proponent of Constitutional values, whilst also becoming a much sought after commercial lawyer. He taught both at the Government Law College and the Bombay College of Journalism, and was the legal correspondent for the Times of India. The Bombay high court designated Ashokbhai as a senior advocate on August 8, 1977.
He moved to Delhi in 1989 as the solicitor general in the V.P. Singh government. He was part of a star-studded team of law officers, which was headed by Sorabjee, and included Santosh Hegde (later a judge of the Supreme Court), Arun Jaitley, Kapil Sibal and Prashant Goswami. The government did not last long, and Ashokbhai went back to private practice in December 1990. He was appointed attorney general for India on July 9, 1996, and remained in office until May 6, 1998, through the governments of Deve Gowda and I.K. Gujral.
During these three decades in Delhi, Ashokbhai was the “go-to” senior counsel for the aggrieved citizen, celebrated corporate clients, and public authorities alike. He was consulted by presidents and prime ministers (regardless of political colour), by professors and journalists, by traders and trade unions. His caseload continued to be varied – including the Narasimha Rao case involving parliamentary privilege, the Narmada dam case, and a challenge to the Salwa Judum established by the Chhattisgarh government.
Ashok Desai. Photo: File
But Ashokbhai’s life was larger than the law. He was a person of eclectic interests and of a commitment that traversed several fields of public activity. He was a connoisseur of classical music and dance – many a briefing was made much more enjoyable with Hindustani or western classical music playing in the background. He read voraciously – from esoteric points of law to historical texts, from Sanskrit plays to philosophical treatises (Buddhist philosophy particularly appealed to him), from Hillary Mantel to the latest mystery novel.
Ashokbhai’s company was always a delight, his conversation varied and enlightening. His knowledge and his opinions would be shared unhesitatingly, but with gentleness of manner and complete openness to a contrary view. His love of music, of literature, of good food and stimulating conversation was evident. He engaged himself deeply in a variety of interests. Unlike many high achievers, Ashokbhai was not keen only to share his own views and experiences, but to hear from the others in the room. He would elicit information and opinions from the great and the good who populated his life, and just as enthusiastically from the youngest person in the room, sitting shyly in the corner. He was a person of immense intellectual curiosity and a desire to remain contemporary in his skills and his interests.
He was fascinated by every new technology. (In his later years, his iPad was his constant companion – which he used to access his books, his music, his films.) These qualities earned him a scintillating array of friends – including artists, writers, journalists, social scientists, civil servants and of course, a few lawyers as well. His wife Suvernaben (herself an accomplished Manipuri dancer) and he would host intimate sit-down dinners in their home several evenings a month – animated evenings of meaningful conversations and a repast fit for royalty.
For me, the association of two decades and more was both professional and personal. He quickly became not just the senior with whom I worked, but a shoulder to lean on whenever the need arose. He was a guide, a sounding board, and his life was a model to be followed.
To my mind, Ashokbhai embodied the concept of mentorship. He led by example. He worked hard and expected the same of us. He did not value a unidimensional life of work alone and did not expect his juniors to either. His style was not hectoring or lecturing, but gentle and accommodating. Everyone’s views would be heard – the client, the established lawyers assisting him, and the raw juniors present at the briefing, who least expected it. A strong argument from any source would be acknowledged and appreciated, a weak one gently discarded. I remember one occasion when I suggested a point which met the latter fate, only to find the judge taking the same view the next day in court. Ashokbhai developed the point successfully, but not before turning to me and whispering with a straight face, “Fit for elevation, eh?”
Even on the eve of an important hearing, or while preparing a complex point, there was rarely a raised voice or a moment of stress. His wit and good humour came to the rescue and relieved both him and us. A clueless briefing advocate would be praised (behind his back) for his detachment from the result of the case, for treating success and failure just the same. The most unhelpful facts of a case – an ill-advised letter, a much-inflated claim – were accepted with equanimity, with the resigned statement that “we must fight with the tools we have”.
Of course, there were things which irked Ashokbhai – a file missing when he wanted it, a book in the wrong place, a note printed on anything but his favoured yellow memo paper, an absent stenographer – but these were largely momentary irritations, and easily remedied. He encouraged his juniors to build their own practices and revelled in their success. Many of those who worked with Ashokbhai remain close to him and Suvernaben even today – they enveloped us in their affection and warmth, made us part of their family, and became part of ours.
Ashokbhai taught us simply by the example he set. For that, we shall always remember him with profound gratitude and respect. I feel utterly blessed to count myself amongst his pupils.
Prateek Jalan is a judge of the Delhi high court.