# Gujarát and the Gujarátis/Scenes in a Small Cause Court

SCENES IN A SMALL CAUSE COURT.
Swearing and All.
Having described the Pleader or Va'quil, I might as well record here some trying personal experiences in the Court of Small Causes—experiences which more than confirm the popular belief as to the "glorious uncertainty of law," and which may be of use to some unwary simpleton like myself.
I once perpetrated a book. It was a wonderful book that, no two critics agreeing as to its merits; but it brought in a good deal of money, a good deal of praise, and vast deal of abuse. Amongst the many other things this wondrous book of mine brought me was a Small Cause Court summons. The poets sing of "death and doom." I had a very vivid idea of these ​unwelcome twins when the summons was put into my hands. I went about my business with the poor kneesknocking together ;and, though friends assured me that I had nothing to be down in the mouth for, I felt a vague foreboding of the goods and chattels at home being sold by auction, and myself being sent to jail for at least six months. In those moments of trouble I did not think well of my poor book. Why would it be written by me, the unlucky thing? It was all the book's doing. The suit was for recovery of Rs. 200, or something like 60 per cent, of the value of copies sold, for their delivery in town and such other services. I have paid more handsomely for still lighter services, but could not do so this time. It was not a question of will, but of power. I and my friends proposed all manner of compromises, but the man was obdurate. He had made up his mind to milk his cow dry. He had retained the services of a Vakeel, and nothing less than Rs. 200 and counsel's fee would satisfy him. In a word, there was nothing for it but to go to Court and contest the claim. So one fine day off I go to Court with a number of friends and followers. At first it felt as if one were going to his own funeral. We paused at the ​door of the Court, and, looking round to see if the eye of the public was on us, we rushed in breathless with suppressed excitement. Inside we were besieged by a number of daláls offering their services. I had no occasion for such services, as my friends said there was an excellent Vakeel to plead the cause. But the case was to come on late in the day; and as the feeling of horror subsided by degrees, I allowed myself to be taken to various parts of the court-house just to divert my thoughts. At every step almost we encountered a knot of Márwáris engaged in hasty but animated conversation with the harpy of a dalál. These, we were told, were concocting a story to ruin some poor debtor. False documents, false witness, and perjury were here gone through in open daylight, and almost in the presence of the judge. The Márwári seldom gets a Vakeel to conduct his case. Between himself and the Mooktiár they can hoodwink justice quite successfully.
Summary Suits.
From here we moved on to the court of the last judge, a native gentleman. His Honour had just then a case before him. A house-owner ​was asking for the removal of his tenant, a poor Portuguese. The Bible was given and the oath mumbled. Then asked His Honour of the defendant:
"How many months?"
Seven months, Sir," replied poor Caitan.
"How many rupees a month?" asked His Honour again.
"Five rupees, Sir," replied Caitan.
"Decree for Rs. 35, with costs, time up to the first," drawled His Honour turning to the clerk.
"Call next case," continued the Judge, asking for another case to be decided.
"But, Sor, me paid two months rent reg'larly," whined Caitan.
"Appeal to Full Court," drawled His Honour, turning condescendingly to the man.
This was a "summary suit," we were told by our guide. It was. We waited for two other cases. We saw a good deal of swearing by the Book, and a good deal of audacious and easily-detected lying gone through in rapid succession.
​But except for the Judge's frown, we noticed no other punishment for false witness. All this was far from reassuring to me, and I once more requested friends to compromise with my persecutor, as the case would be soon coming on. Negotiations were opened, but now the pleader on the other side told my friends he "could not conscientiously advise his clients to withdraw." We saw we had to take our chance; but there was some hope in the judge before whom we were presently to stand, being reputed a patient and impartial man.
We entered the room, and on our pleader asking the interpreter where His Honour was, that pompous functionary declared, "The Court have gone to drink." There was no time to laugh over this interpreter's joke, for the "Court," alleged to have been in such undignified occupation, had already returned. The Judge fell to business as naturally as the child falls to its dinner of sugared milk. The complainant, my persecutor, was administered the oath. He promised by the life of every one of his 330,000,000 gods to tell the truth, "and nothing but truth." The Judge asked the interpreter if the complainant had been sworn. "Swored, your ​Honour," vociferated that obliging official. Then the complainant was asked to say what he had done for the defendant to earn Rs. 200. Hereupon, the man who had just a minute ago solemnly pledged himself to truth,gave utterance to a number of lies appalling in their magnitude. I and my friends were astounded. Complainant deposed to having witnesses to corroborate the statement that he had done enough to earn Rs. 200 on sale of the books worth Rs. 600.
His Vakeel looked triumphant, mine was quite crestfallen. I was shivering as if with the ague, and a young friend actually burst into violent gesticulations at the man perjuring himself with such malignity of purpose. The Judge then asked for a few particulars. Among these the complainant, unfortunately for himself, stated that he had procured for the ungrateful defendant a loan of Rs. 100, at 36 per cent, per annum.
"Is this to be one of the services entitled to a honorarium of Rs. 200, Mr. ————?" asked the Judge, turning with benevolent surprise upon the plaintiff's pleader.
The game was lost. Client and counsel looked extremely foolish. Every remark they hazarded after this miscarried. Witnesses for the plaintiff ​were at last called. Like true men of the world, these Aryan gentlemen had already vanished! Taking their cue from the turn affairs had taken, all of them had bolted except one, and this man in his evidence damaged the complainant's case, whispering to him after every pause, "I told you I would tell the truth; I have to face my Maker." The Judge having done taking his notes, the complainant's counsel opened his speech. This Aryan orator began somewhat in this strain:—
"Although my client is confounded here and there, I have reason to believe that he is an honest man; also elderly. The defendant is a mere lad who owes much to my client. He more than once offered to compromise. Why, if his conscience did not prick him? Having made these general observations, I now leave the matter with your Honour, only remarking in the end that my client has a large family," &c. &c.
The defending counsel, knowing full well that in certain cases silence is golden, merely said, "I can do no better than leave the case entirely to your Honour."
The Judge awarded the plaintiff something like Rs. 30, which, seeing that he had promised a ​much larger sum to the pleader who had picked up his case, was a sore disappointment. The Judge passed severe strictures on the complainant's conduct, and his judgment was received with delight by all save two in the room.
But I have not looked upon the issue of the case as a success. What I suffered that day in mind I have not yet forgotten. Even in the hour of triumph I wished I had never gone to Court. What a ruin I had so narrowly escaped! But for the Judge having been patient and considerate, for his having that day assumed the double rôle of judge and counsel, it is impossible to tell where I would have been. And though the dark visions of bankruptcy and jail were the offspring of my morbid imagination, there is no doubt that, with a hasty and inexperienced judge, I would not have been able to clear myself of the many charges foisted upon me by the baffled fiend. Since then, in the plenitude of my experience, I have warned all from going to Court. Suffer any amount of reasonable inconvenience, but do not rush into courts of law. You can never be sure of what may happen. Courts of law are a luxury for the well-to-do, and the nothing-to-do, so to call them. Audacious lying ​and deliberate perjury often get the better of truth. Where there are men ready to swear away your reputation, your best course is to avoid coming in contact with them. Pay any small sum if you chance to stumble upon such persons, but go not to courts of law, especially with a summary suit, where perjury has the greatest chance of success.