The other day I visited the office of a senior Chartered Accountant (hereinafter ‘the senior’) unannounced after a long time. He is indeed very ‘senior’, not less than 80, but still in practice. Age is just a number for him; he is both energetic and active. Before I entered the chamber, his driver Jaya told me, ‘Sir is about to begin a virtual hearing’. But as soon as I knocked on the door, I heard him shout, ‘Get out, Tommy!’
Tommy, for your information, is his pet dog. The senior operates from his four-bedroom flat, with the hall converted into his office. And believe me, Tommy ran out as soon as I opened the door, brushing against my leg. I was caught unawares and got scared. The senior was scanning the papers littered on his table, maybe making last-minute preparations. As he heard the sound of my footsteps, he looked up, squinted at me and hurriedly waved to me to sit down. I slowly lowered myself into the chair in front of him.
‘Herambh, you! What a pleasure!’ he greeted me, as if he had been waiting for me.
‘Sir, just a courtesy call, nothing more.’
‘Herambh, you know, today is the first-ever virtual hearing of my life,’ he stated.
‘Sir, Jaya told me that when I was entering your cabin,’ I said.
‘Jaya told you? Okay, no problem.’ But the senior seemed to be nervous, his nervousness conspicuous on his face. I thought it would be better to leave.
‘Sir, I could come some other day,’ I said politely.
‘No, no, Herambh, I have no problem, you stay till the end of the hearing; look, I am not computer-savvy and this new technology, internet blah blah… you would be a great help to me,’ he said.
‘I can understand your concern, Sir, when I began to learn computers long back, I was afraid of pressing a button on the keyboard thinking something would go wrong!’
‘Are you scaring me, Herambh?’ he asked.
‘No, Sir, not at all! I was just telling you my experience from my initial days,’ I hastily clarified.
‘Look, I have learnt the ABC of computers from my grandsons Bunty and Babli who are in the 7th and 8th standards; very smart chaps. Let me call them.’ The senior got up, went to the balcony and shouted ‘Bunty-Babli, come up immediately!’
Bunty and Babli replied in chorus ‘Yes, Grandpa, coming! Last ball!’
After a while the door behind me cracked open and Bunty with a bat and Babli with the ball, both with cricket caps on their heads, entered the hall-turned-office.
‘Relax, Bunty-Babli, relax! Sit by my side, drink a glass of water.’ I observed that two chairs were arranged for Bunty and Babli on either side of the senior’s chair. They settled down and wiped their faces that were full of sweat and dust. The senior was looking at them with great pride and hope [hope, maybe, for a successful hearing]. Then he brought out two medium-size chocolate bars from a drawer and gave these to them. I was watching the scene silently, seeing the grandpa and his love and affection for his grandsons.
‘Well, Herambh, because of on-line education, Bunty and Babli are well versed with this internet technology, they will guide me in this “virtual hearing”, the first ever in my life, you know,’ confessed the senior without being asked.
‘Hello Bunty, Babli,’ I greeted them.
They somehow managed to say ‘Hi, Uncle’, in chorus, still munching on the chocolate bars.
As soon as they finished them, they took charge of all the computer apparatus on the table – keyboard, mouse, headphone, etc.
‘Grandpa, let’s start; Babli, switch on,’ Bunty ordered.
‘Yes, Dadu,’ Babli got up and switched on the main supply.
As the computer turned on, Bunty and Babli glued their eyes to the screen, searching for the internet connection.
‘Yes! Grandpa, we got the internet connection,’ shouted Bunty. Both the senior and I became alert. Following Bunty’s declaration, the senior wore his spectacles and started to locate the hearing notice which had the log-in details.
‘Bunty beta, these are the log-in details,’ the senior handed over the paper to Bunty, looking at him with great hope and placing one hand on his shoulder. On the other side, Babli was fidgeting in his chair, waiting to contribute his bit.
‘Grandpa, you are not allowing me to do anything; only Bunty beta do this, Bunty beta do that,’ complained Babli.
‘Calm down, Babli, you find my pen and mobile,’ the senior said.
Babli moved swiftly to look for the two articles in the heap of papers and files littered on the table. He somehow succeeded in his search, messing up the papers and files even further. And he handed over the mobile and the pen to the senior.
‘Good boy, God bless you.’ the Senior said, looking at Babli.
As the time of hearing was approaching, he told Bunty to log in. Doing as told, Bunty logged in and declared, ‘Grandpa, put on your specs and headphone, we are about to start the virtual hearing session.’
Fortunately, the case was before a single-member bench. At the scheduled time, there was some movement on the screen and the Member appeared.
‘Speak, grandpa, speak,’ advised Bunty and Babli in hushed tones.
‘Good morning, Sir,’ greeted the senior.
‘How are you, Bhishmacharya?’ asked the Member. Being the senior-most in Tribunal practice, the senior was addressed as ‘Bhishmacharya’ with reverence.
‘I’m fine,’ replied the senior. Having exchanged initial pleasantries, the case references were brought on record. However, the departmental representative was still not in the loop.
On the other hand, the senior was very eager to begin his first-ever experience of a ‘virtual hearing.’ But all of a sudden, the screen went blank.
‘Bunty-Babli, see what happened,’ shouted the senior.
‘Grandpa, wait, the internet may be down on the other side,’ advised Bunty.
After a while, the Member appeared on the screen. ‘Internet trouble, connectivity dropped, I wonder the learned DR is still not on air,’ said the Member.
‘Your Honour, I emailed my paper book for your ready reference well in advance, it must have reached the learned DR also,’ said the senior.
There was a pause. The senior could hear the Member’s mobile ringing. The Member picked up his phone and the senior overheard the conversation, ‘What happened? Not possible… why… power outage plus no connectivity… Oh my God!… No alternative… adjourn… next date… wait, I will call you back…”
‘Sorry, Counsel, we will have to adjourn the hearing; the learned DR says no power, no connectivity… Counsel can we make it to 1st April, is it suitable to you?’ the Member asked.
‘No problem, Your Honour, make it to 1st April,’ said the senior with a heavy heart. The Member logged off instantly. Bunty did the same. The senior took a long breath and removed the headphone. Bunty and Babli ran away to complete their interrupted cricket match. I, too, got up and consoled the senior.
‘Better luck next time, Sir; don’t be nervous, it happens very often, you are not an exception,’ and moved towards the door. And Tommy ran in to meet his master.
Thus, the first-ever virtual hearing ended with the first-ever virtual adjournment!
