July 12, 2007
Mooting Muse
In the last few days, I’ve been forced to visit alleyways in my mind I never knew existed. From wanting to moot for the fun of it, I’ve realized the truth in the statement (I think it was by John Grisham) that in the first year, you’re all budding lawyers trying to find your footing, but by the time you reach third year, you’re grateful if you’re not murdered in your sleep. It’s a lawyer-eat-lawyer world out here, and the biggest mouth gets to survive.
I entered law school in complete (and blissful) ignorance of what moots were. I heard about it, attended the moot orientation program, found the demos fairly exciting and decided, well, why not? So it began. I went ahead for two rounds, and then stopped short of the last round. It was, as the idolised mooters had stated, fun, the best part of it being the judges trying to prove that the counsel before them knew nothing. (I asked for an open court, knowing well that I’m more nervous in the absence of a crowd. Private interactions are never my cup of tea…) I found immense pleasure in keeping a straight face while the judges did the same in tearing my submission apart and finding every loophole in my issues. I guess I just loved arguing, and here’s the one place that the judges are opposing you merely to test your skills. That was pure heaven. To me, the frustrations of researching for the brief were worth those 12 minutes of utter bliss.
This year, I was faced with some of the snider realities of the moot. The fact that there was more time ensured that more people decided to join in the phenomenon called mooting. I’d heard that mooting could create bad blood, at times get nasty, sometimes political and sometimes just unfair, but this was the first time I’d actually lived parts of it. Hidden books were the least of our problems. Never does the section on Media Law or Sports law in the Library have more visitors than during the peak of the moot season, when people are desperately looking for hidden books or, on the other side, hiding them there. Every mooter wants that one innovative argument, that one brilliant spark of ingenuity, that one elusive case that would simply turn the entire case in their favour. A stolen case isn’t that bad either; the one who steals always presumes that they have better cases anyway. Anything sought for is given gratuitously. Never expect anything for yourself, unless you’re the one asking for help. Right now, I’ve seen some people (this includes myself) show faces I’ve not known them to possess, behave in ways that just asked for the most judgemental admonishment and at the end of it all, deny all of it. The research was nothing terrible, other than the extreme lack of books. The atmosphere before the speaking rounds, however, was unbearable.
For the first time, I was facing a moot court with displeasure. I knew my own issues, but the whole place had got onto my nerves enough. I entered the court, and then realised why I had tortured myself. There was the judge looking at me with a grin that spoke louder than his reputation that he was going to make mincemeat of me and have me right there for his lunch. I wasn’t disappointed. They did strip me of my best cases and whip me with their counters, but at the end of it all, I walked out of the court knowing that the entire process was worth those few minutes. I wasn’t pleased or anywhere satisfied with my own performance, I just loved the court. At the end of it all, the process might kill me, but the final showdown is always a worthy cause.
Bring it on!!!!!
March 26, 2007
Imbroglio
A few days ago, I was faced with yet another controversy that required me to watch Aparna Sen’s 15 park avenue. The movie itself was brilliant, bringing back faith in the quality of Indian cinema… &c &c. Unfortunately, as is typical of her movies, the end remains ‘open to interpretation’. I do admire the creativity that goes behind bringing about such an end… it must take either a totally different mindset or an immense amount of strength to leave your creations in the lurch- to fend for themselves, so to speak; leaving it to the characteristics of the creations to lead the way beyond the “end” of the story. I only said ‘admire’. My preference is an entirely differnt thing- I prefer solid endings. Happy, sad, astonishing, funny, whatever it is, just tell me what happens in the end. I usually get involved into one or another or all of the characters in the story which means that I land up needing to fend for myself in an open end. I usually manage to steer my imagination down some lane or the other, and my optimism ensures the characters’ (and consequently, my own) happiness at the end of the (extended) story. In case of those stories with a decided end, I usually imagine the sequences of events that could have happened in the course of the story, or those sequences that are not particularly explicit. It is perhaps for this reason that I like knowing the end of a story before reading it- (yes, I do. Don’t be so shocked) I like getting there in the confidence that the ‘end’ exists. Suspense does not excite me, anticipation does. I like waiting for something that I know for sure is to happen; as for what I do not know- reality is so full of it that I prefer to limit the unknown to the bare minimum of my life.
!! spoiler warning !! [not that it matters really... how old is the movie anyway?]
Coming back to the subject matter of this post- 15 park avenue- the story leves it to the viewer to figure out an end. In this case, I simply could not. There was nothing I could think of, no explaination I could offer to ease the suspense. It was a story without an end, and I wanted to leave it as a story without an end. Unlike me? Yes. For some reason, the movie did not leave me in any suspense- it left me calm, more like one of those passers-by watching the confusion, not really bothered about the conclusion. Enough for me to have known that Mithi seemed in bliss, whatever pain or anticipation she put her sister in. I watched the movie to take a stance, and ended on taking none. The reason I watched it was that my mother (a teacher, and consequently, involved in discussions with other teachers who are all equally vehement about the correctness of their own views) was involved in an argument regarding the movie. One contention was that Mithi’s sister was schizophrenic, and imagines that Mithi is. The other was that Mithi becomes one of those neglected women on the street who keep turning up through the movie (ominous signs, supposedly), and her sister eventually begins to lead her own life. For my part, I am content that I have not turned schizophrenic (or so I believe) and am happy to continue living in my own life that offers ample opportunity to question reality. After all, we all live in our own worlds, created by our perception, processed by and acted upon by our beliefs of the ideal world, and there can be no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, yet here we are, each vehemently leading those we can into thinking as we do.
