Rajani was generous with her time, her patience, and her courtesy – a rare trifecta in our profession. She was exacting with the record, but forgiving of errors. She was unyielding in court and tough in conferences, but always fair. She was a fine lawyer and a fine human being; this, too, is a rare thing. To measure her life through the tired device of recounting professional milestones and courtroom anecdotes that we litigators seem to love is to do Rajani a disservice.
Through the months that we spent working together, I watched Rajani closely. She treated everyone with respect, irrespective of their position; she offered those she encountered a patient ear and a kindly voice; she engaged in meaningful conversation with not only her colleagues at the Bar, but also with non-legal staff at the High Court, beyond the humdrum of immediate tasks at hand. If on one occasion someone told her their child had just taken a tough exam, the next time they met she would remember and make it a point to ask how it went.
Simply put, Rajani cared. Even when it meant that she would have to forgo her own dues, Rajani cared enough to not just offer, but insist that a portion of her fees remain outstanding so that mine would be paid. When I tried to thank her, she didn’t even let me finish before she said,
“A junior’s fees are always the last to come and it’s just not fair, so don’t say thank you—it is your due.”
Source: Barandbench
