Blog

This interview has been published by Anshi Mudgal and The SuperLawyer Team

Your academic journey has clearly provided a strong foundation for your legal career. Could  you kindly share how these early academic experiences influenced your decision to pursue law, and what valuable lessons you gained during that time? 

From a very early age, I was fortunate to be surrounded by the world of law. My father, Mr. R.K.  Wadhwa, a practicing lawyer, served as a constant source of inspiration and familiarity with the legal  system. Law, in that sense, didn’t come to me as a sudden career decision, it seeped into my life  gradually. The exposure at home planted the seed, even though, at one point, I had briefly considered  exploring a different path. 

Thereafter during my days in Modern School, where I made a somewhat unconventional choice to  pursue Humanities, at a time when the stream was often misunderstood or even looked down upon. But  I had no inclination toward Physics, Chemistry, or Math. I was genuinely drawn to subjects like Political  Science and Psychology, which resonated with my interests. It was during this period that my interest  in law was truly solidified. My School also offered an intellectual environment. Being surrounded by  accomplished alumni, including legal luminaries, only deepened my resolve. 

My journey continued at Amity Law School, which was still in its formative years, I belonged to the  fifth batch. The atmosphere was dynamic; our seniors had built the foundation for various  extracurricular societies, and soon, the baton was passed to us. I was deeply involved in debates, and  with encouragement from peers and mentors, I went on to found the Amity Law School Debating  Society. My passion for expression and the performing arts led me to also co-found the Music and  Theatre Society and become part of the Cultural Society. I actively participated in national-level moot  court competitions, and led contingents representing ALS at institutions like NALSAR, BITS Pilani,  and Symbiosis Pune. 

I also realised that sometimes it’s not the ‘Big Wins’; But, the small victories that matter. Around my  Fourth year, Amity didn’t have its own logo at the time—it functioned under the larger Amity University  banner. But that lack of identity stirred something in me. I wanted ALS to have its own unique presence.  With support from then-Director Maj. General Nilendra Kumar, I conceptualized and designed the  official logo for ALS. 

Having gained valuable experience through various internships and legal research positions  in the early stages of your career. Would you be able to share some of the most impactful or memorable experiences from that period and how they helped shape your understanding of the  law? 

Internships were where theory met reality for me. I had the chance to intern with a wide variety of legal  offices, law firms, individual practitioners, and chambers. Each setting brought with it a unique learning  curve, and I quickly realized that no amount of classroom education could substitute for the practical  experience of being in court. In courts, you’re constantly thinking on your feet. You’re taught to use  every resource at your disposal—even when you walk into a courtroom with seemingly nothing. The  unpredictability trains you to stay alert, adaptable, and resourceful. 

After graduating, I spent some time working with my father in the trial courts. It was a hands-on  experience that introduced me to the ground realities. My father had a purely criminal practice, he was  mostly briefed from the defence side to conduct cross-examinations which in a way, gave me deep  insights into trial work and how a criminal case is methodically built. It was an education like no  other. He used to tell me “Agar aap vakalat ko 2 din chhodoge to wo aapko 4 din peeche karegi.” —if you  step away from law for two days, it will set you back by four. And I felt the truth of that every time I  missed a day in court. Sometimes, even when you might not have a matter of your own, you still have to come to court even if you spend the day just sitting in the court library or listening to arguments in  someone else’s matter; that can at times teach you more than a lecture ever could.

Soon after, I began assisting Mr. Sudhir Nandrajog in the High Court. He had this saying that stuck with  me: “If you’re good at law, you hammer the law. If you’re good at facts, you hammer the facts. If you’re  good at neither, you hammer the table.” It was humorous on the surface, but layered with insight. The  latter is one of the most important characteristics to have in a lawyer, where you put forward your  submissions to the Court knowing you might not be very strong either on the facts or on the law. This  is where your oratory skills and imaginations are used the most. 

The early years are all about being a sponge. You absorb everything, from your seniors, your peers,  your juniors, and even opposing counsel. Every moment in court, even the bad one’s like every heated  exchange, every procedural hiccup prepares you for tomorrow. At times you might just be learning what  not to do the next time around. Whether you’re waiting for your matter to be called or spending time in  the Bar Room listening to seasoned lawyers dissect a point of law—it’s all part of your training. 

Having worked alongside numerous esteemed Advocates and Senior Advocates, what inspired  you to establish your own practice? If you don’t mind sharing, were there any particular  challenges you faced when setting up your own firm in the initial stages? 

Although I had worked with seniors in the field for some time including my Father, I still had the urge  to carve out something of my own. I wanted to build my own practice that reflected my ideals and my  name.  

Of course, it wasn’t easy. The initial phase was lean, money was tight, clients were few, and everything  had to be managed singlehandedly. I didn’t have a team, or even support staff. No clerk, no office boy.  I was everything rolled into one; I was managing the files, doing the drafting, attending court, and at  times, even cleaning out my office. But that struggle, in hindsight, is what keeps you grounded and  makes you realise your worth. Despite those strenuous years, I would not trade it for anything. Having  your own practice comes with a sense of freedom which would give me the space to shape my identity  as a lawyer. 

Twelve years on, I still consider myself a student of the profession. Every single day teaches you  something new. What I’ve come to realize is that a litigation office is a lot like a household. While you  might think of yourself as the head of the family, it’s the clerk who keeps the house running (who  actually governs everything and makes you feel the void if on leave), It’s the seniors who offer  perspective and grounding, and Your colleagues (the infamous Juniors, as people call them in this  profession); they help you out the most when you’re in an uncomfortable situation before a Judge and  teach you things which even a senior can’t teach you. These lessons, some learnt the hard way, have  formed the cornerstone of my independent practice. And even with all the unpredictability, I wouldn’t  trade this journey for anything. 

Your involvement in pro bono work across a variety of legal sectors is truly commendable.  What motivates you to take on such cases, and if you would be willing, could you share a specific  instance where your pro bono work made a significant difference in someone’s life? 

Pro bono work has always held a deeply personal significance for me. I believe that if the legal  profession has given you the privilege of a voice in a courtroom, the least you can do is use it for those  who cannot afford to be heard. Every human doesn’t come with resources, but everyone needs to be  represented; and I do believe that having some degree of privilege, it is our bounden duty to represent  their side of the stories and some of those stories stay with you forever. 

The least a lawyer can do is give back to the society; because every client/ litigant who is seeking legal assistance cannot afford to spend heavily on counsel. I’ve learned from my seniors that no brief should be refused on the grounds of scale or fee. No matter is too small, and every litigant deserves a chance. That ethos continues to guide my practice.

One such case was that of a man, whose young son, about 21-year-old boy, working as a young air  conditioning technician for DTC Buses, was brutally murdered in broad daylight. The father, who was  a rickshaw driver, and his wife, had been running from one police station to another, and despite the  gravity of the crime, no FIR had been registered. They were absolutely desolate and hopeless and not  in a position to afford any legal representation. They came to me through a Local Help who knew me  as somebody who would be willing to help them. I wanted to help them in whatever way I could extend.  You can’t take empathy out of this profession.  

Another matter that stands out was a case involving slum demolition. Entire families approached me, numbers running into 100s; their homes, slums were to be demolished overnight and entire families  were to be displaced, without notice or recourse. My entire Team sat through the Night and we got relief the next day. The gratitude and blessings that those people felt is something that reminded me  why I did and what I did in the first place. These were more than just legal battles; Situations like these  reaffirmed my belief that the law must be a tool for justice, not just procedure. 

With your extensive experience working with high-profile clients and handling numerous  reported judgments, could you share a particularly interesting or noteworthy case that has had a  lasting impact on you professionally? 

One of the most impactful cases I handled came just a year and a half into my legal practice. A senior  lawyer referred the matter to me, since the client was in an urgent and vulnerable situation. It involved  a French national, residing in the UK, who had been in a live-in relationship with an Indian man. They  had a child together, and by mutual agreement, the child would visit the Father’s family in India for  short periods. However, during one such visit, the father refused to let the child return. The mother,  distraught and left with no recourse, flew to Delhi to seek legal assistance. That’s when I was brought  on board. 

I had never handled a Habeas Corpus petition before, but we knew we had to act quickly. We spent the  night researching and drafting the petition. We mentioned the matter urgently the next day. The father  eventually appeared before the court, bringing the child with him. One of our other prayers was seeking  the custody of the Child for the mother, but the court was initially hesitant, as the scope of habeas corpus  petitions is generally limited. However, we showed precedents which recognized that in exceptional  circumstances, custody could be addressed within Habeas proceedings. 

The court, after hearing our arguments, showed indulgence in the facts; The court also intervened to  ensure the mother’s visa extension was considered on priority, so that she could stay in India and contest  the proceedings. Within just two to three hearings, the matter was settled in our favour, and the child  was allowed to return to the UK with the mother. 

The matter gave me immense confidence and encouragement; I realised that there was no substitute for  research and preparedness. It was our research that had come to the aid of our client. The emotional  weight of that case was also immense, not just for the parties involved, but for me as well. 

There have been moments in my career when I was confident of my case, of the facts, of the law and  still lost. And then there have been matters where I thought I was fighting a losing cause, only to have  gotten a good order. I have learnt something fundamental through all this; sometimes, your job isn’t just  to win; it’s to show up, speak up, and stand firm, even when the outcome seems uncertain. You may be  fighting an uphill battle, but your presence and persistence can make all the difference. These  experiences have been humbling and invaluable. They’ve taught me to never take anything for granted  in this profession. 

As a Panel Counsel for the Delhi High Court Legal Services Committee, you’ve made  meaningful contributions to welfare initiatives, especially for foreign national prisoners. What led you to focus on this area, and what unique challenges do foreign prisoners face in India? Could  you share any insights from a recent case or initiative in this field? 

My time with the Delhi High Court Legal Services Committee has taught me many important lessons and  given me an opportunity to work for many causes. One case that stood out involved a convict who had  suffered a life-altering accident while working inside a jail-run paper factory. He lost three fingers due  to the lack of safety protocols. Prior to my involvement, multiple writ petitions had been filed on his behalf, but no concrete outcome was achieved. When the matter finally came to me, we argued that while prisoners may not be treated at par with civilian workmen under certain compensation laws, they  still possess fundamental and civil rights. If an injury occurs while working inside prison premises,  there is a duty on the State to ensure compensation and adequate medical care. The Court was kind to  accept our submissions and framed guidelines for compensating prisoners who suffer such injuries. In  my opinion it was a small but significant step toward justice behind bars. That case was a reminder that  dignity and rights do not stop at the prison gate. 

Some causes find you before you go looking for them. My work with foreign national prisoners began  that way, through my role as a Part of the Delhi High Court Legal Services Committee, I came across  cases involving foreign national Prisoners, many of whom faced long incarcerations and still faced  uncertainty about their dates of deportation. These individuals faced a unique and often overlooked set  of challenges. Most had no local support, no financial means, no access to translators, and in many  cases, no consular assistance. Something as basic as arranging for a surety or providing a permanent  Indian address became insurmountable obstacles to their release. The legal system, while well intentioned, can become an alien labyrinth when you’re navigating it in a foreign land with no resources  or familiarity. Justice cannot be selective. It cannot favour those with access and leave behind those  without. If our system is to remain just and equitable, we must ensure that everyone, regardless of  nationality or status, is afforded due process and humane treatment. 

During my time as DHCLSC, I also had the opportunity to visit the FRRO, we witnessed the  Overcrowding in the centre, and saw the deplorable state of affairs, where some foreign nationals are  there for more than 6 months, and some for many years altogether, which in my opinion should  absolutely not be the scenario. We came across multiple facets that in our opinion require interventions  and corrections. In our role, we even made a report and we submitted the same to the DHCLSC. 

Your dedication to social causes, including fundraising and various welfare activities, is truly  admirable. What inspires you to invest time and energy into these causes, and how do you manage  to balance your professional commitments, social work, and personal life? 

Giving back has never felt like an obligation; it’s always felt like a natural extension of my work. A  large part of that comes from my upbringing. My father was also active in bar politics. I had never seen  him turn his back on a cause, on a fellow lawyer in need of aiding the causes he believed in. 

That influence shaped my own sense of responsibility. In my limited capacity I have tried to aid causes  I could contribute for; from assisting fellow lawyers in need during Covid crisis or organising Blood  Donation Camps and contributing to other initiatives. For me, legal work and social work are not  separate silos—they’re deeply intertwined. 

Of course, balancing your personal lives and litigation isn’t always easy. The days are long, and  the stress of litigation can be unrelenting. But having a strong, dependable team makes all the difference.  My office operates like a family. In jest, but also in truth, I often say, your clerk is like your spouse, and  your colleagues are your children. Everyone has a role, everyone supports the other, and somehow, the  whole house runs.

Time management and alignment of values are essential. When you genuinely care about what you’re  doing, the work, even the long hours, starts to feel purposeful. And that purpose sustains you. You don’t  just show up to win cases, you show up to make a difference. 

Social commitments don’t compete with my professional life, they enrich it. In my opinion, this  profession requires you to be social, connecting with people is necessary to growing in the profession.  

With your wealth of experience across diverse legal fields, you are uniquely positioned to offer  guidance to aspiring legal professionals. What advice would you offer to law students and young  lawyers who wish to pursue a career in litigation? Are there any resources or approaches that you  believe are essential for success in today’s legal environment? 

Litigation is not for the faint-hearted. It tests your patience, your resilience, often all at once. You will  walk into court with a well-prepared brief and walk out feeling like you know nothing. You will lose  cases you believed were great and win cases you had given up on. It humbles you. And it should. Be  prepared to consult everyone—your seniors, your peers, even your juniors. I’ve learned valuable lessons  from colleagues younger than me, simply because they were looking at the problem from a fresh angle.  Don’t let ego get in the way of learning. This field rewards humility far more than bravado. 

There will be days when you feel lost, when a judge pulls you up harshly, when you’ve stayed up  preparing and things still don’t go your way. That’s okay. As a lawyer, your duty is that of a messenger  between the client and the bench. Your role isn’t to take matters personally, but to do justice to the brief  entrusted to you, to the best of your ability and conscience. You’re a professional messenger between  your client and the bench. You have a responsibility of not upsetting either of the Two. 

The courtroom has also taught me to never underestimate the importance of humility. No court is too  big and no matter is too small (I guess that’s what they say). It’s a bounden duty of any court to treat all matters at an equal pedestal. We, as officers of the court, our submissions should always be  respectful, well-prepared, and mindful of the board of the court. If you’re concise, clear, and courteous,  even the busiest bench will give you a fair hearing, every court/judge will have indulgence in your case. 

I have learnt an invaluable lesson: litigation is never a race amongst individuals or a sprint—it’s a  marathon. Each lawyer begins from a different starting point. It’s a field that will exhaust you, test your  patience. Reaching every milestone would again make you realise that you’re still far away from the  end point. You just have to keep at it.  

As technology continues to evolve, its impact on the legal sector, particularly in criminal law, is  becoming increasingly significant. How do you see the future of law unfolding in this regard? In  your view, how are courts and the legal system adapting to these changes, and what potential  challenges or opportunities do you foresee as a result? 

I remember observing how things worked during my father’s time—everything was handwritten,  typewriters clacked away in the background, and court files were carried in bundles tied with redband.  The charm of old-school advocacy still lingers, but there’s no denying that the tools of the trade have  transformed. Today, virtual hearings, e-filings, digital courtrooms, online legal research, and case  tracking platforms have become the norm. The pandemic accelerated this shift, making digital  competence a necessity rather than a choice. For many of us, adapting to this new normal was  challenging, but also eye-opening. 

Courts are adapting. Judges are becoming more comfortable with hybrid systems. Filing and listing  procedures are becoming more streamlined. But as we digitize, we must also confront the digital divide.  A significant portion of the bar, especially in district courts, continues to struggle with basic  connectivity, lack of infrastructure, and limited digital literacy. For justice to remain accessible, we  cannot allow technology to become a gatekeeper. It must be an enabler.

A fair and inclusive legal system cannot only serve those fluent in English, comfortable with apps, or having high-speed internet. The evolution of legal practice must be sensitive to those left behind. We  need infrastructural support, training initiatives, and perhaps most importantly, the will to ensure that  no lawyer or litigant is excluded simply because they don’t have access to a screen.

Get in touch with Vishesh Wadhwa –

• LinkedIn