𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Love is hope for the hopeless and sin for the saint. Love is both a salvation for the lost and a temptation for the righteous. It drives people to cross lines they swore ne...
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This courtroom scene references sections from the Indian Penal Code (IPC) rather than the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS). The choice made by me is intentional, as the book narrative is set in a timeline where IPC is still in force.
Read slowly guys to understand better!
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High Court, New Delhi.
Inside the marble floors of Delhi High Court echoed with hurried footsteps of lawyers in black coats, files clutched with them, their voices sharp with urgency.
Courtroom No. 7 was already filling up.
Reporters with notepads whispered in corners, law interns shifted nervously with bundles of case law. At the center, raised on a carved mahogany dais, the bench stood waiting, the seat of justice that had once failed a fourteen-year-old boy. Today, that boy returned as a man.
The last time Rutvik had stood here, he was a boy in oversized prison uniform, eyes swollen from nights without sleep, shoved forward like a criminal exhibit but the court declared his a Criminal and he became a prisoner since then. The same system that had chewed him up and spat him into an adult cell at fourteen.
Now, seven years later, he walked back through the same gates as a man, his right sleeve and black glove covering where his hand used to be.
Inside Courtroom No. 7 Rutvik's pulse hammered as he stepped forward. For the first time, he wasn't just accused. He will be heard.
He sat in the accused box, back ramrod straight. The stares from the gallery burned through him, but he kept his eyes on the floor until the clerk called the case.
"Criminal Appeal 2193 of 20xx- 'State versus Prisoner no. 704'."
The judge, name Justice Mehra looked up from his files, his expression is unreadable as he said, "Defence advocate Mr. Verman, you may begin."
Dixit's father raised up, adjusting his coat with the calm confidence of a man who had fought in this arena too many times to count. His voice was deep, steady and the kind that could slice the crowd without needing to shout.
