This article is authored by Tanya Verma, a third-year law student at Chanakya National Law University, Patna. She has a keen academic interest in Constitutional Law and Family Law, with a particular focus on research and legal writing. She aspires to contribute to legal scholarship through meaningful, socially relevant, and impactful discourse.
Abstract
“Let justice start with equitable access since a dream postponed is not a dream denied”
This article critically examines the recent court’s mandate requiring three years of legal practice before candidates can appear for the Indian Judicial Services Examinations. Although the ruling seeks to improve judicial competency through practical exposure, it inadvertently leaves out a large number of worthy candidates, especially women, who encounter social and institutional obstacles when trying to gain courtroom experience. The article emphasizes the difficulties presented by this duty, including unequal access, financial restraints, safety issues, and gender-based limitations, through an emotionally charged and socially conscious lens. It contends that the decision derails the aspirations of several individuals who have devoted years to judicial training, unfairly impacts women, and hinders inclusivity.
Instead of tight qualifying limits, the article advocates for more inclusive reform tactics like structured training programs and voluntary practical exposure. In the end, it calls for a judiciary that strikes a balance between fairness, accessibility, and merit, guaranteeing that anyone who is dedicated can become a judge regardless of their capacity to complete a required practice time.
Introduction:-
Law students, particularly women, are feeling disappointed and distressed by the latest ruling that requires three years of legal practice[1] before a candidate may sit for the judiciary examination. This ruling seems to have ignored the profound socioeconomic circumstances and emotional commitments of thousands of prospective candidates, despite the apparent intention of maintaining the caliber of judges and guaranteeing practical exposure. Legal expertise is unquestionably crucial, but requiring it at the entry level has sparked questions about inclusivity, accessibility, and justice, especially for female candidates. Many law students view the judiciary as more than just a potential career path; it is a desire that has been fostered over many years. The judiciary stands for the voice of justice, the prospect of social transformation, and power with responsibility. This dream has a deeper meaning for women in especially since it represents empowerment, strength, and self-respect in a society where women frequently have to battle twice as hard to be taken seriously. This dream has been severely damaged by the new three-year rule. Many female candidates who had the judiciary in mind when they planned their academic careers are now devastated. They feel left out of a system that ought to have been created with their best interests in mind. It is incorrect to presume that all law graduates have equal access to opportunities because of the three-year requirement. However, there are significant disparities in the legal field. A large number of students attend tier-2 or tier-3 universities with little exposure, no alumni network, and few professional contacts. Finding meaningful practice is a big struggle. Working in lower courts can be dangerous or even discouraging for women, particularly those from conservative homes or rural towns. The three-year clause is predicated on the idea that all law graduates, regardless of gender, geography, or social class, can afford to practice and pursue a career in law. This is just untrue. Women are disproportionately disadvantaged by the requirement that they practice for three years before to taking the judicial exams. In a nation where gender norms are ingrained, women encounter numerous obstacles while trying to pursue a profession in law. Their freedom to practice freely in courts is frequently restricted by safety concerns, marital pressures, family expectations, and financial dependency. For women without strong family or financial support, the demanding and male-dominated area of litigation can be demoralizing. The system disregards these structural obstacles by enforcing this need. Even after completing her LL.B. with honors and preparing extensively for the judicial system, a woman may be denied the opportunity to take the test because she hasn’t accrued the necessary number of years of experience.
The judgment’s goal of ensuring judges have courtroom experience is not wholly without merit, but it is unachievable given the dearth of resources for aspiring attorneys. In India, the initial years of practice are frequently disorganized, inadequately compensated, or even unpaid. It is particularly difficult for candidates from low-income families because new lawyers work as juniors without regular pay. Due to access issues and social constraints, these difficulties are amplified for women. This judgment has established a barrier rather than promoting experience. Training, mentoring, and voluntary court internships are better ways to promote experience than imposing a deadline that presumes everyone has an equal chance.
This decision has caused emotional harm in addition to practical obstacles. There is now a gap for candidates who were only a few months away from finishing their coursework and taking tests. They feel as though their years of planning, effort, and aspirations were in vain. A lot of people, particularly women, centered their lives on this objective. Some even refused other employment offers or delayed marriage. The judiciary was their aim, not a fallback.
The heartache is genuine. I can relate to this anguish because I’m a young woman myself. I had dreamed of being a judge for many nights. It was about purpose rather than power. Contributing to justice and demonstrating to other girls that everything is possible were the goals.
Contributing to justice and demonstrating to other girls that everything is possible were the goals. Now, though, it seems like the dream is vanishing not because I’m unworthy, but rather because I don’t have three years of court stamps.
Conclusion:-
Our Constitution and the aspirations of the general populace are protected by the court. However, it also needs to be reachable. Roadblocks, not bridges, are created by a system that requires recent graduates to navigate an already difficult and uneven profession before they ever apply. The gap between opportunity and aspiration has grown as a result of this ruling. Many candidates, particularly women, feel excluded, unheard, and defeated as a result of what may appear to be a minor step for the system. I hope the system pays attention since I now feel that my desire of becoming a judge is a far-off dream. Instead of erecting walls,
reform should focus on constructing ladders. Instead of erecting walls, reform should focus on constructing ladders. The dream of justice must be accessible to everyone who is willing to serve, not just those who can wait.
Instead of making three years of practice mandatory, the system could have designed an inclusive reform. For instance, practice could be encouraged but not enforced. Practical training could be included during LL.B or made a part of post-graduation. Judicial academies could offer pre-service training programs or probationary periods where selected candidates learn on the job. Such reforms would have allowed candidates to prepare and learn without shutting the door on their dreams. A balanced policy would recognize the importance of courtroom experience without sacrificing inclusivity.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in the above article are solely those of the author. They do not represent the views of any institution, organization, or authority. The article reflects the author’s personal perspective on the issue and is intended to encourage discussion and critical thinking on the subject.
[1] All India Judges’ Assn. (3) v. Union of India, (2002) 4 SCC 247
