In conversation with Senior Advocate Manish Kumar Jha: Insights on developments in the legal field and how to navigate through them

“When the law becomes the last refuge of someone facing a system gone rogue, it takes more than legal knowledge. It takes empathy, persistence, and the ability to persuade a court to see what’s right—even when the law hasn’t clearly said it yet.”;

Advocate Manish Kumar Jha is a seasoned legal professional with over two decades of experience in advising and representing clients across a wide range of industries, including fast-moving consumer goods (FMCG), technology, telecom, e-commerce, pharmaceuticals and more. Formerly a Partner at J. Sagar Associates from 2008-2024, Mr Jha specialises in corporate, arbitration, insolvency, white-collar crimes and trade mark law and has extensive experience in handling complex civil and criminal litigation and arbitration matters. His diverse experience includes representing top global companies in high-stakes disputes, advising on major corporate commercial litigations, and providing strategic legal counsel in both contentious and non-contentious matters. Mr Jha has been recently designated as a Senior Advocate by the Delhi High Court.

1. Kindly tell us about yourself. What inspired you to pursue law?

To be honest, I did not grow up wanting to be a lawyer or dreaming of quoting constitutional principles in court. I am a first-generation lawyer, and my journey into law was not sparked by any dramatic courtroom moment or childhood ambition. It was far more mundane and practical.

I had completed my graduation in Chemistry and, like many others at the time, briefly flirted with the idea of the UPSC. But being from outside Delhi, I had a more immediate concern: finding a place to stay that I could actually afford. Paying for private accommodation in Delhi was out of the question, so I was desperately looking to get into one of the postgraduate hostels at Delhi University.

Someone mentioned that law students stood a better chance of getting a seat in the postgraduate (PG) hostel. That is how I landed up taking the Campus Law Centre entrance exam — not with any grand plan, just with the hope of securing a hostel room. I cleared the exam and got into Campus Law Centre (CLC) but, as irony would have it, the hostel seat did not come with the admission.

It was only after the first year — thanks to a decent performance in my law exams that I finally got a place in the hostel. So yes, in a way, contract law quite literally got me a roof over my head.

But once I was in, law pulled me in. The first-year subjects — Contract and Torts especially — were fascinating. The logic, the structure, the way legal reasoning worked — it was a whole new world. What began as a makeshift plan quickly became something I genuinely enjoyed and eventually committed myself to. Over time, that accidental decision ended up defining the course of my life and career.

2. You recently started your independent practice after working at JSA for almost 16 years. How would you describe your time at JSA?

My time at J. Sagar Associates (JSA) was a foundational phase of my career — one that gave me not only scale and exposure but also discipline and structure in how I approached the practice of law. Coming from chamber practice, I had been used to working closely and informally with seniors, but a law firm operates very differently. At JSA, I learned the importance of institutional systems, team dynamics and most importantly, how to manage complex and demanding client relationships across sectors and jurisdictions.

I look back at my time at JSA as one of the most important phases of my career — not just for what I learned, but also for the sheer joy of being part of such an incredible team. It was not just a workplace — it was a genuinely great environment to grow as a lawyer and as a person.

One thing that stood out for me was the emphasis on presentation of advice. I still remember someone saying, “It is not just what you are saying, but how it looks when the client reads it.” That really stayed with me.

But beyond all that, JSA was great fun. Truly. Some of the best people I have worked with were at JSA — people who were not just brilliant lawyers, but also generous mentors and good human beings. Mr Jyoti Sagar, the Founder, is a visionary — an absolute stalwart, but also someone with a big heart. You rarely come across people like him in this profession. His approach to institution building was inspiring, and it was his values that laid the foundation for JSA’s culture.

I had the privilege of working in the disputes team led by Mr Amar Gupta, now the Managing Partner. Amar is a phenomenal lawyer — sharp strategist, exceptional drafter and someone with a real command over language. I learned a lot from him. He also made me conscious about my writing. I remember once he gave me a copy of Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation — a book on punctuation by Lynne Truss. It sounds niche, but it was transformative. From there, I started reading Bryan Garner’s work on legal writing, and even The Elements of Style by Strunk & White. Those books taught me how much precision and clarity matter in our profession — not just in arguments, but in the way we write.

JSA also instilled in me a deep sense of accountability. Advisory work was never casual — every word was weighed, peer-reviewed and assessed for risk. We were always reminded that what you write can come back to bite you, so I learned to give balanced, well-reasoned opinions, with no unnecessary flourish.

Looking back, the firm was a huge catalyst for my growth — not just professionally but personally. It helped me build credibility and confidence, and also exposed me to a variety of industries, client behaviours and high-pressure scenarios. All of that has played a major role in shaping my approach now as a Senior Counsel.

So yes, JSA was a lot of hard work, but also a place filled with warmth, mentorship and some great memories. I genuinely believe there is no firm like JSA when it comes to combining professional excellence with a great work culture.

3. You started your journey as an apprentice under Justice Manmohan (then a practising Advocate), then turned to working in a top-tier law firm, before finally starting your own practice. Can you describe the turning points in your career that motivated these transitions? Also, how does leading your own practice differ from being part of an established law firm, and what lessons from your previous roles have been most helpful in this recent transition?

It is been quite a ride — no vision board, no 5-year plan, just a combination of instinct, survival mode and the kindness of a few strangers who did not shut the door.

I passed out of law school in 1999 — an era when “internship” sounded like an American concept and not something Delhi University (DU) students actually did. We were still trying to finish our textbooks, not build LinkedIn profiles. If you did not come from a family of lawyers or did not know someone who knew someone in the profession, breaking in felt like trying to enter a wedding where your name was not on the guest list — and you were also wearing the wrong outfit.

But somehow, with a bit of hustle and a lot of help, the door cracked open. And once you are in, well, the real fun begins.

I got lucky. A senior from PG men’s hostel — now a Senior Advocate — connected me to someone who is today one of the country’s top dispute advisors. She generously introduced me to Mr Mahesh Agarwal, who at the time was building what would later become the litigation powerhouse Agarwal Law Associates. During my meeting, he asked the usual, “What salary are you expecting?” I, parroting what my seniors told me, replied with confidence, “Money is no consideration.” He smiled; and I started the next week at Rs 3000 a month.

The grind hit me almost instantly — endless commutes, my black coat absorbing more sun than legal wisdom, and full days spent in the Supreme Court hoping the matter would finally reach… only to return with a fresh date. I was darting between courtrooms like a caffeine-fuelled courier, juggling files, photocopies and the occasional existential crisis — while earning just enough to fund my chai addiction and the ride back home on a rickety Delhi Transport Corporation (DTC) bus.

After a year or so of this, I began to wonder — is this what I signed up for? Like any confused young lawyer with existential doubts, I flirted with the idea of UPSC again. Gave it another go. The UPSC, of course, ghosted me once more. That is when I realised — law and I were in this together, for better or worse.

But this time, I landed in the chambers of Mr Manmohan, who is now a Judge of the Supreme Court of India. That was my real education. Working with him was like entering a legal gurukul. He was precise, clear and absolutely uncompromising about preparation. What struck me the most was his ability to tell a client “no” without blinking — if he did not agree with the strategy, he would not sugarcoat it. That kind of clarity in thought and conviction in practice made a huge impression on me.

His drafting was surgical — no fluff, no frills, just sharp and clean. Every word had to pull its weight. And he was obsessively organised. He maintained this handwritten case law diary, arranged alphabetically — Arbitration to tax — with neatly curated judgments on every major issue. I have a copy of it. I still use it. That habit of mastering facts, anticipating legal angles, and having authorities ready — that is stayed with me ever since.

When he was designated as a Senior in 2003 and later elevated to the Bench, I moved to JSA in 2008 as of Counsel. Eventually, I became a Partner in the Disputes team.

That shift — from chambers to a top-tier law firm — was like jumping from solo theatre to a full-blown production house. At JSA, you had structure, systems, spreadsheets and more email chains than one could handle. But it taught me how to think at scale, manage big clients, handle teams and most importantly — how to present advice.

One of the first things I learnt there was that it is not just what you say — it is how you say it. Someone in the firm joked, “It is not just the meat, it is the plate it is served on.” That line stuck with me.

Law firm life also had its own quirks. Every advisory note went through layers — Associate, Senior Associate, Principal Associate and Partner. Opinions were carefully hedged. A straight yes or no was a luxury. You were constantly reminded, “Whatever you write can come back to bite you.” So, we all learnt to write like cautious diplomats — with disclaimers and footnotes as our shield.

Fast forward to today — Senior Counsel. Independent practice. Different game altogether.

There is no chain of review. No buffer. No room to hand over the file to someone else. When you are in court now, you are the strategy, the execution and the last line of defence. No second takes. You carry the client’s expectations, and frankly, your own reputation, every time you rise to speak.

And you better be ready. You have to anticipate the obvious questions — and more importantly, the unexpected ones. There is no time to say “I will get back on that.” You have to think on your feet and own the courtroom.

It is intense — but also liberating. The shift from a firm to senior practice has been massive — but I feel like every stage prepared me for this.

From Justice Manmohan, I learnt how to think sharply, prepare deeply, and write cleanly. From JSA, I learnt how to build structure, scale, and polish into my practice. And now, I get to bring all of that together — on my own terms, in my own voice, in court.

In a way, my career has come full circle. Except now, I do not hand over the brief — I argue it, and that is been the most satisfying evolution of all.

4. You hold extensive experience in the fields of arbitration, insolvency and trade mark law. What prompted you to specialise in these areas? What factors must one take into consideration while choosing a specialisation? Further, according to you, what is the right time to specialise?

When I was still in law school, the had just come into force. It was a seismic shift from the dusty 1940 Act, and nobody quite knew how it would unfold. Interestingly, my own journey in arbitration mirrored the growth of that legislation. As the Act matured, so did I — as a lawyer.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to include arbitration clauses in their contracts. And sure enough, when disputes followed, arbitration kicked in — and so did the opportunities for us young lawyers. Section 8³ applications, Section 9⁴ urgent reliefs, Section 11⁵ appointments and of course, Section 34⁶ challenges — they all started flooding the courts. In those early days, working in Mr Manmohan’s chamber, I got to cut my teeth on some very solid arbitration work. He had a flair for it, and being in his chamber meant I had a front-row seat.

By 2008 onwards, the arbitration scene really started picking up. Agreements executed in the early days of the 1996 Act were now reaching the dispute stage. Arbitration, once considered an “evening hustle” — something you squeezed in after court hours — began moving into the mainstream.

By the time 2016-2017 rolled around, serious money had entered the arbitration ecosystem. Arbitrations now happen during regular court hours, full-fledged arbitration practices have emerged, and for lawyers willing to put in the work, it is become a rich, substantive field. Naturally, I continued to grow with it, appearing in arbitration proceedings and in court litigation arising from them.

Insolvency law was a different kind of adventure. When the Insolvency and Bankruptcy Code⁷ (IBC) came in 2016 and the National Company Law Tribunals (NCLTs) and National Company Law Appellate Tribunals (NCLATs) started functioning, the legal community was not sure what to expect. The legislation was sweeping and ambitious — and it did not help that the early days were chaotic. But I had a ringside view of how the jurisprudence evolved, especially thanks to the role played by the Supreme Court and Justice Nariman in particular, whose clarity and sharp interpretations gave the IBC its backbone. Since I was at JSA at the time, we saw a large volume of IBC-related work — strategic advisory, litigation, resolution process management — and I got the chance not just to work on but also argue a wide range of insolvency matters. For a new legislation, it offered young and mid-career lawyers an incredible platform to build expertise from the ground up.

As for trade marks — well, that is where the fun is. When I started out, intellectual property (IP) litigation was still considered a niche practice. But thanks to law firms like Anand & Anand and others, and the entry of multinational corporations (MNCs) who are deeply protective of their brands, trade mark law became more mainstream. These clients do not wait around. The moment there is misuse or unauthorised use of their marks, they are in court seeking injunctions. I had the chance to work on a number of matters for PepsiCo, and each one was fascinating — fast-paced, strategic and often involving international elements. Most of our IP jurisprudence borrows heavily from US and EU decisions, so you are not just reading Indian case law — you are studying how to contextualise foreign precedents in Indian courts.

Today, the Delhi High Court has two dedicated IP Benches, which says a lot about the space IP law now occupies. And truth be told, some of the most successful and respected lawyers today have built their entire practice around IP. It is not just lucrative, it is also intellectually engaging. For young lawyers, it offers a wonderful mix of rapid litigation, creative strategy and legal depth.

So in a way, I did not pick these areas — they grew alongside me. And with each, I found a space where the law was still taking shape, where there was room to learn, argue and sometimes even contribute to how the law was being understood. That is what is kept me going.

There is no fixed formula for choosing a specialisation in law — it is rarely a lightning bolt moment. More often, it is a gradual process of trial, error and discovery.

In my experience, the first thing one must consider is genuine interest. If you do not enjoy reading judgments, tracking developments and engaging with the substance of that area, the work eventually becomes a burden. Second, you need to be realistic about the demand in the market. Passion is important, but if the area of law you enjoy has little work or clients in your geography, it may not sustain a full-time practice. Third — and this is often underrated — mentorship plays a huge role. Working under someone who understands a subject deeply cannot only build your skill but also open up opportunities in that domain.

I was fortunate to learn arbitration under Mr Manmohan, and later, insolvency work at JSA just as the IBC came into force. Both were defining experiences.

Your temperament also matters — some thrive in fast-paced, high-stakes environments like IP or media law; others are built for slow, technical, long-haul litigation like taxation, constitutional law or insolvency. You have to know what kind of lawyer you are.

As for when to specialise, I would strongly advise against doing it too early. Give yourself at least 3 to 4 years to explore. Do everything — civil, criminal, arbitration, regulatory — before narrowing down. Specialising too early can leave gaps in foundational skills. I have seen young lawyers master niche areas but struggle with basic drafting or courtroom presence. Let the work guide you. Build your fundamentals, do the basics well, and over time the kind of work that suits you — and that you are good at — will naturally stick. That is when you specialise — not because you were told to, but because you have earned it.

5. With specific reference to students/young lawyers aspiring to make their mark in these fields, what qualities do you believe are essential for a lawyer to thrive in the high-stakes matters involving litigation and arbitration?

Entering the world of litigation or arbitration is not just about quoting case law like a robot with a good memory. It is about showing up with sharp thinking, courtroom stamina, and nerves of steel (with caffeine often substituting for sleep). Your client may come to you with a box of papers and a “we have a great case” smile — what they really expect is that you will rescue them from legal doom by tomorrow morning.

Especially in high-value commercial disputes, insolvency battles, or arbitration wars, what matters is not just how much you know, but how clearly you think, how confidently you speak and whether you can survive the Judge’s stare without blinking.

So how do you get ready for this rollercoaster ride? Here are some practical, courtroom-tested action points — drawn from years of walking the tightrope between Bench, Bar and back-breaking briefs — to help young lawyers prepare for success. (And yes, this includes the stuff you would not find in textbooks.)

Action points to succeed

(a) Start by observing, not just reading: Your first courtroom lesson would not come from a book — it will come from watching lawyers argue. Visit courts. Sit in hearings. See how seniors present, pivot and perform.

(b) Treat internships as mini-apprenticeships: The nameplate matters less than the experience. Choose internships where you are allowed to participate — attend arguments, client meetings and drafting sessions. Learn by doing.

(c) Master the facts before you master the law: The best lawyers are not just great at law — they know their case inside out. Before you search for case law, read the brief thrice. Know every page of your file.

(d) Work on your language — written and spoken: Clear language is powerful. Refine your drafting skills. Read The Elements of Style, Bryan Garner, or even Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation. Precision in words leads to precision in thinking.

(e) Build the habit of case law curation: Maintain your own case law bank — organised by topic, annotated for relevance. When you need a judgment, you should not be at the mercy of a search engine.

(f) Think on your feet: High-stakes matters often involve unexpected questions. Practice the art of responding quickly and clearly. Moot courts help, but so does daily news analysis and active reading.

(g) Do not undervalue small matters: Treat every brief — however routine — with seriousness. Success in small cases builds trust, which later leads to bigger matters. Excellence is a habit, not an event.

(h) Learn to say “no” with integrity: Not every client instruction is right. If the strategy seems flawed, voice your concerns. Professional honesty builds long-term credibility — even if it means losing a brief today.

(i) Prepare like you are arguing tomorrow: Whether assisting or arguing, treat every matter like it is yours. When seniors see that level of ownership, they will give you more responsibility — and visibility.

(j) Take reputation seriously from day one: Your name is your calling card. Be dependable, ethical and punctual. The legal world is small — word spreads fast. Let your first impression be a lasting one.

6. In the past you have represented several top global companies across several industries in high-stakes disputes. Please share some insights into the complexities of these transactions and how one should navigate them. Also, what is the most memorable/challenging matter you have encountered till date and how did you resolve it?

High-stakes disputes rarely come neatly labelled with clear answers. They are layered, fast-moving and often take you to unexpected places — sometimes literally.

Take Mountain Dew case, for instance. PepsiCo had filed a suit way back in 2003 against a local trader in Hyderabad who had the audacity — not just to use the Mountain Dew name for packaged water — but to file a countersuit claiming that he had launched Mountain Dew in India before PepsiCo ever set foot here. A bold move, bordering on fiction, but one that surprisingly found favour with the trial court in 2019, when PepsiCo lost the case. It was a serious blow — not just to the client, but to brand credibility and trade mark enforcement overall.

We knew the appeal had to be handled with precision. I took it upon myself to turn this around — not just for the brand, but also to reaffirm our team’s credibility. I travelled to the Telangana High Court, dived into years of records, researched the mark’s history, prior usage, global jurisprudence and framed the appeal with care and purpose.

The hearings were intense. But eventually, our efforts paid off. The Division Bench allowed PepsiCo’s appeal and dismissed the trader’s counterclaims entirely, restoring the exclusivity of the Mountain Dew mark to PepsiCo. The judgment not only set the record straight, but also became a good study in how to frame and argue an appeal — it is something I often recommend to younger lawyers to read.

That win gave me enormous satisfaction — not just as a lawyer, but as someone who believes in putting everything on the line when the stakes are high. It was a moment of redemption for the brand, validation for our team, and a quiet personal reminder: your best work often comes when your back is against the wall.

Another matter that left a deep impact on me was one involving a client whose home had been attached by the Enforcement Directorate (ED). What made this case particularly distressing was not just the legal overreach — but the human story behind it. The property in question had been acquired many years before the alleged predicate offence even took place. And yet, the ED proceeded to attach it, leaving the client and his family in a state of complete despair. To make matters worse, his wife was battling cancer. Their bank accounts were frozen. It was the kind of situation where the law was not just a matter of rights — it was the only lifeline left.

We approached the Kerala High Court challenging the attachment. Legally, it was an uphill climb. The ED was firm in defending its action, and the jurisprudence on this issue was anything but settled. The High Courts across the country had taken divergent views. There was no clean precedent to rely on — only fragments from here and there, scattered across judgments, and the occasional hint from the Supreme Court.

We had to build the case from first principles — meticulously laying out the legal framework, scanning through legislative history, collating every relevant judgment across jurisdictions, and most importantly, demonstrating the sheer injustice of what had happened to this individual.

Eventually, the Kerala High Court ruled in our favour. That win was not just professionally satisfying. It reminded me why we do what we do. When the law becomes the last refuge of someone facing a system gone rogue, it takes more than legal knowledge. It takes empathy, persistence and the ability to persuade a court to see what is right — even when the law has not clearly said it yet.

These are the kinds of matters where you cannot just walk into court with a file and a prayer. You have to be completely prepared — on facts, on evolving legal positions, and ready to lead the court through uncharted territory. But if you can do that — if you can light the way — it is immensely rewarding.

Each matter taught me that beyond legal acumen, what clients value most is judgment — the ability to choose the right battles, frame the right questions and present their story persuasively. High-stakes litigation and arbitration are not just technical contests; they are storytelling marathons where facts, law, timing and tone — all have to be pitch-perfect.

And if you are lucky, every now and then, one of those stories becomes a personal milestone — just like Mountain Dew did for me.

7. How have you witnessed the field of corporate field change/grow over the years? How do you think AI and much development in technology in recent years is going to impact the corporate strategy and legal practice in the coming times? Also, can you please share some practical tips lawyers can use to employ AI in a way that enhances their overall courtroom experience and helps in meeting client expectations?

When I started out in the early 2000s, corporate law was a different beast. Work was mostly transactional — drafting contracts, reviewing compliance checklists, and occasionally helping a client through a mergers and acquisitions (M&A) deal that felt more like a bureaucratic marathon than a business strategy. Everything was manual. You carried files thicker than your laptop, spent hours chasing signatures, and the idea of tech in law was, at best, a decent scanner and a slightly-less-annoying printer.

But as India opened up more to the world — foreign direct investment (FDI) liberalisation, Securities and Exchange Board of India (SEBI) reforms, global private equity (PE) and venture capital (VC) players entering the fray — the nature of corporate practice changed. Suddenly, lawyers were not just “legal advisors”, they were risk managers, dealmakers and at times, even part-time investment analysts. Corporate law became faster, more complex and certainly more demanding.

One big shift I have seen is the mindset of clients. Earlier, people came to you with a problem: “Tell me what the law says.” Now, they come with a goal: “Tell me how we can get this done.” The expectation is not just legal clarity — it is strategic clarity. You have to be one step ahead, almost like a chess player who is already thinking five moves ahead.

And just as we were adjusting to that, along came the next big curveball — artificial intelligence (AI).

Let me say this clearly: AI is not hype. It is real, it is already here, and it is already changing the way law is practised. Earlier, reviewing 2000 pages of documents for a due diligence took a team of associates several days (and a lot of coffee). Today, an AI tool can do that in a couple of hours — tagging key clauses, highlighting anomalies, even suggesting red flags.

Even litigation teams are using AI to predict how courts have ruled on similar issues, and to generate first drafts of pleadings. It is not perfect, of course — but it is evolving fast. And it is changing what clients expect from us.

But here is the good news: AI would not replace lawyers. It will replace lawyers who refuse to work with AI.

The real value now lies in judgment, nuance and courtroom thinking. AI can find 50 cases, but it cannot tell you which one will land with the Judge on a Friday afternoon when the Bench is already in a hurry. It cannot sense the shift in a client’s tone or the discomfort in a regulator’s query. That is still us.

I believe we are at a moment where lawyers need to stop being afraid of technology and start getting curious. AI can make us sharper, faster and more strategic — if we use it well. Those who see it as a tool, not a threat, will find themselves ahead of the game.

So yes, the profession has changed — hugely. But if you are willing to keep learning, stay humble and embrace new ways of working, it is actually a great time to be a lawyer.

AI would not argue your case, but it can certainly help you prepare like a pro

For lawyers — especially those in courtroom litigation — AI is no longer an abstract future. It is already changing the way we research, organise and communicate. But like any powerful tool, it needs to be handled with care. If used wisely, AI can make you sharper, faster and more responsive. If misused, it can just as easily embarrass you in court.

Here are some practical ways to use AI in your litigation practice — and where to draw the line:

(1) Speed up legal research — but double-check everything

AI-powered tools like SCC OnLine, CaseMine, Lexis+ AI, and others can quickly pull judgments, spot precedents, and even identify conflicting rulings. If you are preparing for a Section 9 arbitration or a constitutional challenge, these platforms can cut your research time by half.

But here is the caution: always verify your results. We have already seen cases — in the US and other jurisdictions — where lawyers cited judgments generated by ChatGPT that did not actually exist. Judges called them out, and rightly so. AI is useful, but not infallible. Always cross-check citations using trusted databases like SCC, or the court’s own website.

(2) Never rely on AI to draft your pleadings

Drafting is where your personality as a lawyer comes through — your tone, your strategy, your choice of words. A pleading generated by AI will sound generic, lack nuance and can even misstate the law. More importantly, writing your own pleadings is how you learn the law and improve your language and logic.

(3) Enhance your courtroom prep with clarity tools

Use AI as a mirror to simplify and sharpen your arguments. You can also use summarisation tools to condense long orders or written submissions for quick review the night before the hearing. But again, use these only for internal clarity — do not copy-paste anything into your court filings without thorough verification.

(4) Boost client communication without burning out

AI tools can help generate client updates, summarise developments, or translate legalese into plain English. For example, if there is a new ruling under the IBC or an NCLAT judgment that impacts your client’s sector, you can use AI to prepare a quick explainer email or briefing note.

This not only keeps your client in the loop but also shows them that you are proactive and on top of developments — without you spending hours manually drafting updates.

(5) Use AI as your assistant — but not as your authority

Think of AI as your smartest paralegal. It is fast, tireless and always available — but it does not have your judgment, your experience, or your instincts. Do not let it do your thinking for you. And never trust it with legal interpretation. That is your job.

(6) Courtroom tech: LiquidText and the paperless briefcase

Another quiet revolution is how Indian lawyers across all levels are now using iPads and apps like LiquidText to argue matters in court. Senior Advocates and juniors alike are increasingly going digital — gone are the days of lugging around bulky briefcases filled with files. With LiquidText, you can annotate your documents, link your arguments to exhibits, highlight judgments and keep handwritten notes all in one place. It is courtroom advocacy at your fingertips — and it is especially helpful in courts like the Delhi High Court and Supreme Court where multiple matters are listed and shifting between files quickly is key. This is not just tech — it is a real, functional improvement to how we practise law.

Bonus tip for juniors: Read commentaries

AI can summarise case law, but it does not explain context like a good commentary does. If you are reading a section of the Arbitration Act or the IBC, pick up a reputed commentary and read the interpretation. It helps you understand why the provision exists and how it is been applied over time. That foundation will stay with you longer than any AI summary.

In conclusion

AI and courtroom tech are here to stay — and that is a good thing. They can help you manage your time better, communicate more clearly with clients, and prepare smarter for court. But they are only tools. Your reasoning, your preparation, your presence in court — those are irreplaceable.

Litigation still belongs to the lawyer who shows up, is thoroughly prepared, and adapts without losing their grounding. So yes, let AI and LiquidText carry your files. But let your own mind carry the argument.

8. Litigation is perhaps the most traditional form of formal dispute-resolution. At the same time, it has changed significantly over time. How has the same evolved during the years? How do you stay abreast with regulatory changes and other legal developments?

Litigation may be traditional — but it is no longer old-fashioned

Yes, it remains the most formal, structured and ritual-heavy form of dispute resolution. But to say it has not evolved would be far from the truth. In fact, in the two decades I have been in practice, I have seen courtroom litigation undergo seismic shifts — in form, substance and speed.

So what is changed? Let me start with three key shifts:

First, the procedural evolution: Litigation today is far more digitally integrated than when I started out. E-filings, digital affidavits, virtual hearings — none of these existed in the early 2000s. I remember typing out pleadings on desktop computers, printing multiple copies, rushing to the registry, and hand-stitching paper books with strings. Now, juniors complain if the server is slow by three seconds. That is how far we have come.

Second, the shift in courtroom dynamics: Earlier, most Judges were patient, particularly in trial courts. Matters would drag on for years, and lawyers relied more on adjournments than arguments. Today, especially in the High Courts and Supreme Court, the tempo is much faster. Judges are sharper, expect crisp arguments and rely more heavily on written submissions. If you are not prepared to get to the point in five minutes, you might not get to speak at all.

Third, the rise of commercial and regulatory litigation: Back in the day, civil litigation meant partition suits, recovery claims and the odd rent control dispute. Today, the dockets are full of the IBC matters, real estate project disputes, telecom regulations, SEBI directions, Real Estate Regulatory Authority (RERA) challenges — you name it. The nature of disputes has become more technical, commercial and urgent.

And through all this change, some of the most enduring lessons have come not from books or tech — but from observing the greats. Let me tell you about two briefs but unforgettable interactions I had with Fali S. Nariman that shaped how I understand litigation and learning.

The first was in 1999, while I was still in law school, standing outside the Supreme Court canteen. Mr Nariman joined a group of lawyers nearby. Someone asked why he was still in court when his matter was not likely to reach. He smiled and said, “I sit in court even if my matter does not come — you learn so much just by listening.” That line stayed with me. It was a subtle yet powerful reminder: do not waste time loitering or chitchatting outside — sit in court, observe proceedings and absorb. For juniors especially, there is no better classroom than the courtroom.

The second encounter came a few months later, when I was part of a conference briefing him for a matter. He asked a question about a section in the Arbitration Act. The response did not satisfy him. Calmly but firmly, he asked, “Have you even read the Bare Act?” — before reminding us: “Always start with first principles. Read the statute — again and again.” That advice has stayed with me every day of my practice.

So how do I stay updated with all this change — beyond the classic case law diary?

Here is what works for me:

(i) Daily reading — non-negotiable: Whenever I have spare time I scan updates from SCC OnLine, Bar & Bench and LiveLaw. Even a five-minute glance can tell you where the legal wind is blowing.

(ii) Back in the day, before legal apps existed, I relied heavily on SCALE every weekend to stay updated on Supreme Court rulings. For Delhi High Court, Delhi Law Times (DLT) was invaluable. Today, with SCC OnLine and its newsletter, life has become easier. I read what interests me, then add the case to my personal case law diary — which remains my go-to tool during hearings.

(iii) Weekly catch-ups with peers: Sometimes a 10-minute call with a colleague offers more insight than 10 pages of a circular.

(iv) Follow arguments in court — while waiting for your matter: Sitting through hearings helps you learn how different Benches respond, how lawyers present, and how even a familiar precedent can be interpreted differently. It sharpens your instinct.

(v) Stay in touch with juniors: They often catch developments you miss. I always encourage them to speak up and share — it keeps them engaged and keeps me on my toes.

(vi) Write, to learn: Writing articles or notes forces you to research and distil your thoughts. It is the best way to internalise legal change.

(vii) Argue across forums: Appearing in the NCLT in the morning, the High Court in the afternoon, and before an Arbitral Tribunal the next day keeps you agile and prevents intellectual complacency.

In short, litigation has changed — and will continue to change. But the core remains the same: preparation, clarity and presence. And if you are willing to sit, observe, read and adapt — like Mr Nariman taught us in just two encounters — the courtroom will always reward you.

Because in the end, litigation still belongs to those who show up, stay curious and stay ready.

9. The corporate world is rather fast-paced. While some advocate for a work-life balance, others disregard it as a myth. What is your take on the issue? How do you manage to balance client expectations, long working hours and continuous learning?

Balancing client expectations, long working hours, and the never-ending need to keep learning is the real tightrope walk in a lawyer’s life — especially in the corporate world where things move at lightning speed and even your sleep might need to be “billable”. It is easy to fall for the myth that burnout is the price you must pay for success. But take it from someone who has lived through law firm life, chambers, court corridors and everything in between — it does not have to be that way.

Work-life balance is possible, but it takes conscious efforts and clarity. There is a difference between real urgency and manufactured chaos. As I wrote elsewhere, not every petition needs to be drafted at midnight. Law firms sometimes fall into the trap of “urgency theatre” — rushing documents for the sheer thrill of it, or to impress a client. It ruins weekends, burns out associates and in the end, often delivers nothing extraordinary except resentment.

One trick is to differentiate between true emergencies and drama. Real emergencies — like a bail application or a building demolition — need instant action. But not every client memo due in three weeks needs to be done tomorrow morning. Clients often create artificial pressure. Partners add to it. But it is up to us, as seniors or leaders, to say: quality takes time. A good lawyer knows how to manage expectations without playing into false urgency.

Another lesson I carry with me comes from Fali Nariman. Years ago, as a young law student, I saw him sit in court all day — even when his matter did not reach. He said he always learns something new by just observing arguments. That stayed with me. So, when people ask me how I keep up with the law, my answer is simple: stay curious, stay present. I still read judgments, track emerging positions, and never take basics — like reading the Bare Act — for granted.

More than anything, I believe lawyers must learn to say no — not to hard work, but to chaos disguised as productivity. I have seen younger colleagues struggle with guilt over logging off, taking a break, or saying they need time. That guilt must go. Because no client or case is worth your long-term health or peace.

In the end, this profession rewards those who are consistent — not just those who are available 24×7. Pace yourself. Learn the law. Protect your time. And yes, take your weekend off when you can — you will argue better on Monday.

10. As someone who has actively contributed to legal education and mentoring, what personal philosophy or guiding principle(s) have you found most effective in mentoring young lawyers and what advice would you give to them?

Mentoring young lawyers is one of the most fulfilling parts of legal practice. Over the years, I have come to believe that the role of a mentor is not just to pass on knowledge but to shape mindsets, build confidence and offer honest guidance — even when it is not easy to hear.

My guiding principles in mentorship

(1) Show, do not just tell: I believe in learning by watching and doing. I do not expect interns or juniors to pick up legal acumen by osmosis — they need to see how files are prepared, how arguments are structured and how strategy is shaped. I try to make space for them to shadow real work and learn how the sausage is actually made.

(2) Give honest feedback, kindly: Praise is easy, but real growth comes from knowing where you are going wrong. I believe in calling out mistakes, but without crushing anyone’s spirit. My rule is: critique the work, not the person.

(3) Do not glamorise overwork: Long hours are part of the job, but they should not be your identity. I tell juniors: “Burning out is not a badge of honour.” Learn to prioritise, delegate when needed, and take rest seriously. There is no glory in collapsing at your desk.

(4) Encourage curiosity over perfection: I would rather have someone ask five “stupid” questions than pretend to understand and mess up. A good lawyer never stops being a student. I tell my juniors: curiosity would not make you look foolish — lack of it will.

(5) Treat everyone like a future colleague: Whether it is an intern, a paralegal, or a junior associate, I make it a point to treat them with respect. Hierarchies are inevitable, but dignity is non-negotiable. Law is a long game — today’s intern could be tomorrow’s Judge.

Advice for law students and young lawyers

(a) Learn to love the basics: Your drafting, research and case analysis skills are like compound interest — the earlier you start investing in them, the richer your practice will be.

(b) Do not chase glamour, chase work: Your friends may be posting about “landmark” arguments and Supreme Court selfies, but behind every good lawyer is a mountain of quiet, thankless work. Focus on that mountain.

(c) Find one good mentor — not ten big names: You do not need ten famous lawyers to guide you. You need one person who takes the time to explain things, lets you try and corrects you when you go wrong. Stick around them like fevicol.

(d) Build a case law diary (seriously): I still use the one built under Justice Manmohan’s guidance. Make one. You will thank yourself ten years later.

(e) Learn how to think, not just what to say: Courtroom advocacy is not about having the loudest voice — it is about structuring your thought, anticipating the Judge’s doubts and responding with clarity.

(f) Keep showing up: The law rewards persistence. Not every hearing will go your way, and not every senior will notice your effort — but the ones that matter, will.

Mentorship is not a job — it is a legacy. And every junior you teach well is your real contribution to the future of the profession.