Shake a Leg!

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There is a piquant news item on the Front Page of today’s Deccan Chronicle. I can’t resist quoting it verbatim:

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Typist hurls slipper at judge in Kurnool
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“A woman typist hurled her slipper at a judge in a Kurnool court on Thursday, alleging that he had been mentally harassing her for several months. The incident occurred at the court of the district fourth additional magistrate, Mr. M. Shanmugam. The judge suspended the typist, Ms Radhikarani. The police said that judge had complained that Ms Radhikarani had been shaking her legs restlessly and this had irritated him. She threw her footwear on his stomach after he scolded her and asked her not to shake her legs.”
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On reading this, several thoughts crossed my mind:

First: ‘Girls will be Girls!’ (I know because I am the only brother of six naughty sisters, and was admitted to a girl’s Free Elementary School as guide and escort for them).

Next: Unlike the case of the shoe-flinging Iraqi & Punjabi Journalists vs. Bush & Chidambaram respectively, Radhikarani’s action seems to be ‘spontaneous’ and ‘un-premeditated’.

Next: Is ‘shaking a leg’ a cognizable offence, tort, misdemeanor or mere Contempt of the Court?

Next: Why stomach? ‘That’ seems ‘below the belt’. I guess she aimed either too low or too high.

Next: I never knew that there are as many as four District Additional Magistrates in Kurnool. Maybe it was just a case of Shanmugam feeling ‘stuffy’.

Then again: My mother, as long as half a century ago, used to severely rebuke any sister of mine who indulged in this ‘disgusting practice’ and nipped it in its bud. Radhikarani’s case may just be one of lack of maternal guidance, nothing more. A stitch in time could have saved her being ripped nine times and more.

I had only one brush with the Judiciary: For reasons too complicated to dwell on here, a whole lot of us dozen parents had to file (false) affidavits that our children didn’t attend any recognized school, but were coached at home privately. A bachelor friend of mine (a chain-smoker to boot) volunteered to accompany us to the Midnapore Court. While we were all busy filing our things, he sat calmly smoking in the Court Hall. Suddenly there was a hush and there was shouting from the ‘Bench’: ‘Hey you!’; and everyone looked at my friend, who promptly turned back to see if there was anyone doing mischief. The ‘Court’ then roared: ‘Don’t you know that you can’t smoke in My Court?’ My friend immediately stubbed his fag beneath his shoes and came to attention. ‘I could have hauled you for Contempt of the Court; but since you appear to be ignorant and sorry, I am letting you off with a warning!’

There was this girl in my B Tech class who was more of a tomboy and preferred to sit on the back bench alone. She had a habit of chewing gum relentlessly, which I didn’t mind. But when she started blowing football-sized bubbles, I took umbrage. I had my way of treating such cases, which I learned from Bertie Wooster in the reverse. When he landed in a soup of Jeeves’s making, being forced to make an extempore speech to a bunch of naughty school-girls, they planned to collectively stare at him out of his wits. I used to ratchet up my Lecture to a crescendo and stop suddenly and stare at the girl when she was just in the act of blowing her next bubble. Everyone in the Class, waking or sleeping, would look back; and the girl would blush pink.

Judges should learn from Teachers!