Medico-Legal Mumbo Jumbo
“We would be very happy if you would grace the occasion with your presence,” I heard Dr. Varun say from the other side of the telephone line. “It would make for some really interesting conversations amongst our students”.
I nodded, even though Varun on the other end of the telephone couldn’t see what I was doing. Before long I realized that an inordinate amount of time had passed without me saying anything. Now a word of advice to every prospective lawyer- ‘never let an entire conversation go by without saying anything profoundly complex or ridiculously intelligent. People rely on our ability to be eloquent and our gift of gab. If they can’t hear you speak, then they can’t muster enough money to hire you either.
“Varun, when did you say the function was? I have a defamation suit up for review shortly followed by a hearing of a Special leave petition in the Supreme Court. I have to make sure that I make a note of my scheduled meeting with your students.”
“Yes yes, Mr. Pandey the function begins at 8 p.m on the 24th of November,” said Varun.
“You see Varun, with the Court, one can never predict anything. One moment your matter is 3rd on the board and the next moment the judge dismisses the board entirely. We are quite the unpredictable professionals, you see,” I said applauding my intelligent reference to the fact that I was a hotshot lawyer.
My answer seemed to satisfy Varun. I heard him speak to someone behind him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Pandey I have a surgery scheduled for the afternoon and a class after that. I have got to rush. I hope I can fax you the other details later.”
I wondered how doctors always managed to make their reason for cutting a call short sound so infinitely more important than anything a lawyer might say. I shrugged.
“Sure Varun. We can discuss this further some other time”.
I replaced the receiver and cut the call. I was amused. Why was I complaining about Varun’s abrupt end to the conversation? I can’t even remember the number of times I have gotten out of a sticky situation citing reasons of either a client meeting or an important hearing.
Varun was my classmate in junior college. Ever noticed how junior college friends seem so long back- even more so than school? Varun and I were for the lack of a better term the geeky gawky pimple faced robotics maniacs. We were passionate about dissection and physics. With HSC out of out way we parted ways, each one of us going our different ways. Varun became Dr. Varun and my humble self- Advocate Suryavardhan Pandey B.A LLB.
Years later we met again at our college reunion. We established some sort of mutual admiration society, each proud of the other’s achievement. Varun asked me if I would come speak to a few of his students about medico-legal issues. I agreed.
The years had been kinder to Varun; he was as dashing as ever. However, our friendship had developed signs of strain and uneasiness. I still occasionally addressed him as Varun, but for him I was Mr. Pandey. Strange!
Varun was up for a big promotion, possibly even the dean’s position. If the seminar I was to give went well, things would really look up for Varun. I was helping out a friend who was paying me well. I made a face and shrugged. Power hungry doctors! Never mind, I did infact have a defamation case up for hearing, so I got to work.
A week later I sat staring at a hundred odd faces, eagerly awaiting my words. I was the savior who was going to tell them how they would deal with potential law suits, if ever such an issue would crop up in their professional life. My name was announced and the microphone was passed to me. I looked across the vast expanse of white coats and held my silence. I have often observed that it’s the effect your speech has on the audience that is often remembered, more than the words you use. I began.
“Medical Negligence- professional hara-kiri for any doctor. The laws in are country are very specific about what is medical negligence. The Consumer Protection Act 1986 and the Law of Torts shall deal with a civil case of negligence. If a criminal case if lodged against you, there is likelihood that you shall be charged under Section 304A of the Indian Penal Code……………..”
I spoke in detail about the matter, and had the attention of an eager audience. At the end of my lecture, the audience clapped and I was given the memento. But what I shall remember always will be the one question a student asked me. The gangly fellow with glasses bigger than his face stood up and asked in a clear voice- “Sir, how much would you earn if a high profile Medical negligence case was put before you and you were the lawyer for the defense?” I smiled at the question. It seems to me that the smile was enough to convey my answer.
I nodded, even though Varun on the other end of the telephone couldn’t see what I was doing. Before long I realized that an inordinate amount of time had passed without me saying anything. Now a word of advice to every prospective lawyer- ‘never let an entire conversation go by without saying anything profoundly complex or ridiculously intelligent. People rely on our ability to be eloquent and our gift of gab. If they can’t hear you speak, then they can’t muster enough money to hire you either.
“Varun, when did you say the function was? I have a defamation suit up for review shortly followed by a hearing of a Special leave petition in the Supreme Court. I have to make sure that I make a note of my scheduled meeting with your students.”
“Yes yes, Mr. Pandey the function begins at 8 p.m on the 24th of November,” said Varun.
“You see Varun, with the Court, one can never predict anything. One moment your matter is 3rd on the board and the next moment the judge dismisses the board entirely. We are quite the unpredictable professionals, you see,” I said applauding my intelligent reference to the fact that I was a hotshot lawyer.
My answer seemed to satisfy Varun. I heard him speak to someone behind him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Pandey I have a surgery scheduled for the afternoon and a class after that. I have got to rush. I hope I can fax you the other details later.”
I wondered how doctors always managed to make their reason for cutting a call short sound so infinitely more important than anything a lawyer might say. I shrugged.
“Sure Varun. We can discuss this further some other time”.
I replaced the receiver and cut the call. I was amused. Why was I complaining about Varun’s abrupt end to the conversation? I can’t even remember the number of times I have gotten out of a sticky situation citing reasons of either a client meeting or an important hearing.
Varun was my classmate in junior college. Ever noticed how junior college friends seem so long back- even more so than school? Varun and I were for the lack of a better term the geeky gawky pimple faced robotics maniacs. We were passionate about dissection and physics. With HSC out of out way we parted ways, each one of us going our different ways. Varun became Dr. Varun and my humble self- Advocate Suryavardhan Pandey B.A LLB.
Years later we met again at our college reunion. We established some sort of mutual admiration society, each proud of the other’s achievement. Varun asked me if I would come speak to a few of his students about medico-legal issues. I agreed.
The years had been kinder to Varun; he was as dashing as ever. However, our friendship had developed signs of strain and uneasiness. I still occasionally addressed him as Varun, but for him I was Mr. Pandey. Strange!
Varun was up for a big promotion, possibly even the dean’s position. If the seminar I was to give went well, things would really look up for Varun. I was helping out a friend who was paying me well. I made a face and shrugged. Power hungry doctors! Never mind, I did infact have a defamation case up for hearing, so I got to work.
A week later I sat staring at a hundred odd faces, eagerly awaiting my words. I was the savior who was going to tell them how they would deal with potential law suits, if ever such an issue would crop up in their professional life. My name was announced and the microphone was passed to me. I looked across the vast expanse of white coats and held my silence. I have often observed that it’s the effect your speech has on the audience that is often remembered, more than the words you use. I began.
“Medical Negligence- professional hara-kiri for any doctor. The laws in are country are very specific about what is medical negligence. The Consumer Protection Act 1986 and the Law of Torts shall deal with a civil case of negligence. If a criminal case if lodged against you, there is likelihood that you shall be charged under Section 304A of the Indian Penal Code……………..”
I spoke in detail about the matter, and had the attention of an eager audience. At the end of my lecture, the audience clapped and I was given the memento. But what I shall remember always will be the one question a student asked me. The gangly fellow with glasses bigger than his face stood up and asked in a clear voice- “Sir, how much would you earn if a high profile Medical negligence case was put before you and you were the lawyer for the defense?” I smiled at the question. It seems to me that the smile was enough to convey my answer.
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