Of facts and fiction

I love reading Perry Mason books. Earl Stanley Gardner's suave debonair lawyer is the cat's whiskers.

Half the time he has no case, keeps flummoxing the DA, untangles legal messes with the ease of a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat... I mean, it's all so unbelievably cool. Each time Perry Mason says, "Objection, your Honor. Objected to as incompetent, immaterial and irrelevant," I want to cheer.

Then there's movies.

"Milaad, Tazeerat-e-Hind dafa 302 ke tahat mulzim ko saza-e-maut diya jaaye."
For one thing that gives you an indication of just how many movies I might've watched.

You can almost picture (the usual suspects like) Sriram Lagoo, looking like a legal stalwart, standing there is those frumpy barrister robes and trying to look triumphant, smug and indignant at the same time.

That's somehow how I pictured court proceedings would run in real life. What do I know?

My best friend's wife is a lawyer, and on our last trip back home, A and I asked her whether people said all that in court. She gave us a look that almost said, 'Are you for real?' And proceeded to regale us with tales of what took place in the courts. In Bangalore at least.

Chaos reigns supreme. Prosecuting lawyer puts forth an argument. And (I quote exactly what she said, verbatim) "En saar... eneno helthare" (transliterates, Saar, what the heck is he saying?)

Whatever happened to "Objection, milaad!"

A stared. I stared too. Does nobody say Milaad anymore?? Doesn't the judge use his hammer to restore order in court? Has the motion picture industry lied to me all these years? I object.

Objection overruled.
Pardon me while I read some Perry Mason and restore some lost faith.