Where were you born, where did you study before Doon?
In New Delhi, on August 28, 1978. Apart from a brief stay in Jakarta, Indonesia, where my father was posted in the Indian Embassy, I spent my pre-Doon childhood in Delhi, where I attended the Delhi Public School up to the fifth standard.

Tell us a little bit about your life before Doon.
I remember loving cricket, as almost everyone did (does). Tennis-ball cricket, especially, which we played in the Kaka Nagar (a housing colony for central government servants) parks and fields. Gol-gappas, chaat and generally unhygienic food were firm favourites, and I hated, and still hate, healthy stuff like methi and kadu.

It was a fairly typical Delhi middle-class upbringing, except that my sister and brother are, respectively, fourteen and ten years older than me, so there was little by way "sibling rivalry," as that term is commonly understood. Rather, my siblings did to my mind approximate quasi-parents, aligned as such with my rule-imposing parents (or together, against them), instead of the closely fraternal bonds I suspect others would have.

Still, I was born into a hugely loving family, and being the "baby" had its obvious advantages. I should mention that I'm the first Dosco Dhume, so there was certainly no pre-programming to send me Dehradun-wards.

When you were a child what did you think you'd be when you grew up?
You should have asked me that when I was a child! It's a difficult question to answer, because children, by definition, have a limited view of the world, and are conscious as such of that limitation, leaving little scope for projection on a wider canvas. Also, our perceptions as children change so fast, it's hard to keep track of them. An easier question would be "What did you want to be when you grew up?" Why, a diplomat, of course. Because I was a late child, I grew up a witness to the very best of a foreign service career - my father is a retired diplomat, my mother is a retired accountant, who also served abroad - and that did leave a strong impression upon me. I'd certainly recommend foreign travel for all children - it's surely the best antidote for the parochialism and petty-mindedness too many people in this world, and Indians not the least, can (to use a legal term) be indicted for.

What made you join The Doon School?
How many of us really choose to join Doon? Doon just happens to most people who go there; they are sent there. Fathers, even grandfathers, or brothers have preceded the child to that place in the valley, and so he shall dutifully go. In my case, I later found out it's because my parents thought it was prestigious. "Now he must belong to the elite!"

Did you enjoy studying at Doon?
I was certainly excited when I wrote the exam - November 20, 1988, was it? And still more excited when I got the good news at about the end of January. First trip to Doon February 18, 1989, and I can't wait (think of all the new friends I'll make!) And any kid who's read Enid Blyton is at least interested in the idea (St Claire's and Malory Towers are hardly boys' schools; still, the jump isn't hard to make).

But did I enjoy studying at Doon? Certainly not at first. My very first action on April 1, 1989 - and I was perhaps rightly to suffer for it - was to send my mother and cousin sister right back to Delhi, from where they'd accompanied me. That same evening in Martyn House it was absolutely traumatic to have to think that this would be my very first night away from both family and home.

That is of course a natural feeling of despondency. What isn't completely normal is the fact that Doon - through Doscos - is a place whose natural instinct is to be exclusive, not inclusive. Find out how many people have a Delhi address, and the school may as well be in Delhi. I crossed the Delhi threshold, but was still meant to feel different and despised. I can only imagine what others who didn't fit Doon's ethnic stereotype - and there is a stereotype; ask yourself, it will come to you - had to feel. Adolescents - tweens/teens, whatever - are of course singular, as age groups go, in their propensity to reach for the lowest common denominator. The sheer meanness the teenage mind is capable of can boggle, well, the mind. Specifically, darker-skinned and slighter-built students start with natural deficits in the hierarchial place that Doon-world is. Vikram Seth, when he came as Chief Guest in 1992, also spoke about how people who stand out, for instance, intellectually, as he did, are some of the victimised members of Doon's student body. This is a special disgrace in a school that gave us Seth, Amitav Ghosh, Prannoy Roy, Ramachandra Guha, and others. How many other Seths and Ghoshes were unable to realise their potential at Doon, because the route to popularity was much easier playing hockey (and hookey) than by reading, writing, even thinking. The hidden costs must be incredible.

Thank you, VS, for telling us that, and for having the courage to say it out loud on Founder's Day! Too often when we speak of Doon, we speak in self-laudatory ways that do justice neither to the school nor to ourselves. Real introspection is what is required, and old boys (and one day, girls) will have to be the first to understand that the school isn't a museum where we go every time we feel nostalgic, but a living, breathing institution that must not only change with the times, but actually change the times.

Having said that, it is impossible, or at least very difficult, for a Dosco to leave Doon not liking it. I cried that March 21, 1996, because I couldn't bear the idea of parting. Doon is your whole world when you're there, and when other people speak of stepping into the great unknown, they don't know the half of it.

Everyone, no matter how low in the Dosco food chain, eventually finds a niche outside of the pecking order. In 'S' and 'SC' forms, especially, I was able to conquer my innate shyness, and participate in a wide range of activities, that included acting, quizzing, writing, playing chess, cross-country, running, the works. I have to say I wasn't very sporting (that is, fond of playing sports, though I did like to watch, and was one of Tata House's biggest cheer-leaders!) - hence, probably, the harangue supra.

As people, and as Doscos, we have an amazing ability to adapt, and adapt is what I did to Doon. I had my own circle of friends, and was unusually friendly with juniors - something they used to call, still do? - 'lending.' Another Dosco bad habit - true, your friends will end up being the people you go to class to, share a room with, etc. Of course, seniors "were there first." But Doon carries this senior-junior thing to absurd extremes, and suffers as a consequence. Housemasters and tutors are, in almost every case, guilty of omission. They can't let an eleven-year-old boy be picked on by an twelve-year-old, and then rationalise using a vague notion that "it happens in a boarding school." The twelve-year-old (or even seventeen-year-old for that matter (it's in SC form that some real sadism, psychological as well as physical, can manifest itself)) doesn't know better, and 'sneaking' is anyway taboo. So either the housemaster and his tutors need to keep a closer ear to the ground, or the 'sneaking' phobia has to be addressed - preferably both. EEither way something has to give, so emotionally fragile children, and Doon has its share, have someone to turn to. There's no self-correcting mechanism here, and the sooner Doon understands that the better.

Of course, the vast majority of Doscos grow up to be confident, well-adjusted men, but we must think of the few who get left behind, sometimes permanently.

What do you remember most about school?
I remember Tata House (I was 39-TA). Which house you go to has a monumental impact on the sort of Doon experience you have. Tata House was in those days not best-suited to someone of my temperament (Hyderabad or, perhaps, Jaipur or Oberoi would probably have been better), and my initial experiences were far from uplifting. That said, some of my best friends today went to Tata House, and for those who try, Doon is a lot bigger than the house you go to. Tata had its share of academically-minded students, and I was particularly fortunate to have housemasters like R.P. Devgun, Philip Burrett, Anton Siromani and V.M. Pokhriyal, who were sensitive to sensitivity, and, where possible, harsh on harshness.

I also remember the Central Dining Hall (CDH). It's amazing - the central importance food occupies in a Dosco's life. Nothing to beat butter chicken from Presi's of course, or bulls from Praddu's, but at the end of a busy day, I remember we'd just eat anything! Sunday breakfasts (with cornflakes) were just fantastic - I tried every combination at Doon from Non Vegetarian with Fish (NVF) to Egg Vegetarian Fish (EVF) to Pure Vegetarian with Fish (only Doon could make someone a PVF!).

What about Doon did you like most?
Holidays, of course!

Mid-terms were fantastic, except in the early days when I mostly felt home-sick and cold. But my experiences and moods in Doon were very seasonal. In spring term, I hated the cricket season (though I loved the sport), because February and, to a lesser extent, March were god-awful weather-wise (House PT was a particular nightmare!). Hockey season (April and May) was hot, but somehow, after mid-terms, you felt invigorated, and it always felt like summer vacation was around the corner. Autumn term followed the same pattern. God knows how many days every August and September I spent sick in hospital, and it was always so wet and depressing. Moreover, summer vacation was my favourite time, because that's when I got to go abroad with my parents, so there was an extended bout of home-sickness to cope with upon returning in August. But truly the best season was in October-November. I was a bit of a cross-country runner, but much more than that, was the hubbub surrounding Founders, all the plays, the athletics competitions, District's, the fantastic weather, Golden Night! Just thinking about it brings back a warm glow of memories from Doon.

What parts of Doon did you not enjoy?
House PT, as above. A particular torment. My very first day of PT in April 1989 I was called out by the PT leader, and named ("Ethiopian") and shamed before the whole squad.

It's the beauty of Doon that this same kid went on seven years later to get a PT jersey!

If you could change one thing about Doon, what would it be?
Get some girls in. Most old boys would probably cry shame, but the truth of the matter is that Doscos are facing a trinity of influences, against which they lack sufficient defence. First is the normal hormonal influences at work in the adolescent, pubescent, years that are ages 11 through 17. Second is the restriction on Doscos "busting bounds" or even leaving the gates, except with permission and, then, rarely. Third is the complete absence of girls in school. This is a completely abnormal atmosphere that is a breeding-ground for sexual ignorance and, worse, occasional deviance. Since we can't fight the hormones, the natural thing to do would be either to admit girls to Doon, or allow them out on a far more frequent and independent basis, so they can meet Welhamites, Scholars Homers, or people from the dozens of "Doon Internationals" that now dot the city-scape in D'dun. Admitting girls to Doon is a thoroughly good idea though, and it's only a matter of time before it's implemented as such. Look at Oxford University - if there was ever a bastion of tradition and all things conservative, it was this, but by the 1970s, all but one of its many colleges admitted both sexes!

Not that we have to copy any one; I just feel it's unhealthy for Doscos to grow up having so little experience of the opposite sex.

Your question about role models is next, but does any Dosco or ex-Dosco have a female role model? Male-only places - whether monasteries, barracks, or all-boys boarding schools - aren't regarded merely as breeders of deviance, they are also widely regarded as responsible for mentalities that either can't relate to women, or which stereotype and disrespect them.

Who are your role models? Are any of them Doscos?
Vikram Seth, supra, but also Bunker Roy.

Would you send your children to Doon?
They'd have to get in. It's too easy for us as Doscos to assume we can just 'send' our kids to Doon. And that relates to the point that the place is grossly unrepresentative of Indians in general. Of course, until income inequalities in India become less pronounced, Doon will be, to some degree, a place for the super-affluent. However, that doesn't mean poor and deserving students shouldn't be given a break through means and merit scholarships. Even traditional English schools like Eton, upon which we are supposedly modelled, go to great lengths to ensure that very good proportions of their student bodies are financed by the school. Schools like Eton and Doon can count on the generosity of their alumni - and of several affluent parents - to ensure that they don't remain stomping-grounds for spoilt, rich kids, but encourage future professionals, civil servants, and others who have to make their own way in the world, and who, indeed, are the bedrock of every society. As a ball-park figure, 20% would do nicely - that is, Doon must endeavour to ensure that at least a fifth of its students are admitted purely on merit, without any recourse whatsoever to financial considerations. Would I want my kid to go to Doon? Not in its present state anyway. For all its charms, Doon lies mired in a world of the distant past. Unless it becomes a lot less insular and adapts better to, and indeed effects, change, it will become still more redundant. Sure we had one Prime Minister, and have two Chief Ministers as of this writing, but Doon needs to treat it like an emergency case if it's to arrest this seemingly terminal decline on a national scale. India is changing - and Doon needs to keep up. Forget about addressing the needs of less-privileged would-be students, Doon doesn't even reflect the diversity of upper class India - it is narrowly confined to a very tiny, almost region-specific, section of the population. And the ex-Dosco patronage system - where we can just assume to 'send' our kids to Doon - is one of the leading, even dominant, reasons for this state of affairs.

Tell us a bit about your higher education. Where did you study?
At the National Law School of India (NLSIU), Bangalore, from July 1, 1997, to June 20, 2002. Like I said above, I had no idea I wanted to be a lawyer, but law just seemed to happen to me. In fact, I quite like to think of the law as a giant dustbin for all people who aren't really sure about what they'd like to do. Once hooked, however, a good number usually get drawn into it, and form a life-long partnership with their calling (hence, the saying: "the law is a jealous mistress"). Yes, the law is a long haul, but it's also a jealous mistress in terms of the enormous amount of time one has to devote to it. Even as I participate in this interview, I should properly be at my desk preparing a few hundred pages of reading for tomorrow's lectures.

I don't have experience of every single one, but as Indian law universities go, NLSIU, for a variety of reasons, good and bad, is the leader of the pack. The bad reason first: Indian legal education, in spite of recent improvements, is still a mess. Law is often the option of the last resort; it still hasn't permeated the consciousness of those students (more likely, their parents) who decide to become engineers and administrators.

The best reason by far for NLSIU's success is the very converse of the reason I just gave for its competitors' shambles. A large and growing section of the Indian middle class has come to realise the value of a legal education in an increasingly liberalised and globalised economy. A degree from NLSIU, and a few other reputable institutions, is regarded as a passport to success, though NLSIU itself was set up in 1987 in an admirable quest for "the world's first law university" that through the patronage of the bar (lawyers) and the bench (judges) would serve as a medium of social justice. NLSIU
has some of the finest faculty in India, and an
enduring sense of its own special mission. It also attracts several of the best and the brightest from all over the country.

NLSIU apart, I would say (this is based on hearsay in the legal world; I have no personal experience) the National University of Juridical Sciences (NUJS) is a cut above the rest, with National Academy of Legal Studies and Research (NALSAR), Hyderabad, ILS, Pune and Symbiosis, Pune bringing up the rear of the front pack. Government Law College, Mumbai has a long reputation, and India's current Law Minister went to Delhi University, but these two places are benefited best by their proximity to the country's most important courts.

I should emphasise here that the study of the law is largely a self-willed thing, and so the quality of the education one receives is rather a facilitator for self-study than a condition for legal proficiency. So your law education is really what you make of it - get ready, if you're thinking about it, for plenty of reading, much analysing, a lot of writing - and often, but not always, an ability and willingness to acquire the confidence to effectively communicate in court, or in a negotiation, the conclusions of your pain-staking research.

What did you major in? Did you enjoy your program?
There are essentially two ways to become a lawyer in India. You could enroll in a five-year B.A., LL.B. (Hons.) course, as I did, which will begin by introducing you to subjects like Economics, Political Science, Sociology and History, and then lead you on to the meat of the law with courses like Contracts, Constitutional Law, Criminal Law, Jurisprudence and Taxation. Or you could do a three-year LL.B. course, which would follow your basic three-year course at the undergraduate level, and be almost exclusively law. In the B.A., LL.B. (Hons.) at NLSIU, you'll do some fifty-odd compulsory subjects over four years sitting in a class consisting of your fellow students, numbering about eighty. Every subject lasts one trimester (three months, though some subjects last three trimesters, e.g. Constitutional Law - I, II and III), and there are three trimesters in one academic year. You'll be assessed on the basis of written research work (25 marks), viva voce oral examinations of that written work (10 marks), class attendance (up to 5 marks) and written exams (usually unseen, not open book) of up to 60 marks.

In your fifth and final year, you can specialise and choose particular subjects ("seminars") of your liking. These can be related to each other, or can be an assortment of courses - the only constraints are that the seminar should be offered in a particular trimester, and, rarely, that there shouldn't be too many people (for instance, more than twenty-five) taking it. Here, the emphasis is less on lectures and more on serious written work which merits up to sixty per cent of the total marks, with an oral defence in addition.

Finally, five years later (usually in August or September), you are graduated by NLSIU, and conferred, by the Chief Justice of India, the degree of B.A., LL.B. (Hons.).

At NLSIU, I should add, your admission is entirely on the basis of a written entrance exam that tests your proficiency in English, Mathematics, Logical Reasoning and General Knowledge - or at least it did in 1997. Exam papers change with time, and there are agencies that today provide prospective students with guides and past exam papers - though no such entity existed when we took the exam back in 1997. A simple internet search will help Doscos, if they so desire, to locate the agency of their choice.

The exam itself is held on the first Sunday of every May - make sure to register a few months in advance!

Would you recommend it to others?
If you're interested in NLSIU - and you must be, if you want the best for yourself, and who doesn't? - then check their website out at www.nls.ac.in. I would certainly recommend law as a subject for which many can feel only passion, and through which one can effect some real and positive developmens in society. Less idealistically, it's also considered highly lucrative, and for the most ambitious, the sky is the limit.

I would certainly recommend NLSIU to Doscos present and recently-passed - it's probably the best law school in India (and, almost as importantly, is perceived as such). What is more, Doscos have been known to enter and thrive! I know of some ten Doscos who went to NLSIU, at least three of whom are still studying there.

If you could go back to college again where and what would you study and why?
For all of the above reasons, law at the National Law School of India.

Did you have another career prior to law? What were you doing?
No, none. I spent fifteen months following Doon at the International School of Prague in the Czech Republic, and thereafter went direct to NLSIU, Bangalore.

What inspired you to enter law?
The lack of a superior alternative. Although now that I am a lawyer, I feel it could not have been a better decision.

What is your job and what do you do on a daily basis?
I spent one year (August 2002 to August 2003) working as a legal assistant to two successive Chief Justices of India.

I cannot talk in detail about my work (would-be lawyers should remember this as another important aspect of their work - confidentiality). But as the title of the post I had would suggest, a Law Clerk contributes to the administration of justice by way of research, and by performing such specific actions as are required of him by the judge concerned, which probably vary from judge to judge.

What are the most important skills required to be a good lawyer?
Integrity, to oneself, to courts, and to clients. Rigour, intellectual and analytical. Intelligence, grafted and spontaneous. Knowledge, immediate and lasting. Ambition, unbending and relentless!

Do you think law is a good profession to pursue?
Yes, certainly. Cross-culturally, lawyers are regarded with a great deal of respect, and sometimes unfortunately, fear and loathing, because of the sort of power and prestige they command. This is especially true of countries that follow "common law systems" (that is those countries like the UK, US, Australia and Canada, whose jurisprudence is founded in the old English law). The systems in these countries are adversorial, so much depends upon the skill of a lawyer in a particular case. The truth may be anything in a legal case; what matters is what sounds like the better version of the truth in a court of law. So good lawyers who come up with good versions are highly in demand.

Is law a good profession to practice in India?
Yes, India too is a common law country, because of our colonial legacy. So like I said before, good lawyers can really go the distance, though for every brilliantly successful, metropolitan lawyer, there are probably dozens eking out a meagre living in moffusil courts in the small towns of India.

I would think that an extraordinary lawyer, especially one who's starting from scratch - that is, one who, for instance, doesn't have a benevolent lawyer-parent to help him up the ladder - would require to be endowed with an enormous amount of self-belief. Networking is always important, and a legal career is no exception; who you know is about as important as what you know. So a large dose of confidence in one's own abilities is probably the right start for a regular Indian lawyer.

Do you believe that the Indian law system functions effectively?
That's a somewhat tautological question. Systems, by definition, function effectively, or they could hardly be called systems. But I get what you're after. Does it work effectively in the sense that it works well? Yes and no. It varies widely from legal area to area, and then within those different areas. The Constitution of India is widely regarded as a badge of success that every Indian can proudly wear. The higher judiciary - the Supreme Court and High Courts - has undertaken generally admired judicial reviews of executive actions, and has not shied away from taking on the government in important cases, where the government has acted manifestly unconstitutionally, for example, by violating fundamental rights. On the other hand, some would call this example of judicial activism a case of judicial "over-activism." Such people generally feel that the judges should exercise self-restraint, and not overstep their bounds by usurping the proper functions of our elected representatives. They have a point: India is probably one of a very few countries in the world where judges have actually taken it upon themselves to appoint fellow judges. Still, India is a functioning anarchy, and politicians notoriously dirty whatever they touch, so it may be a good thing after all.

If there was one thing you could change about the Indian legal process, what would it be?
The infamous backlog of cases must be substantially reduced. "Justice delayed is justice denied" - so the maxim goes, but cases can take several years, even decades, before reaching a denouement. In criminal trials, where the very life of an accused could be on the line (as well as the yearnings for closure of bereaved families), this is particularly sad. There is no quick-fix solution but, at least in civil cases, the system must become a little less litigation-friendly and more amenable to alternative methods of dispute resolution, such as arbitration, mediation and negotiation. Such changes won't be welcomed by lawyers, who have a vested interest in delay and confusion (that's how they make their money), but there may soon be no choice.

Did Doon help prepare you for a career in law? Did you write or debate in school?
In spite of Doon's constant efforts to put its students into a box, instead of just allowing them to discover their own special talents, Doscos somehow manage to do the things they genuinely like. I retained my love of reading through my seven years at Doon, and also kept up with the world around us, which can be easily lost in the swirl of those seventy acres. I won the S.R. Das Memorial General Knowlege Prize Test in 1995 (my name's on the board in the first floor of the Main Building, in case a current Dosco is reading this and would like to double-check), and that I guess was a sign of things to come. Because, and I should have mentioned this as another of the attributes every lawyer should have, a wide-ranging liberal education is a must if one is to succeed in the law. Lawyers must keep abreast of current affairs, because the law relates to most things that go on in the world, and the law is constantly evolving and adapting.

This may be more true in specializations like constitutional law than, say, corporate law, where you deal with niche areas, which are quite eclectic, but one must nonetheless be acutely aware of the latest happenings in their particular fields. "Current affairs," then are, just that - current affairs.

Could Doon have taught you something more or something different that would have helped you in your profession today?

Doon gave me a handy survival instinct, and that will certainly prove useful in a profession that can be as bruising as it is gruelling. What learning the law taught me about Doon is that the school lacks (or did lack; I had an opportunity to address Doscos twice in the last couple of years about law as a career option) an effective means of articulating both student ambition and career choice. In an increasingly specialized world, it's becoming very important to choose early and to choose well, and Doon would do well to invest in a career service that doesn't just talk the talk, but also walks the walk. Sure the law can be a giant dustbin for people who are just unsure; but, remember, if you want to go to a place like NLSIU, there are probably thousands of people out there who are pouring over their books, looking for any angle that would get them admitted. The competition is fierce, and it's not for the faint-hearted. A career counsellor, who would tell Doscos what they need to be told, not what they want to hear (or what they couldn't care less about), is the order of the day.

You study in the UK. Is the UK a good place to study law?
The UK is a big place. Is Oxford a great place for law? One of the best in the world. Is it especially good for an Indian lawyer? Why, certainly. India still follows the English model in many areas of the law, simply because our institutional structures haven't developed to the same extent as England's have. Several of our legislations were given to us by our erstwhile colonial rulers, and even today, we look to England for inspiration, just as the the younger Constitutional Court of South Africa sometimes looks to the decisions of our Supreme Court for guidance.

Do you see yourself returning to India after your education?
Yes, of course. I would like to study for a few years more, but once I'm done, I'd love to get back to India in a hurry, and to do whatever little I can to help restore our country to her rightful greatness.

Any words of wisdom for current Doscos?
The world is a much bigger place than the Doon School. Doon will envelope you and hug you close to its chest - but try, even while you're at Doon, to acquire a broader vision and a deeper understanding of outside issues and events.

Do you have any questions for us or suggestions or thoughts about Doon Online?
Keep up the good work! Shiv Singh deserves a pat on the back.

Thank you for your participation