A Day in the Judge’s Robe: If Only for a While

A Day in the Judge’s Robe: If Only for a While

There are many roles in the world that dazzle with power, prestige, or passion. Some come with the glory of applause, others with the burden of responsibility. But if given the chance to step into a profession for just one day—not for gain or glory, but for experience and introspection—I would choose to be a Judge.

Yes, for a single day, I would don the solemn black robe, sit on the elevated dais of justice, and feel the weight of impartiality wrap around me like a mantle forged from the very essence of ethics and law.

Why the judiciary? Because it is one of the few callings where silence speaks, where pauses are potent, and where words can either liberate or condemn. A judge does not chase popularity, nor do they bask in the limelight. Instead, they stand—or rather sit—as the embodiment of balance, morality, and interpretation.

Just for that one day, I would like to walk through the hallowed corridors of the court, feel the echoes of past judgments in the air, and take my seat not to impose power, but to uphold Dharma—the righteous path as extolled in our ancient scriptures and mirrored in the Magna Carta’s promise of justice. I would listen—truly listen—with the ears of Solomon, to both sides of the argument, weighed not on scales of sympathy, but reason.

The idea isn’t to mete out life-altering decisions, but to observe how, in the grey area between law and humanity, a single human being is entrusted to find clarity. That is no ordinary privilege; it is a humbling, almost spiritual duty.

Would I be nervous? Of course. The hammer of justice is not a toy to be played with. It requires the courage of Arjuna, the wisdom of Athena, and the restraint of King Harishchandra. Even for a day, to be the person who helps restore faith in fairness would be a lesson in humility and introspection.

It would also be an experience to step away from the noise of daily biases and prejudices—to view people not by their name, wealth, or background, but by their actions, their words, and the spirit of the law that binds all.

And once that one day is over, I’d remove the robe—not with relief, but reverence. Perhaps I’d carry forward some of its values into everyday life: listening more patiently, judging less hastily, and upholding fairness not just in courtrooms but in conversations.

As the old adage goes, “To understand someone, walk a mile in their shoes.” For me, it would be a mile in the robe and gavel of justice—a day etched not in power, but in purpose.