In Someone Else’s Clothes
I recently went down for a hearing in Johor Bahru High Court for a criminal matter. It was to examine a witness. The examination was not expected to take long; half an hour, three quarters, at most. A loose thread to sew back into the record of appeal. Before my trip down in the evening, I attended an intense physical hearing in the appellate court in the morning, which left me dazed and numb sometime after. After winding down with lunch with my colleagues, I dropped by the office to attend to administrative matters and admire the atelier mural, which is still presently a work in progress. I went home to freshen up and pack my clothes and files for the next day. We loaded the car and hit the road. We, because my wife came along with me despite struggling with a resistant throaty cough. She insisted on keeping me company. But I suspect she wanted to keep an eye on her car, which I was driving down. She is mindful of my unhealthy respect for traffic speed limits and my penchant for honking at vehicles several times larger than mine. The traffic was heavy, so the drive was long. The plan was to review the file after checking in and having a quick shower. Tiredness, however, had a different plan for me. It directed me to bed soon after we reached our hotel room at close to ten and knocked me out once I lay down. I woke up at around seven in the morning the next day. After a shower and a brush of teeth, I sleepily walked over to the wardrobe. My eyes flipped open fully when I realized that although I had brought my black leather shoes, my robe and bands, my casual after-court attire, and my sandals, I forgot to bring my open-court suit (a black short jacket and black and grey striped pants). So there I was in my boxers and singlet, in the dim glow of the reflected light from the toilet, staring at an empty space where the suit should be hanging. This was the first time it happened to me in my entire career in practice. I reported this observation to my wife who tried to muster as much sympathy as she could despite being more amused by my predicament (so, it wasn’t much). I had three options. The first was to adjourn the matter. I didn’t want to do this. Not simply because I am fully aware of the ethics of an adjournment. But more because the examination was going to be short and I would have completed my case after that. I didn’t want to turn back so close to the finish line. The second was to find a suit. I preferred this option since I like to conduct witness examinations myself. The third was to find someone who could appear in my stead and ask questions that I had prepared. I did not know which of the latter two choices was the more difficult. Both presented the same challenge because I didn’t know many Johor lawyers or their suit sizes. I only knew one whom I felt at ease with about making bizarre requests. Unfortunately, he was tackling floods in Segamat. I didn’t want to bother him about my comparatively petty problem. I then thought of Jayabalan s/o Raman Kutty, the present Johor Bar Committee Chairman, whom we call ‘Jaya’, and whom I presently serve with on the Bar Council. We knew each other. We had met several times at official Bar functions and meetings. But it was a professional relationship. It was not a relationship in which I felt entitled to ask him for his clothes or counsel. But I was desperate and called. This was seven thirty in the morning. I was glad and fortunate I did. Jaya was thoroughly obliging and immensely helpful. He said he reckoned we were close in size and would bring one of his suits for me after he dropped his daughter at school. He later recounted that he immediately called his wife to press one of his suits for him to pick up. And his wife, like mine, found the whole predicament very amusing. Jaya was at my hotel by eight with his suit, a white shirt with a high collar and his bands. After he pulled away from the hotel he asked his wife to press another of his suits in case his suit didn’t fit me and he had to ask questions on my behalf. I rushed up to my room and was delighted to discover that I just fit Jaya’s suit. It was snug and a touch short on the arms and legs but that is no fault of the suit or Jaya. I just have monkey arms and legs. And all that could be easily hidden with my robe. I reported that to Jaya who was pleased and wished me luck for my trial. I arrived at court in good time and completed my examination as planned by mid-morning. However, I had to wait around because I wanted the Court Recording Transcript (CRT) video of the court proceedings on the previous date and that day. I was told that would be ready after lunch. So I went back to my hotel, changed out of Jaya’s clothes into my usual attire of shorts, singlet and short-sleeved shirt and made my way down to his office at Johor Tower on Jalan Gereja (Church Road), which was down the road from the hotel I stayed in. His office was on the fourteenth floor. I returned his suit and was rewarded with a tour of his office and an introduction to his colleagues. Jaya has a cosy office with a fantastic view of Johor Bahru. Jaya took me for lunch at a banana leaf place called Ashoka. I had a side of mutton varuval all to myself with briyani rice and chicken curry. The food was excellent. The
