In a move that has startled skeptics and delighted torchbearers of transparency, all 33 sitting judges of the Supreme Court of India have decided to publicly disclose their assets—a decision that marks a seismic shift in the usually cloistered world of Indian judiciary. This isn't just a filing of numbers; it's an opening of windows in a room long sealed by velvet curtains of tradition, discretion, and the occasional whiff of controversy.
For decades, the judiciary has been the Bermuda Triangle of public accountability. Parliamentarians declare assets. Bureaucrats file disclosures. Ministers wear their wealth on election affidavits. But the judiciary? It was a bit like asking a magician to reveal his tricks mid-performance. Now, with a collective nod of solemn affirmation, the custodians of our Constitution have stepped into the limelight—willingly, if cautiously.
One can imagine the sudden buzz at the apex court's website, which now risks crashing not because of a landmark judgment but due to citizens curious whether their favorite judge owns a plot in Noida, a flat in Chennai, or a cow in Bihar. The move was formalized during a full-court meeting on April 1—not a joke, though the timing did provoke a chuckle or two among conspiracy theorists.
What prompted this sudden embrace of transparency? Perhaps it was the growing drumbeat from civil society, the whispers in Parliament, the rising crescendo of media investigations—or simply a realization that public trust is the ultimate robe a judge wears. Even the noblest bench appears hollow if its pillars are hidden in shadow.
Over the years, attempts to bring the judiciary under the umbrella of public asset disclosure have had all the success of trying to herd cats—blindfolded. In 2009, some judges offered disclosures with a side of ambiguity. In 2010, the court itself debated whether such transparency compromised judicial independence. In 2024, Parliament nudged politely again. Now in 2025, the gavel has fallen, and transparency has won a round.
Critics may ask if this is symbolic window dressing or a meaningful transformation. And to be fair, declarations can be as vague as a horoscope: “One ancestral house, currently under dispute.” Yet, symbolism matters. In a democracy gasping for trust in institutions, even a step in the right direction deserves applause—if not a standing ovation, at least a cautious golf clap.
But let’s be real—this isn’t just about what judges own. It’s about what the judiciary owes the public: credibility, accountability, and a sense that justice is not just done, but seen to be uncorrupted by personal interest. In an era where WhatsApp forwards hold more sway than constitutional articles, this move is a rare alignment of institutional wisdom with public sentiment.
Will it change how judgments are written? Probably not. Will it make the judiciary more accessible? Perhaps a bit. But it will certainly make judges think twice before accepting that second plot in Goa—especially if it's going to show up online.
So, here's raising a toast (non-alcoholic, of course—judicial dignity must be preserved) to India’s Supreme Court judges. For taking a bold leap into public accountability. For proving that even centuries-old institutions can still learn new tricks. And for showing the nation that justice, after all, need not be blind to public expectations.
Because in the end, transparency is not just about opening bank lockers. It's about unlocking trust.