NEW DELHI: The Indian judiciary, often revered as the great leveller, is still playing catch-up when it comes to its own backyard. In Delhi’s district courts, from Rohini to Tis Hazari, Saket to Dwarka, the lived realities of women lawyers reveal a different story.
The women walking these corridors in black robes or suits fight two battles: one in courtrooms where the law is debated, and another outside — in chambers without allocations, washrooms without hygiene, bar rooms without enough chairs, and workplaces without creches. At Rohini Court, the presence of a creche is often cited as a success story. But scratch the surface, and it feels more like a promise still in progress. Advocate Nilima Dubey recalls how the creche, introduced in 2014 after persistent lobbying, brought short-lived relief to working mothers. “We had vans to pick up children. Around 15–20 kids used it regularly. But sustaining it took a fight even after it was created,” she says.
The court does have infrastructure — libraries, bar rooms, sanitation, but there’s always a however. Rajiv Telhan, President of the Rohini Bar Association, points to the presence of sanitary pad vending machines and reserved chambers. However, Advocate Garima Bhardwaj is quick to challenge the optimism, “The 10% chamber reservation for women? I moved the resolution. It passed. But has it reached the ground? No. Not yet,” she says. Even safety measures like PoSH committees and grievance cells are often reduced to posters on walls. “People don’t know where to go. These mechanisms are barely visible, and without that, what’s the point?” Bhardwaj asks.
In Tis Hazari, where women’s presence in the legal workforce is growing — close to 2,000 by rough estimates — the courts appear reluctant to accommodate the change. The washrooms are few and poorly maintained, even in the ladies’ bar room. “Only two or three attached toilets for so many women, it’s not enough,” says Advocate Vineet Jindal, General Secretary of the New Delhi Lawyers Association.
Advocate Saroj Dutta Bakshi, who serves on the sexual harassment committee, describes the washrooms as “small and unclean,” with sanitary napkin dispensers still “in the planning phase.” Drinking water is scarce, pushing many to buy bottled water daily. Internet connectivity in chambers is weak, forcing lawyers to step out mid-work — raising concerns about both privacy and professionalism.
Then there’s the issue of safety — both structural and human. After 7 pm, all gates except one are locked. That one gate, says Advocate Ajay Gaur, becomes an entry point for street vendors and unauthorised persons. “The risks aren’t hypothetical,” he warns. “Two thelas can come in from opposite ends and block the path. It’s unsafe, especially for women leaving late.”
Even parking, a basic facility is rationed by scarcity. “If women lawyers want a spot, they must arrive early. But they also manage families in the morning. Why must they always be the ones compromising?” Gaur questions. In contrast, Saket District Court wears a more polished look. Clean floors, accessible infrastructure, and ramps for disabled access, on the surface, it appears modern.
But even here, the sheen fades quickly. There’s no creche. Chamber allotments remain a concern. “If we talk about 33% reservations in other sectors, why is chamber allocation not gender-responsive?” asks Advocate Mohini Kashyap. Advocate Charvi Grover notes that while the court looks neat, its planning isn’t inclusive. “Women need more than token access. They need space to work, to breathe, to be seen as equals in this profession,” she says.
At Dwarka Court, the creche exists but only just. With space for 8–10 children, it’s symbolic at best, failing to match the rising number of women lawyers who are also mothers.