Indian Law: Is Justice Only for the Wealthy?

Is the law equal for everyone in India? This question deepens as we realize that our country seems to have two sets of laws: one for the rich and one for the poor. By the end of this article, you will understand exactly how this divide works.

Cricket is the most popular sport in our country, and currently, the IPL frenzy is at its peak.

IPL is not just a cricket league; it is India's biggest festival. It brings the glamour of millions, cheerleaders, betting, and players who become millionaires overnight. But behind this glitter hides a bitter truth that completely exposes the double standards of our country's law, justice system, and society.

The Vape Ban in India: A Tale of Two Realities

Recently, an incident during an IPL match raised several questions. Rajasthan Royals captain Riyan Parag was seen vaping (using an E-cigarette) inside the dressing room on live television.

There is a very subtle but crucial point to understand here.

If a player smokes a cigarette in the dressing room, it is a violation of BCCI (Board of Control for Cricket in India) rules. Since the BCCI is an independent body, whether they fine the player, ban them, or take no action is their internal matter. Smoking cigarettes is not a legal offense in India (except in public places).

However, Riyan Parag was not smoking a cigarette; he was using a 'Vape.' The Government of India implemented the 'Prohibition of Electronic Cigarettes Act' in 2019. Under this law, the production, manufacture, import, export, transport, sale, and distribution of e-cigarettes are completely banned in India.

Legal Punishment: If a common man breaks this law for the first time, they can face up to 1 year in prison or a fine of ₹1 lakh (or both). For a second offense, the penalty increases to 3 years in prison and a ₹5 lakh fine.

But what happened in this case? The BCCI settled the matter by docking 25% of Riyan Parag's match fee.

Think about it... for a player earning crores from the IPL, what does 25% of one match fee or a ₹1 lakh government fine even mean? For a millionaire like Riyan Parag, ₹1 lakh is nothing.

But look at it from the perspective of a common man. It takes years of blood, sweat, and hard work for an ordinary person to save ₹1 lakh. In reality, this law seems to exist only for the poor. A poor man would think a hundred times before vaping, fearing where he would get ₹1 lakh or how he would avoid jail. But the rich don't care. They know punishment is unlikely, and even if caught, they can easily escape by paying ₹1 lakh. For them, this fine is not a punishment; it’s just a small 'fee' to commit a crime.

The Real Questions No One Asked:

If the sale and purchase of vapes are completely banned in India, how did this vape reach the high-security IPL dressing room?

Who supplied it? Has the police or the Narcotics Department conducted any investigation into this?

If a common man earning ₹400 a day were caught with a vape, the police would immediately throw him in jail and impose a ₹1 lakh fine. Why is the law so lenient for a millionaire cricketer?

Is a ₹1 lakh fine truly a punishment for someone like Riyan Parag? Financial penalties should always be based on a person's status (Percentage of Net Worth) rather than a fixed amount. Otherwise, fines will remain nothing more than a 'license fee' for the rich to break the law.

The most alarming part is that 15-year-old kids are sitting in that same dressing room and on the same team. What are we teaching them?

What is the Punishment for Child Labour in India?

In this same IPL, a 15-year-old boy named Vaibhav Suryavanshi is playing. The media everywhere is praising his talent. But have we ever considered the legal aspect of this?

Under the Government of India's 'Child Labour (Prohibition and Regulation) Act,' employing children under 14 is a crime, and adolescents (14 to 18 years old) cannot be employed in hazardous industries.

If a 15-year-old plays 'Under-15' or 'Under-19' cricket, or represents the country in the national team, that is a different matter—he is playing for the nation. But the IPL is not a national sport; it is a private commercial league. It is entirely about money, entertainment, and business.

If Vaibhav Suryavanshi is working for a private company (franchise) for money, does this not technically fall under the category of child labor? Are the young children working 12-hour shifts in films and TV serials not child laborers?

Society and the government argue that this is "Art" or "Sports" and that it is good for their future. That sounds great. But why is this relaxation only for the rich, the talented, and the children seen on TV?

The Bitter Truth

To understand this discrimination, let me tell you a story.

One day, while riding my bike, I stopped near a bridge. Two children were sitting by the side. One was about 15, and the other was 16. Both were rubbing 'Bhang' (cannabis) with their hands.

I asked them, "Do you guys consume this? Why are you doing drugs at such a young age?"

One of them replied with great innocence, "No brother, we don't consume it; we sell it."

Surprised, I asked, "Who do you sell it to?"

He pointed toward the road and said, "The truck drivers who pass through here buy it from us."

"How much do you earn in a day?"

"We make about 300 to 400 rupees."

I felt both angry and sympathetic. I said, "You are working so hard in the heat; why don't you find some decent work? Ask for a job in a shop or a factory."

The 16-year-old boy's response shook me to the core.

He said, "Brother, no one gives us work. Everyone says we are minors. They ask, 'If the police come, will you get my shop shut down?' We don't get work in any company either because we are underage."

I asked, "What do your parents do?"

He replied, "Our father has passed away. It's just us two brothers and our two sisters. Our mother cuts grass for buffaloes. We have to do all this just to manage household expenses and fill our stomachs. When the Bhang runs out, we pick trash and collect empty bottles."

I looked at those children. The exhaustion and struggle on their faces were no less than that of a laborer working all day in a corporate company. Those kids work day and night, yet they don't even get two square meals a day.

The Hypocrisy of Law and Society

I also believe that child labor is wrong. Children should have books in their hands, not tools for work.

But...

When Vaibhav Suryavanshi plays in the IPL or a rich man's child appears in a TV advertisement, we applaud. No policeman goes to arrest that director or franchise owner. Because their parents aren't poor, and they aren't working out of desperation.

However, when a poor, orphaned child—whose mother doesn't have money to feed him—asks for work at a tea stall, the entire society suddenly becomes 'activists.' The police, politicians, NGOs, and news channels suddenly remember child labor laws.

While that child earns ₹100 a day washing cups at the tea stall, people threaten the shop owner, saying, "Fire him, or we will call the police." The result? The shop owner, out of fear, fires 'Chotu.'

Did that policeman, that NGO, or that social reformer take responsibility for that child? Did anyone pay his school fees? Did anyone send rations to his house? No. They simply used the stick of the law to snatch away that child's livelihood. When that child is denied the right to earn a dignified living, he is forced to sell bhang to truck drivers, pick trash, or beg at crossroads.

India: One Country, Two Worlds

We are living in a country where justice is not blind; justice wears glasses for the rich and a blindfold for the poor.

If you are famous and have millions of rupees, you can break a national law on live TV by vaping a banned substance and escape by paying just 25% of one day's earnings. No one will ask where the supply came from.

If you are from an influential family, your 15-year-old can earn millions in a commercial league, and it will be called 'Sports.'

For the rich, forests can be cut down, and thousands of acres of land can be acquired for as little as ₹1.

But if you are poor, an orphan, and just want to earn a hard day's bread to feed your hungry sisters and mother at a roadside eatery... this country will chase you away, calling you a 'child laborer.' The system won't allow you to work, but it will leave you abandoned to pick trash or beg.

The purpose of the law should be to protect people, not to make them helpless. Until this double standard ends, the gap between the 'Shining India' seen on TV screens and the India selling bhang under a bridge will never be filled.