A Plea For Reform - Court: State Vs A Nobody (A Film Review)

A girl who has finished her Class 12, but is a minor. A boy slightly older - an adult, who has dropped out of school. They become acquainted through a friend, the girl makes the first move, calling him. They talk on the phone, then again. A new, captivating feeling blossoms between them.

 Unbeknownst to the girl's family, she and the boy begin to connect deeply, eagerly anticipating each other's calls. They talk for hours, almost everyday. Rather, whenever they get a chance. Sometimes, the girl does not get the privacy to speak to him. They start talking on call at night. Late at night. They take the big step of meeting for the first time. They like each other's physical presence. They start meeting frequently. The boy introduces the girl to his friends. Next, he even introduces her to his mother and sister. The girl frequents the boy's house, where she spends time with the three of them. The girl tells the boy that she is already mentally married to him. Throughout this time, the girl carefully ensures that her family remains unaware about this boy and their closeness.

But the sparks of young love can seldom remain hidden for long! Inevitably, a member of the girl's family discovers their closeness, and manipulates the police to book the boy under POCSO Act.

These facts mirror countless real-life cases where young men face prosecution for being romantically involved with a minor-girl. Under laws like the POCSO Act—legislation primarily designed with the crucial intent of shielding children from sexual exploitation and abuse—such a girl is often automatically deemed a victim, a classification that, while protective in many instances, can become complex in borderline cases of adolescent consensual relationships. This, broadly speaking, also is the premise the Telugu film 'Court - State vs A Nobody'.

The film traces the genesis of the love that blossoms between the two youngsters—she on the cusp of majority, he slightly older. While their different social strata pose no barrier to their sincere affection, these differences sadly become a significant factor in the familial disapproval that plays out once their relationship is discovered. The girl's uncle—himself a father of two daughters—views their relationship as deeply damaging to the family's reputation and a detrimental example for his own younger daughters.

The film, a large part of which consists of court scenes, compellingly questions the law's perspective on adolescent romance and the application of protective legislation like the POCSO Act. By showing the protagonists' backstory, the film contextualizes their relationship in a way that evidence recorded in trial can never do. It clearly demonstrates how the POCSO Act and the setting of age of consent at 18 years can become a weapon for a girl's family to protect perceived family 'honour' and enforce patriarchal codes, ultimately diminishing the agency of adolescent girls. Unfortunately, this law, which was designed to shield children from sexual offences, is most frequently being put to use to criminalize consensual relationships, making criminals out of young innocent men.

In such compelling circumstances, our judicial system cannot afford to be a passive arbiter. It bears the responsibility to deliver substantive justice applying the enacted laws on the touchstone of the principles and safeguards enshrined in Part III of our Constitution. Consequently, judges must interpret laws not merely by their literal text, but with acute sensitivity to the specific context, the human realities involved, and the inviolable fundamental rights at stake. To do otherwise would be for courts to shirk their most fundamental obligation: of rendering substantive justice, which will actually reduce young adolescents as mere 'nobodies' pitted against an all powerful State.

Views are personal.

Author is an advocate-on-record, practicing at the Supreme Court and the Delhi High Court. He can be reached at anujkapoor.law@gmail.com.