There is a question India can no longer postpone: How can justice be called justice when a citizen may have to wait ten, twenty or even thirty years for the courts to decide his case?The figures are not merely alarming. They are a warning to the entire justice system. As of March 23, 2026, 92,782 cases were pending before the Supreme Court, while the 25 High Courts together had 63,95,572 pending cases. The Punjab and Haryana High Court alone accounted for more than 4.18 lakh pending cases. These are not simply numbers sitting on government spreadsheets. Every pending case represents somebody waiting.
Somebody is waiting for justice over land. Somebody is waiting for compensation. Somebody is waiting for a job. Somebody is waiting for the return of property. Somebody is waiting for an accused person to be punished. Somebody is waiting to be acquitted. Somebody is waiting for a family dispute to end. And somebody, somewhere, may already have died without seeing the judgment for which he or she spent a lifetime fighting.That is the real face of judicial pendency.
Punjab has a special reason to worry
For Punjab, this problem has an additional dimension. The Punjab and Haryana High Court is not dealing with a few thousand unresolved matters. It is carrying more than four lakh pending cases. Government data show that since 2018, more than 11.41 lakh cases had been instituted before the High Court and more than 10.83 lakh disposed of, yet accumulated pendency remained above four lakh.
Behind these figures are the people of Punjab. A farmer fighting over ancestral land cannot harvest justice. A family fighting over property cannot divide uncertainty among its children. A government employee waiting for a service-related decision cannot put his career on pause forever. A victim cannot be told that justice will come “eventually” when eventually may mean another decade.
And an accused person cannot be expected to live permanently under the shadow of a case that refuses to end.A case that lasts longer than a person’s working life is not merely delayed litigation. It becomes a second punishment.What is the value of a judgment that comes too late?This is the question the country must confront honestly. Suppose a person approaches the court at the age of 40 and receives the final judgment at 65. Suppose a family begins a property dispute when their children are young, and the case is still alive when those children become grandparents.
Suppose a government employee finally wins after retirement. Suppose an accused person is acquitted after spending decades carrying the stigma of a criminal case.The judgment may be legally correct. But can legal correctness alone compensate for lost years?Time is not a procedural detail. Time is life. And once lost, it cannot be restored by a court order.
The poorest citizen pays the highest price
The judicial system is supposed to be the great equaliser—the place where an ordinary citizen can stand before the powerful and demand his rights. But prolonged litigation can reverse that principle.
A wealthy litigant may be able to finance lawyers, repeated appearances and years of legal proceedings. For an ordinary Punjabi family, every hearing can mean travel expenses, lost wages, legal fees and another day away from work.
The longer the case continues, the greater the financial and emotional burden.
Eventually, the question becomes brutally simple: Can an ordinary citizen afford to wait for justice?
If the answer is no, then access to justice is already unequal.
The oldest cases cannot be treated like new cases
India cannot continue treating a case filed yesterday and a case pending for twenty years as though they are simply two entries in the same queue. They are not.
The twenty-year-old case has already consumed a substantial part of somebody’s life.
There must be a national “Oldest Cases First” strategy. Every High Court should publicly identify cases pending for 10, 15, 20 and 25 years or more. Their status should be monitored regularly. Reasons for delay should be recorded. Cases should not disappear into an administrative maze where nobody knows when they will actually be heard.
The country needs a transparent age-wise judicial pendency dashboard so citizens can see not merely how many cases are pending, but how old those cases are and why they remain pending.
Adjournment cannot become a lifestyle
India must also confront the culture of endless adjournments. Every adjournment may look harmless on paper. But for a litigant, another adjournment may mean another month of uncertainty, another expense and another postponement of life.
Procedural safeguards are essential. Fair hearings are essential. Lawyers must have adequate opportunity to present their cases. But procedure cannot become an excuse for permanent postponement.
The law must protect the right to be heard without destroying the right to receive a decision.
Punjab needs its own judicial emergency plan
Punjab cannot simply wait for a national solution. The state, the High Court and the Union Government must work together on a focused plan for Punjab-related judicial pendency.
Vacancies in courts must be filled quickly. Court infrastructure must be expanded. Judicial support staff must be strengthened. Technology should be used to reduce administrative delays. Mediation and alternative dispute resolution should be expanded wherever appropriate.
But recruitment alone will not solve the crisis. India needs institutional accountability for delay—not accountability that interferes with judicial independence, but accountability that asks a legitimate public question:
Why is this case still pending after ten years?
That question should not be considered disrespectful to the judiciary. It should be considered respectful of the citizen’s constitutional right to justice.
Justice delayed is not merely an administrative problem
India is the world’s largest democracy. Its Constitution promises justice—social, economic and political. The courts are the institution to which a citizen turns when every other door appears closed.
That makes judicial delay more than an administrative problem. It is a constitutional and democratic challenge.
When citizens lose faith that their disputes can be resolved within a meaningful period, they may stop believing that the formal legal system can protect them.
And when faith in formal justice declines, society begins looking for informal solutions.
That is dangerous.
A democratic society cannot allow people to conclude that going to court means entering a tunnel with no visible end.
Punjab’s question is particularly painful
Punjab has already witnessed generations of unresolved questions—land disputes, property disputes, service matters, criminal cases, compensation claims and countless family disputes.
For a state whose people have historically placed enormous faith in institutions, prolonged litigation creates a deep sense of frustration.
The citizen does not ask for a favour.
He does not ask the judge to decide in his favour.
He asks only for a decision.
That distinction is fundamental.
Justice does not mean guaranteeing victory to the litigant. Justice means guaranteeing a fair hearing and a reasonably timely decision.
The judiciary cannot carry this burden alone
This is not a problem that should be dumped entirely at the door of judges. Governments have responsibilities. Legislatures have responsibilities. Police and investigating agencies have responsibilities. Prosecution agencies have responsibilities. Lawyers and litigants have responsibilities. Court administrations have responsibilities.
The solution therefore cannot be another political blame game. It must be a national mission.
India needs a judicial deadline—not for judges, but for justice
There should be a national conversation about reasonable timelines for different categories of cases. The oldest pending matters should receive priority.
Cases involving elderly litigants, children, victims of serious offences and people whose livelihood depends upon the outcome should receive appropriate priority.
Alternative dispute resolution should be expanded. Unnecessary litigation should be discouraged. Repeated procedural delays should be examined. Vacancies should be filled. Court infrastructure should be modernised.
And, above all, the age of every pending case should become a matter of public accountability.
Because a democracy cannot measure the health of its justice system merely by counting how many cases were disposed of last year.
It must ask:
How long did the people wait?
The final question
The Supreme Court has more than 92,000 pending cases. The High Courts have nearly 64 lakh. The Punjab and Haryana High Court alone has more than 4.18 lakh.
These numbers should not frighten citizens away from the courts. They should frighten the system into reform.
Because behind every pending file is a human being. Behind every human being is a life. And behind every life is a finite amount of time.
A court can restore property. It can award compensation. It can overturn a conviction. It can order reinstatement. It can punish the guilty. It can acquit the innocent.
But there is one thing even the highest court cannot restore:
Time lost waiting for justice.
India therefore needs to stop asking only how many cases the courts can dispose of. It needs to ask the question that millions of litigants have been asking silently for years:
“HOW LONG MUST I WAIT?”
And for Punjab, the question is even more urgent:
If more than four lakh cases are waiting at the gates of the Punjab and Haryana High Court, who is listening to the people who have been waiting for years?
Justice must not merely be available. Justice must arrive while it can still make a difference.