Senior Advocate Vikram Nankani on Advocacy, Arbitration & Bar Culture | Off The Record

EDITOR’S NOTE: The Lawyer Who Knew How to Switch Off

Update: 2026-02-10 03:20 GMT

There are lawyers who dominate a courtroom. And then there are lawyers who command it without ever raising their voice.

Vikram Nankani is the latter.

Those who have seen him argue; have seen the way judges lean in when he speaks. There’s no theatrics, no verbal gymnastics. Just clarity, preparation, and the kind of authority that only comes from decades of doing the work right.

So when I sat down with him for this episode of Off The Record, I wanted to understand what shaped that composure. What built that credibility. And what it actually takes to sustain a career at the top of the Bar without burning out or losing yourself in the process.

What I got was far more than I expected.

Mr. Nankani didn’t just talk about law. He talked about life. About the culture at the Mumbai Bar versus the hierarchical “sir culture” in Delhi. About learning from Ashoke Desai, one of India’s greatest advocates, who told his juniors, “Don’t call me sir.” About why opposing counsel can be fierce in court and friends outside it. About the discipline it takes to switch off after a brutal hearing and not carry the case home with you.

That last part struck me. Mental health for lawyers is rarely discussed. But he spoke about it with the same clarity he brings to his arguments. He said the key is learning to compartmentalize. To give the matter everything you have in court, and then let it go when you leave. It sounds simple. It’s not. But it’s survival.

We also went deep into arbitration practice in India. Mr. Nankani has been at the centre of some of the country’s highest-stakes commercial disputes. He explained why India is improving as an arbitration hub, but why our “along the way” approach to preparation still falls short compared to Singapore or Hong Kong. He shared a story about arguing an urgent injunction matter in Hong Kong where he had one matter a day, versus the Indian reality of juggling ten. The difference? Time. Focus. Deep preparation.

And that’s the problem he sees with young lawyers today. The profession rewards instant results now. Social media, quick wins, viral moments. But the craft of lawyering is built on delayed gratification. He started with a ₹100 stipend. He flew economy for years even when he could afford business class, because respect isn’t demanded, it’s earned. He told a story about M.A. Jinnah, who once turned down a client because they showed up late. Stature comes from boundaries, not from bending over backward.

But what really stayed with me was his reflection on criticism. He drew a clear line between analyzing a judgment and attacking a judge. Between disagreeing with reasoning and disrespecting the institution. He believes retired judges have every right to speak publicly, but not to undermine the very court they once served. Social media has blurred those lines, and Mr. Nankai thinks that’s dangerous.

This conversation also gave me a window into a stalwart’s personal journey. He’s a third-generation lawyer. His father influenced him, but didn’t push him. He studied economics, taught it, worked as a radio jockey, and only then chose law. He sees the courtroom as theatre, but the kind where discipline and preparation matter more than performance.

I started this conversation wanting to understand Vikram Nankani the senior advocate. I ended it understanding Vikram Nankani the person. Someone who chose meaning over money. Who learned to switch off without switching out. Who built a practice on integrity, not insecurity. And who still believes there’s always room at the top for those willing to do the work.

If you’re a young lawyer feeling the pressure to perform, to post, to prove yourself constantly, watch this. If you’re wondering whether it’s possible to build a long, respected career without losing your mind or your morals, watch this.

Mr. Vikram Nankani’s career is proof that calm doesn’t mean passive. That restraint doesn’t mean weakness. And that the lawyers who last are the ones who know when to fight, and when to let go.

Thank you for watching.

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