Vikramjit Banerjee, Additional Solicitor General, Off The Record With Sanya Talwar | Full Episode
Editor's note: The weight of calm
There are interviews where you spend most of your time chasing answers. And then there are conversations where, somewhere along the way, you stop thinking about the next question because you’re simply listening. This was one of those conversations.
Like many people, I had encountered Vikramjit Banerjee largely through his public persona, a constitutional lawyer, a government law officer, someone who has been at the centre of many significant legal and political debates over the past decade. Naturally, I expected the conversation to revolve around ideology, constitutional interpretation and public life. It did. But what stayed with me afterwards had very little to do with any of those subjects.
One of the first things that struck me was how unhurried he is. There was no attempt to dominate the room or overwhelm a question with authority. He speaks the way he appears to think, carefully, without unnecessary flourish, and with remarkable composure. In a profession where conviction is often expressed through volume, his calmness feels almost counter-cultural.
At one point, while speaking about advocacy, he narrated how someone once advised him to become more aggressive in court. He tried. It lasted exactly one hearing before he realised it simply wasn’t who he was. The story drew laughter, but beneath it was a simple truth: authenticity is difficult to fake, especially in a courtroom. Perhaps that’s why his calmness never feels cultivated. It feels lived.
I also came away appreciating how open he was throughout the conversation. We discussed politics, ideology, criticism, power, privilege, social media, first-generation lawyers and constitutional philosophy, subjects that often make public figures retreat behind carefully rehearsed answers. Yet there was no visible attempt to evade uncomfortable questions or to package every response for public consumption. Whether one agrees with his conclusions or not, there was an honesty in the way he arrived at them. That, to me, makes for a far more interesting conversation.
What surprised me the most, however, was his humility. Success has a way of rewriting people’s memories. Many begin to believe that everything they have achieved was inevitable. Vikramjit Banerjee did the opposite. He repeatedly spoke about luck, timing, mentors and opportunities. He acknowledged that there are countless lawyers who are equally capable but never receive the break they deserve. For someone who has reached one of the highest offices a lawyer can aspire to, that admission felt remarkably grounded. But if there is one answer I know I will remember long after this interview, it is what he said about power.
He compared power to a plate in a fine restaurant. You use it while it is placed before you, but you don’t walk away believing it belongs to you. Someone else will be served on the same plate tomorrow. It is such an ordinary image. Yet it captures something extraordinary.
Perhaps that explains why the conversation never felt consumed by ambition, titles or positions. Again and again, it returned to something much larger: perspective. He spoke about understanding different parts of India, about learning from people with whom he may disagree, about reading history, about looking beyond labels, and about recognising that institutions, society and culture shape law as much as statutes do.
I realised, towards the end of our conversation, that despite speaking to someone who occupies an important constitutional office, I wasn’t thinking about the office anymore. I was thinking about temperament.
There is a quiet confidence in people who don’t feel the need to constantly announce themselves. They don’t confuse authority with loudness, or influence with permanence. They carry achievement lightly because they understand that positions change, reputations evolve, and public life is ultimately transient.
Perhaps that is why this conversation felt less like an interview and more like spending an hour with someone who has thought deeply about the world around him, yet remains curious enough to keep questioning it.