The Hand on Our Shoulders: Remembering Senior Advocate V. Balan (VB)

Senior Advocate V. Balan, affectionately known as VB of Thalassery, belonged to a generation of distinguished lawyers who shaped the legal profession in Malabar through their scholarship, integrity and commitment to professional ethics. Equally accomplished in civil and criminal law, he was also a mentor who encouraged young advocates to develop their abilities and establish independent careers. 

Marking his death anniversary, advocate Musthafa Zafeer O.V. recalls his formative years in Balan’s chambers, the lessons that shaped his professional life and the generosity with which his senior guided him and his wife, Almana. The tribute is both a personal remembrance and a reflection on the values of mentorship, professional integrity and humanity that Balan represented.

His death anniversary passed quietly yesterday, just as he lived—without fanfare, noise or ostentation.

In the life of every advocate, there is a presence that defines the horizon. For us, that revered mentor, moral compass and lifelong benchmark was Senior Advocate V. Balan—known simply across the Bar as VB of Thalassery.

Nearly forty years have passed since I first entered his chambers in 1987, and thirty-five years since Almana joined, bringing our professional journeys together under his watchful eye. Stepping into his chambers was an initiation into character, intellectual rigour and quiet dignity.

His era was the golden age of the Malabar Bar—graced by legendary doyens and defined by professional excellence rather than the ostentation of modern times. Yet, even among the stalwarts of that generation, VB Sir stood distinctly apart as a consummate master of both civil and criminal law.

Across Thalassery and Kannur, the civil Bar was dominated by towering doyens who practised civil law exclusively—giants like Namboodiripad, Balakrishnan Adiyodi, M. P. Govindan Nambiar, K. T. Raghavan Nambiar, Kunhanandan Nambiar and A. D. Nair, along with respected practitioners like T. A. Ramdas, Balasubrahmaniam and C. Khalid (former District Judge). VB Sir rubbed shoulders with these masters as their equal in complex title suits and intricate property disputes.

Yet, he was just as formidable on the criminal side. In major Sessions trials, he was the defender of choice. Alongside criminal doyens like Senior Advocate Kunhirama Menon, former Advocate General Ratnasingh and M. K. Damodaran (with whom he shared an intense, legendary rivalry), VB dominated criminal practice in Malabar for decades. His ability to command equal respect among the exclusive civil doyens on the one hand and formidable criminal counsel on the other made him a rare, complete lawyer.

For a young law graduate, stepping into the chambers of such a legal colossus was naturally intimidating. Yet, behind that formidable courtroom stature was a mentor of rare patience, generosity and practical wisdom.

I still remember my first day with him as if it were yesterday.

Having enrolled on 22 February 1987, I reported to his chambers in early March. When I stood before him, he looked at me intently over his desk and asked: “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” When I answered yes, he gave me advice that would anchor my life: “Remember one thing… in this profession, money will come slowly.”

When he uttered the word “slowly”, there was a long, deliberate pause—a meaningful silence that conveyed that shortcuts lead to ruin and true stature must be earned, brief by brief, through patience, honesty and hard work. I replied: “Yes, Sir. Understood.”

Barely two weeks later, life tested that understanding.

Around mid-March 1987, an accident victim’s family from my locality approached me—a husband, wife and two children who had been injured in an autorickshaw accident.

Barely two weeks into my legal practice, I had never drafted a pleading and knew nothing about handling a Motor Accidents Claims Tribunal (MACT) matter. Overwhelmed, I told them: “I will speak to my senior, VB Sir. Come to the office, meet him, and he will handle your case.”

When I informed Sir, his response was calm:  “Let them come. Take down their notes and have them sign the Vakalath.” They signed a blank Vakalath, provided the details and left. Relieved, I handed the notes to Sir.

He glanced at them and said: “Now, draft the MACT petition and let me see it.”

For two days, I studied old petitions and pieced together a draft. Sir read through it, striking out sentence after sentence with his red pen until little remained. Then came my first lesson in legal drafting:

“Your English is good,” he observed gently, “but legal language has to be built. Facts must be aligned with law in pleadings. Only facts will not be enough, and only law will not be enough either.” He taught me that a pleading is not an essay; it is a structural bridge in which facts and law lock together with precision.

Then came the defining moment. When I brought the signed blank Vakalath, expecting him to sign it, VB Sir slid it towards me: “Sign and accept it.”

I froze. In the Bar’s hierarchy, juniors often spent years in the shadows, their walk-in clients absorbed under the senior’s banner. Seeing my disbelief, VB Sir said: “This is your client. You will handle this case; my office and I will support you.”

On 22 March 1987—exactly one month after my enrolment—I signed my very first Vakalath.

He never hoarded clients or exploited juniors, believing that nurturing a genuine lawyer required conferring dignity, demanding responsibility and standing behind the junior as a safety net. Above all, he insisted that we become better human beings before striving to become better lawyers.

When Almana joined in 1991, she experienced that same steady guidance. In those days, married couples practising law together were an absolute rarity at the Bar. VB Sir was especially proud of Almana, frequently emphasising how extraordinary it was for a Muslim woman at that time to practise law actively. He often remarked: “Mostly, women lawyers prefer to stay at home after marriage rather than step into the court and grind themselves every day. Especially as a Muslim girl, you taking up this grind and pursuing active litigation is truly exceptional.” In a conservative era and a male-dominated profession, his progressive mentorship gave her immense strength and confidence.

The values we absorbed in his modest office became the moral compass guiding everything we built over the decades—carrying the discipline learned in a quiet Thalassery chamber across oceans and international borders. The reassuring hand that Senior Advocate V. Balan placed on our shoulders nearly four decades ago has never left us. Everything we have achieved carries the quiet power of his mentorship, his values and his enduring blessings.

Sir, your life was a blessing, your guidance an invaluable gift and your memory a treasure we carry forward with immense pride. You remain deeply respected, profoundly missed and forever honoured in every step we take.