The passing of Senior Advocate ADN Rao on February 26, 2026 has left a profound and echoing silence within the Supreme Court Bar. While many will rightfully celebrate his towering contributions to the evolution of Indian jurisprudence - particularly his mastery of environmental and public law - it would be a daunting task to fully capture the breadth of his professional brilliance.

This reflection, however, seeks to honour a different legacy: the quiet, rich and deeply human touch that Rao carried with him through every corridor and courtroom.

I first observed ADN Rao in the Supreme Court lobby around 2010. As a young lawyer still navigating the complexities of the profession, I watched him move with a calm, understated authority, often surrounded by colleagues seeking his guidance. He was already recognised as one of the pre-eminent practitioners, admired for his sharp legal mind and an incredibly balanced approach.

There is one particular moment that perfectly illustrates the immense respect he commanded. During a session where Rao requested a simple accommodation, a highly esteemed and experienced colleague remarked in open court that there was perhaps no one in that room who could ever say “no” to him. Without a second glance at the brief, the Court granted the request, a rare testament to the absolute credibility and trust he had built over decades. Yet, despite this influence, his manner remained unfailingly courteous; he possessed the rare gift of being firm without ever being offensive, commanding respect without making others feel small.

Though he served as an Advocate-on-Record, Rao was frequently called upon to assist the Court as an arguing counsel, a role he performed with remarkable clarity and poise. His work before the Forest Bench was particularly noted for its composure. Often acting as a friend of the court, he navigated dense environmental questions before demanding benches with a steady hand, offering suggestions that were as reasonable as they were insightful. It was clear to any observer that his commitment to the environment was not merely a professional duty, but an instinctive personal value.

Even for those of us who did not work in his office, his generosity was boundless. I recall approaching him as a young practitioner with requests to file matters through his chamber and each time, he agreed with grace. He would often pause to share fragments of practical wisdom, teaching us how to distinguish between genuine legal urgency and the mere appearance of it. He taught us that effective advocacy required a sense of timing - knowing exactly when to seek the Court’s permission and how to manage the length of one's pleadings. These informal lessons, offered in the busy corridors of the Court, guided many younger practitioners.

In 2011, while working in a neighboring chamber, I gathered the courage to ask Rao for a significant favour. I asked if he would consider mentoring a close friend of mine who had just graduated from law school. Despite the immense pressure on his chamber from clients and senior advocates alike, he accepted the request immediately. At the time, I was just a new face to him. Yet, he simply replied that my friend could start the following month. For that young lawyer, it was a life-changing opportunity - a nurturing experience that eventually helped them blossom into a promising practitioner in the High Courts of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana.

His chamber itself was a remarkable institution of harmony. In a modest space of less than 200 square feet, one could witness three generations of his family working together with seamless respect. Despite the constant bustle of staff and young lawyers, no one ever heard him raise his voice. I remember only once seeing him visibly displeased: a corporate leader had traveled to Delhi just to ask about a case status. Rao gently but firmly noted that the resources spent on such travel were wasteful and could have been better utilised. This wasn't a rebuke of the person, but a reflection of his deep-seated sensitivity to the environment and practical efficiency.

Shortly before the pandemic, I found myself in a significant land dispute where Rao was part of a distinguished team of seniors. Having spotted a technical point on maintainability, I began to argue it from the podium. Though he was the lead counsel, he quietly stepped aside, giving me the floor, an extraordinary act of professional generosity. As I grew perhaps a bit too enthusiastic in my delivery, he reached out and gently tugged my robe.

“You have driven the point,” he whispered softly. “Let the Court process it.”

In that single moment, he taught me an entire lifetime’s worth of advocacy: the power of restraint and the importance of respecting the Court’s rhythm. Such gestures are never forgotten by those starting their journey. We are shaped not just by our formal seniors, but by these quiet, guiding figures who mentor without expectation.

Rao’s life was a beautiful bridge between the capital and his Telugu heritage. Though he grew up in Delhi, he chose to return to his roots for his legal education before returning to build his distinguished career at the Supreme Court.

A devoted follower of Lord Venkateswara, he often shared prasadam from Tirumala with anyone who visited his chamber. The massive gathering of the Bar to pay their final respects was a powerful testament to the affection he had nurtured. At 65, his departure feels far too early. Yet, his legacy continues through his son, who approaches the profession with the same humility, discipline and "first-generation" diligence that defined his father’s life.

For many of us, the memory of Rao remains deeply personal. His impact will endure not just in the cases he won, but in the countless lives he touched with his quiet guidance. The Supreme Court has lost a brilliant lawyer, but more importantly, it has lost a truly fine human being. May his memory continue to light the path for all who had the honour of knowing him.

Shravanth Shanker is an Advocate-on-Record at the Supreme Court of India.