The Supreme Court sent a fierce word to Patanjali, saying it showed no real regret regarding the mercury scandal recently. Dangling slightly an eyebrow and effusing sarcasm, judges inquired if the apology at the newspaper bearing their brand was as ubiquitous as the ads that generated the furor in the first place.
It was the time when the balance of justice and company accountability was making an impact—the harsh collision of both. All could hear the judges whispering the questions into the ears of the lawyer who represented Patanjali; their timing was almost heartbeats.
A judge was quoted saying,No apology is needed to be seen under a microscope.” This indicates their disbelief and mockery towards an apology that is not seen with the naked eye. The implication was clear: Or will the apologies that the company has made be simply text on a page with shady fonts to strike the deal?
Patanjali became a talking point, allowing it to be categorized as the business that faced the question of true regret. If there was a whisper, this apology would be in line with friendly talk. However, had they taken time and apologized with a real sense of commitment, then it would have been a hill that you cannot hide under grass.
The judge’s question, through a series of interviews, was a gripping one, in which the company was challenged to accountability and transparency. One day, when I was a little girl, something happened that told me that, in the court of the people’s opinion, the name is more important than any advertisement.
As the courtroom drama unfolded, the court would seek to verify whether Patanjali’s response would concern a real act of repentance or, instead, the outcome of corporate maneuvering, either gained entirely or lost in the fine print.
