When Siddharth stood next to the rustic iron gate of his home, a part of him still yearned to hear the echo of childhood laughter. The Neem tree still cast long shadows in the courtyard, and the antique wooden swing slightly creaked with the wind. However, the walls of Swastik Sadar, which were used to the crackles of love and laughter of cousins, where love used to live, now echoed the unsettling silence of litigation, betrayal.
The house was not just a piece of property, it was a bouquet of sweet memories of childhood, a gift from his Uncle.
A Gift of Memories
Yashwant, Siddharth’s uncle, had raised him like a son after Siddharth lost his father at a young age. Yashwant Uncle never thought of getting married, for he doubted whether another woman would be able to take care of Siddharth. While his cousins visited during holidays, Siddharth had lived in this beautiful house. Siddharth also took great care of Yashwant Uncle, treating him just like his own father. He would cook meals for his Uncle, drive him to the hospital for checkups, and handle the household accounts. This was a course for almost 20 years, until Yashwant took his last breath.
Assessing the uncertainty of life, and his degrading health, Yashwant executed a gift deed in favour of Siddharth, and got the same duly registered. The said gift deed provided for the transfer of ownership of the house to Siddharth. “This house is yours now,” he had said, placing the papers in his hands with pride in his eyes. This did not happen in a discrete manner, but at a family get-together. Everyone knew about the gift deed and transfer of house in favour of Siddharth. Some had even casually congratulated him. Who knew things would take an unexpected turn.
The Unexpected
Yashwant Uncle’s health kept deteriorating, and he left the world on a quiet evening in late December. For Yashwant Uncle, it was supposed to be a peaceful departure to the other world, but everything changed for Siddharth as well. At first, it was quiet – condolences, rituals, the thirteenth day ceremony. Then came the murmurs – “Did he force Yashwant to sign the papers?” “Was he mentally sound when he gave the property away?” “We should all get a share—he raised all of us, didn’t he?”.
The loving family, who used to eat together, sleep together, play together, now accused Siddharth of fraud and coercion. Things did not stop there, but took a sharp turn. They filed a civil suit, challenging the gift deed in favour of Siddharth. They claimed that Yashwant Uncle was not mentally stable when he transferred the property in favour of Siddharth, alleging manipulation.
Homely Warmth Stolen by a Courtroom
Since things led towards the Court, matter reached the District Judge. Siddharth’s advocate produced the registered gift deed, Yashwant Uncle’s medical records, and witnesses, including the family lawyer and neighbors with whom Yashwant had shared his intentions.
The cousins, now plaintiffs, alleged undue influence, questioning Yashwant’s mental capacity to make decisions, despite no history of illness, or any medical evidence. They claimed the gift deed was executed under pressure. The cousins demanded partition of the property, as if it were ancestral. Legally, Yashwant had full rights on the house, since it was his self-acquired property.
The case became a war of paperwork, depositions, and technicalities. Courtroom became a place of face-off, while family WhatsApp groups fell silent, festivals passed without calls. The cousins who could do anything for each other now stood in the Court, giving cold statements like “He never treated us like family once he got the house.”
The Court’s Decision
After five years of hustle, allegations, and unsettling silence came the awaited and most expected verdict. The gift deed was upheld by the Court. The Judgment stated that:
- The transfer of property through a gift deed was voluntary and lawful.
- No evidence of coercion or fraud was presented.
- The plaintiffs had no claim over a self-acquired property validly gifted by the owner.
The Swastik Sadan legally belonged to Siddharth. This was what happened in the Court. Outside, none of his cousins wanted to face Siddharth, not out of guilt but distaste. As he stepped down the stairs, a familiar voice muttered, “Let the law say what it wants. Blood doesn’t betray like this.”
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As per Court case, Siddharth won the case. He still had Swastik Sadan, but love, trust, childhood treasure of relations, those weren’t the things a Court could restore. The Neem tree still grew, but no one gathered beneath it. He lived in Swastik with his wife and daughter, but it had lost its warmth. When someone once asked him whether it was worth the fight, he said with conviction, “It was never about the house. It was about the truth, about the legacy of Yashwant Uncle, who trusted me with his love and life.”
