At his crusading best while dealing with human rights violations—he handed out unprecedented compensations of Rs 10 lakh to victims and their families—he denies having played into the hands of pro-militant ersatz human rights groups. "All the orders I passed were based on CBI reports," he says. Rising to his defence, lawyer R.S. Sodhi says: "People say he demoralised the Punjab police, fine. What about the fact that they demoralised the citizens of India?" The former judge believes PILs will play an important role in safeguarding the rights of citizens in future. "I do not believe it is being misused. It is the Supreme Court judge who decides whether to act on a PIL or not, so where is the question of arbitrariness?" If nothing else, Singh certainly livened up the social lives of his fellow judges. "Before me, Supreme Court justices used to live in glass houses. It was an unwritten rule that they should not socialise. I broke out of it completely." Soon after he took oath, Singh popped into the Supreme Court Bar Association for a celebratory laddoo. The press frowned. "I will do it again," he told his critics. And he did. Fond of scotch and convivial company, the former judge now plans to spend time reading, writing books, lecturing and setting up an NGO along the lines of Greenpeace. Given his fondness for a chhota peg, it seems odd that he should have chosen to quit Delhi for a kothi in 'dry' Har-yana's posh Panchkula. Alas, he says, it's the only house I've got. But he can easily hop over to Chandigarh for a quick few. Asked about the Punjab chief minister's threat to impose prohibition, he snaps: "It wouldn't work. There would be a bhatti (still) in every house". Law must, after all, be pragmatic.