CLAT PG Current Affairs — 3 August 2026

Justice Ujjal Bhuyan of the Supreme Court publicly questioned the sealed cover procedure, arguing that greater judicial transparency strengthens constitutional trust and public confidence. He stated that courts must be accountable institutions, not opaque ones. The sealed cover practice allows courts to receive documents from parties without disclosing contents to other litigants, raising due process concerns. Justice Bhuyan's remarks signal a growing judicial consensus questioning this procedure's compatibility with open court principles and natural justice guarantees.

The sealed cover procedure refers to the practice where courts, typically the Supreme Court, receive documents or reports from government agencies or parties in sealed envelopes without sharing their contents with the opposing party or the public. This practice has been used in cases involving national security, CBI investigations, electoral bonds, and sensitive administrative matters.

The core constitutional tension is between Article 19(1)(a) read with open court principles versus executive claims of privilege under Section 123 of the Indian Evidence Act and Article 74(2) which bars inquiry into ministerial advice. Critics argue sealed covers violate the principle of audi alteram partem — no party should be judged on evidence they cannot see or contest.

Justice Bhuyan's intervention is significant because it comes from a sitting judge, elevating what was previously an academic critique into a judicial one. The Supreme Court itself has used sealed covers in cases like the Rafale review petition, Pegasus surveillance matter, and electoral bonds case.

For CLAT PG, the examiner tests whether aspirants understand the procedural principle being challenged, the constitutional provisions in tension, and the landmark judgments where sealed cover was either upheld or questioned. The principle of open justice — that justice must not only be done but seen to be done — is the static doctrine anchoring this news event.

The One Hundred and Sixth Constitutional Amendment Act, 2023, known as the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam, has come into force, guaranteeing one-third reservation for women in the Lok Sabha, State Legislative Assemblies, and the Legislative Assembly of the National Capital Territory of Delhi. Passed by Parliament in September 2023, the Act inserts Articles 330A and 332A into the Constitution. Reservation activates only after the next delimitation exercise following the first Census conducted post-enactment.

The Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam is the 106th Constitutional Amendment and represents the most significant structural change to electoral representation since the 73rd and 74th Amendments introduced local body reservations in 1992. It inserts three key provisions: Article 330A reserves one-third of Lok Sabha seats for women, Article 332A does the same for State Legislative Assemblies including Delhi, and Article 334A sets the operational framework and sunset clause. Critically, the reservation does not activate immediately — it is contingent on two sequential conditions: first, a fresh Census must be conducted, and then a delimitation exercise must be carried out based on that Census. This delayed activation is constitutionally significant and exam-relevant. The reservation includes a sub-reservation for women from Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes within the overall one-third quota. The reserved seats rotate after each delimitation. The reservation operates for fifteen years from activation, mirroring the sunset logic used in Articles 334 (SC/ST political reservation). For CLAT PG aspirants, the key doctrinal question is whether this amendment alters the basic structure — courts have not yet ruled conclusively, but it engages the representation dimension of democracy identified in Indira Gandhi v. Raj Narain. For UPSC aspirants, the amendment's numbered articles, triggering conditions, and comparison with the 73rd/74th Amendments are high-yield testable facts.

The Allahabad High Court upheld life sentences for a father and son convicted of honour killing two minor girls. The court relied on pre- and post-crime conduct as corroborative evidence under the Indian Evidence Act. The judgment reinforces that circumstantial evidence, including behaviour before and after a crime, can establish guilt beyond reasonable doubt even without direct eyewitness testimony. Child welfare and protection from family-perpetrated violence were central to the court's reasoning in sustaining the conviction.

This judgment tests two intersecting legal principles: the evidentiary standard for circumstantial evidence and the doctrine of paramount welfare of the child in cases of family-perpetrated violence.

The court applied the 'pre- and post-crime conduct' rule under the Indian Evidence Act — specifically, conduct of the accused that is relevant to the fact in issue (Section 8, Evidence Act). Conduct evidence is admissible when it is so connected with the fact in issue that it makes the fact more or less probable. In honour killing cases, the absence of grief, concealment of the body, or a fabricated narrative after the killing all become incriminating conduct.

For CLAT PG, the deeper principle is how courts treat child victims when the perpetrators are family members — the very persons ordinarily presumed to act in the child's best interest. The court implicitly invokes the 'welfare of the minor as paramount' doctrine by refusing to treat the family relationship as a mitigating factor. This connects directly to the Juvenile Justice Act, 2015, which defines 'child in need of care and protection' to include children at risk from their own family.

The examiner will likely test whether aspirants can distinguish conduct evidence from confession evidence, and whether they understand that paramountcy of child welfare applies even when the threat originates within the family unit.

Twisha Sharma, an actor and model, was found dead on 12 May 2026 at her matrimonial home in Bhopal, triggering fresh scrutiny of India's dowry prohibition framework. The Dowry Prohibition Act 1961, IPC Section 498A, and Section 304B collectively form the anti-dowry regime, yet conviction rates remain dismally low. Structural failures include poor investigation, evidentiary burdens, misuse allegations diluting enforcement, and weak implementation of the Dowry Prohibition Officers mechanism under Section 8B of the DPA.

India's dowry prohibition regime rests on three interlocking pillars: the Dowry Prohibition Act 1961 (DPA), Section 498A IPC (cruelty by husband/relatives), and Section 304B IPC (dowry death). Despite this framework, the system fails at multiple levels.

**Legislative gaps:** The DPA defines 'dowry' narrowly — only property given as consideration for marriage. Gifts, 'streedhan', and voluntary presents are excluded, creating loopholes. The DPA's maximum punishment is five years imprisonment, a weak deterrent.

**Section 8B failure:** The DPA mandates appointment of Dowry Prohibition Officers at the state level, but most states never filled these posts or rendered them functional. These officers have powers to investigate, collect evidence, and advise victims — but in practice, this mechanism is entirely hollow.

**Section 498A misuse narrative:** The Supreme Court in Arnesh Kumar v. State of Bihar (2014) introduced a checklist before arrest under 498A, effectively creating a procedural shield for accused persons. While intended to prevent misuse, it has emboldened perpetrators and delayed justice for genuine victims.

**Evidentiary burden:** Dowry transactions occur within the domestic sphere with no witnesses. Proving demand is near-impossible when the only witnesses are family members of the accused.

**Section 304B and presumption:** Section 113B of the Indian Evidence Act creates a rebuttable presumption of dowry death if death occurs within seven years of marriage and dowry demand is shown — but courts have applied this inconsistently.

The CLAT PG examiner tests whether you understand the interplay between these provisions, the specific Supreme Court rulings that modified their operation, and what reforms are constitutionally and legislatively possible.

Delhi High Court is set to hear a PIL on August 5 seeking court-directed age verification for children accessing social media in India, which has approximately 350 million social media users. The petition raises questions about child safety, digital rights, and whether judicial intervention can fill a legislative gap in the absence of a specific law mandating age-gating. The PIL tests the boundaries of judicial authority to impose technology-compliance obligations on private platforms through writ jurisdiction.

This PIL sits at the intersection of three exam-critical doctrines: PIL maintainability, child welfare rights under Article 21, and the limits of judicial legislation.

PIL Maintainability Test: The Supreme Court in *Janata Dal v. H.S. Chowdhary* (1992) established that a PIL must involve a public interest element, not a private grievance. Courts additionally examine whether the petitioner has sufficient interest and whether relief sought is judicially enforceable. A PIL asking courts to mandate private platforms to implement age verification must satisfy this threshold — it must show a constitutional right being violated, not merely a policy preference.

Judicial Legislation Concern: Courts are constitutionally barred from legislating. When a PIL asks a court to 'mandate' a specific technical compliance mechanism (age verification), it risks crossing from judicial review into directing executive/legislative action. The Supreme Court in *Vishaka v. State of Rajasthan* created guidelines only because no legislation existed — a precedent directly relevant here since India still lacks a comprehensive children's digital protection law, though the Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023 (DPDPA) addresses parental consent for children under 18.

DPDPA Angle: Section 9 of the DPDPA prohibits processing personal data of children without verifiable parental consent and bans behavioral tracking of minors. The PIL essentially demands judicial enforcement of a statutory obligation already present in DPDPA but not yet operationalized through rules — making this a mandamus question, not a gap-filling question.

For CLAT PG, the examiner will test whether you can distinguish a PIL seeking enforcement of an existing right from one seeking creation of a new obligation, and whether the Vishaka precedent justifies judicial standard-setting in the digital child protection space.