Arya Samaj Court Marriage Jaffrabad & Maujpur

Quick answer: Four earlier pages here said that a statute hands a dead person’s rights to his legal representative and never defines the words. This is the law that does. Section 2(11) of the Code of Civil Procedure, 1908: a legal representative is “a person who in law represents the estate of a deceased person, and includes any person who intermeddles with the estate of the deceased” — wider than “heir”, inclusive rather than exhaustive. Then Order XXII. Rule 1 is the reassurance: “The death of a plaintiff or defendant shall not cause the suit to abate if the right to sue survives.” Rule 3(1) is the catch: the Court acts “on an application made in that behalf” — somebody has to apply, and it must be the legal representative. Rule 3(2) is the consequence: “Where within the time limited by law no application is made… the suit shall abate”, and the defendant’s costs may be awarded “to be recovered from the estate of the deceased plaintiff”. And Rule 9(1) makes it permanent: “no fresh suit shall be brought on the same cause of action.” Worst of all, Rule 5: where it is disputed who the legal representative is, “such question shall be determined by the Court” — and its proviso lets an Appellate Court direct a subordinate Court “to try the question” on evidence. A certificate wins nothing. It keeps who-she-is from becoming a trial inside the case, while a clock nobody mentioned is running. We do not state that clock on this page, on purpose — Order XXII says only “within the time limited by law”, the period sits in other legislation, and a number taken off a website is how claims are lost. A ceremony here in 2004 already married you under section 7; only the entry is missing, with no cut-off. Ceremony ₹5,100, with registration ₹7,100, a wedding already held ₹6,000, civil route ₹15,000. We are not advocates: no court, no pleading, no Order XXII application, no limitation advice, no estates or probate, no witnesses — and nothing charged for any of it.

The Definition Four of Our Pages Have Pointed At

Jaffrabad, Maujpur, Welcome, Brahmpuri, Kardampuri, Babarpur: lanes eight feet across, buildings four and five storeys on plots the size of a room, the scrap and dismantling trade at one end of it and small workshops at the other. Among the densest ground in the country, and among the most litigated — not big litigation, but constant: a recovery suit over goods supplied, a tenancy matter, a boundary, a partition, a money claim against a man who stopped answering.

So this page is about something that has come up on four earlier pages of this website and been handed off every time.

Over and over we have written that a statute gives a dead man's rights to his “legal representative” and never says who that is. The Partnership Act does it four times. Motor vehicle legislation does it. Consumer legislation does it. Each time we have said the same thing: the category belongs to another body of law.

This is that other body of law, and it is the Code of Civil Procedure, 1908.

Section 2(11):

“‘legal representative’ means a person who in law represents the estate of a deceased person, and includes any person who intermeddles with the estate of the deceased and where a party sues or is sued in a representative character the person on whom the estate devolves on the death of the party so suing or sued.”

Three things about that definition are worth knowing before anything else on this page.

One — it is not the same thing as “legal heir”, and the Code never uses that phrase here. The test is representing the estate in law, which is wider than being an heir.

Two — it is inclusive, not exhaustive. The word is includes. The definition reaches a person who represents the estate, and then adds two further categories on top rather than narrowing to them.

Three — and this is the one that surprises people — it expressly takes in a person who “intermeddles with the estate of the deceased”. Somebody who takes hold of a dead man's affairs can be treated as his legal representative for the purposes of the Code, whatever his entitlement. That cuts in two directions at once, and in a belt of small suits it cuts both ways regularly.

What this page does not do, and we will say it before we go any further, is apply that definition to anybody. Whether a particular person is a legal representative of a particular deceased person is a question for a court, on the facts, and it has been litigated for a century. We are setting out the words of the definition and the machinery attached to it. We are not advising anybody about a suit, and the rest of this page is written so you can see why that line matters.

The Suit Does Not Die With Him — Until It Does

Attached to that definition is a set of rules that decide what happens to a pending case when a party dies. They are in Order XXII of the Code, headed Death, Marriage and Insolvency of Parties, and they move faster than families expect.

Rule 1 is the reassurance, and it is genuine:

“The death of a plaintiff or defendant shall not cause the suit to abate if the right to sue survives.”

So a case does not evaporate because the man who filed it has died. Where the right to sue survives, the suit stands.

Rule 2 deals with the easy version — several plaintiffs or defendants, and the right to sue survives to or against the survivors alone. Then the Court “shall cause an entry to the effect to be made on the record, and the suit shall proceed at the instance of the surviving plaintiff or plaintiffs, or against the surviving defendant or defendants.” Nothing more is needed.

Rule 3 is the one this page is about. Sub-rule (1):

“Where one of two or more plaintiffs dies and the right to sue does not survive to the surviving plaintiff or plaintiffs alone, or a sole plaintiff or sole surviving plaintiff dies and the right to the sue survives, the Court, on an application made in that behalf, shall cause the legal representative of the deceased plaintiff to be made a party and shall proceed with the suit.”

Read the words “on an application made in that behalf”. The Court does not do this of its own motion. Somebody has to apply. And the person who has to apply, and be accepted, is the legal representative.

Then sub-rule (2), which is the sentence this entire page exists for:

“Where within the time limited by law no application is made under sub-rule (1), the suit shall abate so far as the deceased plaintiff is concerned, and, on the application of the defendant, the Court may award to him the costs which he may have incurred in defending the suit, to be recovered from the estate of the deceased plaintiff.”

Two consequences in one sentence, and both of them land on the family. The suit abates — it is over. And the other side may be awarded its costs, recoverable from the dead man's estate. A household that does nothing does not merely fail to win. It can end up paying.

Rule 4 mirrors all of this for a dead defendant. Sub-rule (1) again requires an application to bring the legal representative on record. Sub-rule (2) is a protection worth knowing: “Any person so made a party may make any defence appropriate to his character as legal representative of the deceased defendant.” And sub-rule (3): “Where within the time limited by law no application is made under sub-rule (1), the suit shall abate as against the deceased defendant.”

So the structure is symmetrical, and it is unforgiving in the same way on both sides. The case survives the death. It does not survive the silence.

“No Fresh Suit Shall Be Brought on the Same Cause of Action”

If abatement were merely a setback, this page would be a smaller matter than it is. Rule 9 is what makes it permanent.

Sub-rule (1):

“Where a suit abates or is dismissed under this Order, no fresh suit shall be brought on the same cause of action.”

That is the whole weight of this page in thirteen words. The claim is not postponed. It is not weakened. The door closes on that cause of action, and the Code says so in terms.

There is a way back, and it is narrow. Sub-rule (2):

“The plaintiff or the person claiming to be the legal representative of a deceased plaintiff or the assignee or the receiver in the case of an insolvent plaintiff may apply for an Order to set aside the abatement or dismissal; and if it is proved that he was prevented by any sufficient cause from continuing the suit, the Court shall set aside the abatement or dismissal upon such terms as to costs or otherwise as it thinks fit.”

Notice the phrasing: “the person claiming to be the legal representative”. At that stage she does not have to have been accepted as one — she may apply as a person claiming to be. But she still has to prove sufficient cause. And “we could not establish who she was” is not obviously a sufficient cause when the thing that would have established it was available for a few thousand rupees at any point in the preceding thirty years.

And then Rule 5, which is where the whole argument of this website lands:

“Where a question arises as to whether any person is or is not the legal representative of a deceased plaintiff or a deceased defendant, such question shall be determined by the Court: Provided that where such question arises before an Appellate Court, that Court may, before determining the question, direct any subordinate Court to try the question and to return the records together with evidence, if any, recorded at such trial, its findings and reasons therefor, and the Appellate Court may take the same into consideration in determining the question.”

Read what that proviso describes. Where the question arises on appeal, the Court may send it down to a subordinate Court to try the question, take evidence, and return findings and reasons. Who the legal representative is can become a trial of its own, with evidence recorded, inside the case about something else entirely.

That is the most precise answer this website has to the question of what a marriage certificate is worth. Not that it wins anything. That it keeps the question of who she is from becoming a trial within a trial — while a clock nobody told the family about is running.

His wife she is, and has been from the day the rites were performed. By section 7 of the Hindu Marriage Act, 1955, performing the customary rites of either side is itself the act that solemnises a marriage, so a wedding in these lanes in 2004, or back in the district before the family came, married them that year, and nothing since has unmade it. What she lacks is the document that would let her walk into a registry on a Monday and be on the record by the hearing, instead of becoming an issue to be tried.

And it remains available at any time, at a price that has never moved. A ceremony from any earlier year can be put on the register now — no time limit was ever imposed, so none has expired, and our late registration page sets out each step. The delay costs one of exactly two figures under Delhi's 2014 Order: ₹500 where the filing falls inside the second stretch of sixty days, ₹1,000 once beyond it, each of which the ADM or the DM may waive. Twenty years late is the same figure as two months late.

Read This Before the Rest: What We Are Not

This page quotes the Code that governs civil suits, so the boundary has to be stated here rather than at the bottom, and stated hard.

We are not advocates and we do not practise law. Nobody at this office appears in any court, files any application, drafts any pleading, or acts for anybody in any proceeding. We do not make applications under Order XXII. We do not bring a legal representative on record. We do not apply to set aside an abatement. We do not advise on whether a right to sue survives, on who a legal representative is, on what sufficient cause means, or on anything that has happened or might happen in a case.

And we will not tell you your deadline. Order XXII says “within the time limited by law” — it does not itself fix the period. That period is set by separate legislation on limitation, and this page deliberately does not state a number. If somebody has died with a case pending, the only correct response is to put it in front of an advocate today, and to take the period from the advocate and not from a website. A figure read off a page like this one, applied to the wrong kind of proceeding, is exactly how a claim gets lost.

Nor do we touch succession. No estates, no succession certificates, no letters of administration, no probate, no property, no partition. No money is taken for any of the above, at any price, and we have no arrangement with anybody who offers it.

What this office does is two things: it performs the Arya Samaj ceremony, and it gets marriages entered on the government register.

Then why print Order XXII at all? Because four earlier pages on this website said that the word legal representative belongs to another body of law, and a reader is entitled to see what that body of law actually does with it — which is to put the question to a court, under a clock, with a permanent bar at the end of it. Standing at the front of that chain is a marriage, and putting a marriage on the register is the only thing this page sells.

The Clock Nobody Mentions, and the One Excuse the Code Writes Down

There is one sub-rule in Order XXII that tells you how the Code itself thinks about families who were simply not told. It is worth setting out, because it shows both the mercy available and how narrow it is.

Rule 4 sub-rule (5) deals with a plaintiff who did not know a defendant had died. In substance: where the plaintiff was ignorant of the death and for that reason could not apply within the period the limitation legislation specifies, so that the suit has abated, and he then applies late both to set aside the abatement and for his application to be admitted under the section of that Act which allows a late application for sufficient cause, the Court “shall… have due regard to the fact of such ignorance, if proved”.

Three things follow from that, and they are the practical substance of this section.

One — the Code anticipates that people do not find out in time. It writes ignorance of a death into the rules as something a Court must have due regard to. That is an unusual admission for a procedural code to make.

Two — the ignorance has to be proved, and it is ignorance of the death. Not ignorance of the rule. Not ignorance of the deadline. Not difficulty in assembling documents. The sub-rule is about not knowing the man had died.

Three — it runs the other way round from the case this page is about. Sub-rule (5) helps a plaintiff who did not know his opponent had died. There is no matching sub-rule for a widow who knew perfectly well that her husband had died and could not establish, in the weeks after his funeral, that she was his legal representative. Her route is the general one in Rule 9(2) — apply to set aside, and prove sufficient cause.

Rule 9(3) attaches the late-application provision of the limitation legislation to such applications. We describe it rather than quote it, for a reason worth printing: the published copies we read differ on which limitation statute that sub-rule names — one gives the 1877 Act, as the Code originally did, and the point has been overtaken by later legislation. Nothing on this page depends on it, and anybody who needs to rely on it needs an advocate rather than our reading of it.

And the Explanation at the end of Rule 9 is worth a line, because it is the one piece of good news in the whole Order: in substance, nothing in the rule bars a defence in a later suit based on the facts that constituted the cause of action in the suit that abated. The bar in sub-rule (1) is on bringing a fresh suit. It is not a bar on defending one with the same facts.

Forty-Two Pages, and the Same Sentence Every Time

This website has now set out provisions from more than thirty unrelated statutes, and the pattern has stopped being interesting and become simply the fact of the matter.

Across every field we have looked at, Parliament attaches something of real value to being a spouse, a dependant, an heir or a representative — and then says nothing whatever about how that is to be shown.

Welfare law for the elderly fastens the maintenance duty onto whichever relative would inherit, leaving heirship to be worked out elsewhere. Railway legislation reorders its whole dependant list by whether a dead passenger had married. A labour statute lets a union's fund pay a member's dependants on his death, defines the word nowhere, and sets up no procedure at all. Commercial law hands a dead partner's option and his share of the surplus to his representatives, four times over, without a definition. Acquisition law builds its household around his or her spouse. A statute for the city's unauthorised colonies carries recognition out to their legal heirs and halts. Gratuity, provident funds, pensions, insurance, rent control, workmen's compensation: each puts something into a wife's hands and none says what the man across the counter should look at.

And here, at the end of that chain, is the Code that all of them were pointing at. It supplies the definition the others left out — and then it does three things none of them do. It makes the question justiciable: Rule 5 says a court shall determine it, and may order a trial of it. It puts the question under a clock: an application has to be made within the time limited by law. And it attaches a permanent consequence to missing it: no fresh suit on the same cause of action.

So the Code is not the villain of this page. It is the only honest participant. Every other statute on this site leaves the question hanging and lets a clerk resolve it informally in a room. The Code at least says plainly that the question exists, that a court will decide it, and what it costs to be late.

Which produces the sharpest version of the argument this business has to make. Nothing we sell affects the merits of anybody's case. What a marriage on the register does is keep the identity of the person bringing it from becoming the case. In a belt where a suit over three lakh rupees of supplied goods is an ordinary matter and the man who filed it is fifty-eight, that is not an abstract benefit.

And the timing is the whole of it. The register is open on an ordinary working day for anybody who walks in with identity, age and an address. It is not open in the fortnight after a funeral, to a widow, against a clock, in front of a court that has been asked to try the question of who she is.

The Provisions, in One Place

Everything above, collected. The middle column gives the Code's own words except where a row says otherwise.

And one limit covers every row: these are provisions of a procedural code and of the marriage Acts, each serving its own purposes. No row tells you whether any right to sue survives, whether any person is a legal representative, what period applies to any application, whether any cause is sufficient, or what any court would decide. The number of days is not on this page on purpose.

What These Lanes Hold, and the Short List the Registry Wants

Households here keep paper carefully, because in a belt of small disputes paper is what people have instead of leverage.

An ordinary file contains a thick bundle of bill books and supply slips, a diary of who owes what, a rent receipt book going back years, a photocopied sale agreement for a room on the second floor, two Aadhaar cards, a ration card listing nine people, and — in a household that has ever been in a case — a bundle of court papers with a case number on the cover. Not one document in that bundle states that the two adults in the house are married to each other.

The court papers deserve their own paragraph, because this is the one belt where we have to say it. A cause-title naming a man, an address in a plaint, a vakalatnama, an order sheet: all of that is a record of a proceeding. None of it establishes who his legal representative is, and Rule 5 exists precisely because that question is separate. Keep the papers, keep them in order, and keep the case number somewhere a family member can find it — but do not mistake a bundle about a case for a document about a marriage.

Set against that bundle, the registry wants three particulars and stops there: who each of you is, what age each of you is, and where each of you is in fact living. Nothing beyond those. No case is mentioned. No court is informed. No advocate has to be involved, no opponent learns anything, and nothing in any pending proceeding is touched or disclosed by a marriage being entered on a register.

Address is where this belt gets stuck, and the reason is physical. Four households on one staircase, one electricity meter, a lane with a number everybody writes differently, and the rent receipt in the name of a man who sold the floor in 2011. The sequence that works: secure one truthful document in a living applicant's own name for the address actually occupied, then bring the rest up to match it — bank first, Aadhaar after, electoral roll last. Where every paper in the building names somebody else, the statutory route to a first document in your own name is on our Deoli and Khanpur page; the whole chain starting from nothing at all is on our Laxmi Nagar page.

Count on weeks for that chain, not days. It is the most useful sentence here for anybody working towards a date — and on this page it carries more weight than usual, because the one situation in which weeks are not available is the situation Order XXII describes.

Spellings are the other habitual delay. In a belt where papers have been made in a village, in a Delhi bank and in a court file, a single name routinely exists in three forms. The problem is clerical and the fix is to choose one and bring the rest to it. Send us every version; we will tell you which to build on, free, in a few minutes. And on this page there is a specific reason to care: a document whose spelling does not match the papers it will be produced alongside is a document that invites exactly the inquiry it was obtained to avoid.

Every offer to have a paper made up should be refused, and in this belt that goes double. A backdated agreement, an affidavit drafted to say what somebody thinks is needed, a receipt for a tenancy nobody had. In a household whose other documents may end up on a court file, a manufactured one is not a shortcut — it is the thing an opponent is hoping to find. Everything a marriage file needs here can be put together honestly, and usually in a single afternoon.

Send photographs before anybody shuts a shop or misses a shift. WhatsApp, at any hour, in any order. It costs nothing, takes about ten minutes, and it tells you which three papers out of your forty are the ones that matter.

Delhi, or the District Behind the Family

Two questions get tangled together here, and untangling them is worth five minutes.

Where did the ceremony take place? Settled, and nothing moves it. A wedding in these lanes puts the solemnisation in Delhi. A wedding in the family's district puts it there, in whichever year it happened.

And where is each of you living at present? That is answered by the life actually being led, not by a village a family names when asked where it is from. Same staircase since 2004, children at the school down the lane: that is a Delhi household. Neither the age of the tenancy nor the name on the meter changes it.

Most households here get Delhi for both answers, and no decision arises.

The genuine question is the familiar one in a belt built by migration: the wedding happened in the district, and the couple came afterwards. Two considerations decide it. The address you occupy today; and, looking forward twenty or thirty years, the place where this paper will have to be produced and the person who will be producing it. Where the work, the rooms, the school and — on this page, importantly — the courts that might one day see it are all in Delhi, the Delhi register is the right one. Where the household's real centre has stayed in the district, that is the answer instead.

You will get our view on the telephone before a rupee has changed hands, the occasions when being straight costs us the job included.

And a point that follows directly from Rule 5. Where relatives, land or a case sit in another state, the instinct is to register twice. Do not. A single entry has effect in every state of the Union, and the constitutional words behind that are set out on our Badarpur page. Two entries give an opponent two documents to put side by side and ask questions about — and the one thing you want, in a proceeding where a court may be asked to try the question of who you are, is a single record that says one thing.

Two Witnesses Where Everybody Is a Neighbour and Some Are Opponents

Flatly, since the role is far smaller than the worry. Two men come, stand where the officer puts them, and put their names to two statements: that the couple in front of him are the couple the papers concern, and that the ceremony happened. Neither promises anything, neither carries any liability afterwards, and neither is asked about it again. Each arrives with two documents in his own name — one with his photograph, one establishing where he lives. Nothing is filed in advance. Who is eligible is set out on our witnesses page.

The difficulty specific to these lanes is proximity. Everybody is a neighbour, and in a belt of small disputes a fair number of neighbours have been, or will be, on the other side of something. The man across the lane is the easiest witness to find and may in fifteen years be the man whose own interest is served by not remembering clearly.

So choose somebody with no possible stake. A relative from outside the belt. Somebody from the family's own district. A friend who has never had any dealing with your trade, your landlord, your tenants or your suppliers. A witness whose answer in twenty years cannot be characterised by anybody as self-serving is worth considerably more than a convenient one.

Set down more detail about him than appears needed. Whichever spelling appears on his papers. An address back in the home district, with the district written out, that will reach him long after this one has new occupants. And a telephone number belonging to somebody other than him. Those three lines are the difference between a man who can be reached in 2046 and a blank where corroboration should be.

No part of this is purchasable here. There is no price at which this office supplies a witness, and anybody offering you one deserves an immediate refusal. A signature from a man who was never in the room is a defect somebody chose to build in — and on this page it is worth being blunt about where that defect surfaces: in a proceeding, under cross-examination, in front of a court that has been asked to decide exactly that question.

Where It Should Live, and Who Else Should Know

Three certified copies, and in this belt the reasoning is particular. One at home. One with family outside the belt — somebody whose address is not on the same staircase and whose interests are not entangled with anybody's here. And one with a relative in the home district, who is not going anywhere and has nothing to gain from anything.

And the step that belongs only on this page: tell somebody competent where it is, and tell them while there is no emergency. A wife. An adult child. The nephew who handles the family's paperwork. Say the actual place out loud, twice, and say it on an ordinary evening. The whole subject of this page is a clock that starts running at a funeral, and a document nobody can locate is, for those weeks, a document that does not exist.

In that first week, set down three particulars on a sheet of paper and park it away from the certificate: which office put the document out, what date its entry carries, and the serial the register assigned to it. With those in hand, obtaining a duplicate years afterwards is one form at a counter. Without them, a relative is turning over registers looking for two names against a year nobody is certain of.

Take a photograph of it, then check that photograph opens on her handset and not only on yours, and pass a copy to the relative outside the belt.

And read it through, line by line, on the day it reaches you — both Aadhaar cards lying open next to it, not working from recollection. The spellings get the longest look, and here against a particular benchmark: check them against any court papers the household already has, because those are the papers this certificate may one day have to sit next to. After the spellings: both fathers' names in the form each man writes himself, the two dates of birth against whichever age document went in, the date of the rites, the pair of addresses, and the register's serial. Caught now, an error is a form and a short wait. Caught by an opponent's advocate, it is a question put to a court under Rule 5.

The Office, and Why We Print No Name

Not one office is named anywhere on this website, and the reason is practical. Jurisdiction follows the address in the form it is actually written; the city rearranged its sub-divisional map across 2026; and a name printed here could be the wrong one by the time a family had spent a day on it. Read the address to us exactly as the Aadhaar has it and we will find out, free, which office it belongs to this month.

Two worries this belt raises, both with short answers. A boundary redrawn after a certificate was issued does nothing to that certificate — it holds, and no step of it is done again. And a register that cannot be found was never destroyed; it travelled with its area to whichever office inherited that area. Where an old entry has gone quiet, the sequence that produces something is on our Mayur Vihar Phase 2 page: a written request to whoever holds the area today, with an RTI held in reserve for the point at which that yields nothing. An application of your own that has merely stopped is a separate matter, taken up on the Lajpat Nagar page, together with Delhi's legislation setting deadlines for notified services and leaving the officer in default compensating the applicant from his own pay.

Jaffrabad, Maujpur and the Lanes Around Them

Ten Things That Go Wrong in These Lanes

One — assuming a case ends when the man who filed it dies. Rule 1 says the opposite where the right to sue survives. The case stands; it is the silence afterwards that kills it.

Two — assuming the court will act by itself. Rule 3(1) requires an application. Nobody on the bench brings a legal representative on record unasked.

Three — treating abatement as a setback. Rule 9(1) bars a fresh suit on the same cause of action. The claim does not come back later.

Four — not knowing the other side can be awarded costs. Rule 3(2) allows the defendant's costs to be recovered from the dead man's estate. Doing nothing can cost money, not just the claim.

Five — taking the number of days off a website. Order XXII says only “within the time limited by law”. The period sits in other legislation, and this page deliberately does not state it. Ask an advocate the same day.

Six — expecting ignorance to be an excuse. The one sub-rule that writes ignorance in is about a plaintiff who did not know a defendant had died, and it has to be proved. There is no matching rule for a family that could not establish who the widow was.

Seven — mistaking a court file for a marriage record. A cause-title, a plaint, a vakalatnama, an order sheet — all records of a proceeding. Rule 5 exists because who the legal representative is remains a separate question.

Eight — picking the neighbour across the lane as a witness. In a belt of small disputes, a fair number of neighbours end up on the other side of something. Choose somebody with no possible stake.

Nine — registering twice because relatives or a case sit in another state. One entry works everywhere. Two give an opponent a pair of documents to put side by side.

Ten — keeping the certificate where only one person knows it is. The clock this page is about starts at a funeral. Say the place out loud, to somebody competent, on an ordinary evening.

What We Charge

Below is every charge this office makes. The fee page carries separate lines for additional certified copies, for putting an incorrect entry right, for apostille and attestation, for the fully managed arrangement, and for the sums the State itself collects.

Whatever the State takes is the State's and never ours, and every rupee of it comes back receipted. The Marriage Clerk's share is ₹100. A further ₹200 attaches to the application itself under the 2014 Order. Going the civil route, the District cashier collects ₹15 more. Where the wedding is an old one, that Order brings in exactly one additional figure — ₹500 while you are inside the second sixty days, ₹1,000 once past them — and the ADM or the DM can waive either outright. Two months behind or twenty years, it is the same number.

A short list of things has no price here whatever is offered. Supplying a witness is not among our services. We will not write a ceremony date into a form for a day nobody lived through. We will not issue anything where only one of you came. We are not advocates and do not practise law: nobody here appears in any court, files any application, drafts any pleading, or acts for anybody in any proceeding. We make no application under Order XXII, bring no legal representative on record, apply to set aside no abatement, and advise on no limitation period — and we will not tell you how many days you have, because that is an advocate's answer and getting it from a website is how claims are lost. Estates, succession certificates, letters of administration, probate, partition and property are all outside this office. We predict nothing about what any court will do. We comment on nobody's caste or community, and conversion is neither suggested nor arranged by us. Where the honest answer is that an advocate today matters more than anything we sell, that is what you will be told on the first call for nothing — and on this page, more than any other on this website, we mean it literally.

Sources, and the Limits of This Page

Sourced — the Code of Civil Procedure, 1908. Section 2(11), the definition of “legal representative”, quoted whole. From Order XXII: Rule 1 and Rule 2, quoted whole; Rule 3, both sub-rules, quoted whole; Rule 4 sub-rules (1), (2) and (3), quoted whole; Rule 5 with its proviso, quoted whole; and Rule 9 sub-rules (1) and (2), quoted whole.

What was confirmed, and against what. Section 2(11) was read in the bare Code as published by the Legislative Department of the Government of India. Rule 3(1) and Rule 3(2) were read in two independent published copies, which gave them in identical words. Rules 1, 2, 4, 5 and 9 were taken from one published copy of the Code, and are quoted as that copy sets them out; a second source agreed with them in substance but did not reproduce the wording. We would rather print that distinction than let a reader assume every quotation here carries the same weight.

Described rather than quoted, and flagged as such above. Rule 4(5), on a plaintiff ignorant of a defendant's death, is summarised rather than reproduced, because its text runs through two limbs and a cross-reference and a compressed quotation would mislead. Rule 9(3) is described for a more specific reason: the published copy we read names the Indian Limitation Act, 1877, as the Code originally did, and that reference has been overtaken by later legislation. We have not resolved which text is current, we have not relied on it, and anybody who needs it needs an advocate rather than our reading. The Explanation to Rule 9 is likewise given in substance.

And one thing deliberately absent. This page does not state the period within which an application under Order XXII must be made. Order XXII says “within the time limited by law” and fixes nothing itself; the period lives in separate limitation legislation which we have not set out and do not quote. That omission is a decision, not an oversight. A period taken off a page like this one and applied to the wrong proceeding is worse than no information at all.

Sourced — the marriage law this page relies on. From the Hindu Marriage Act, 1955: section 7, under which the carrying out of one side's or the other's customary rites solemnises the marriage; section 5(ii), making willingness a condition of validity; and section 8, whose stated object is easier proof of a marriage. From the Special Marriage Act, 1954: section 4, by which a marriage “between any two persons” may be taken down the civil road, bringing along the residence requirement that Act lays down and the month in which a notice can be objected to. Order 8, the ₹200 on an application, the sixty-day measure and both late figures come from Delhi's 2014 Order; the ₹100 and ₹15 charges and the department's own stated turnaround from Delhi Revenue Department publications. Untrue declarations are dealt with by BNS s.236, and the apostille and attestation figures are those the Ministry of External Affairs publishes.

The questions this page cannot answer. Whether any right to sue survives a death. Whether any person is or is not a legal representative within section 2(11). What period applies to any application, in any proceeding, before any forum. Whether any cause is a sufficient cause under Rule 9(2), or whether any ignorance would be given due regard under Rule 4(5). Whether any abatement has occurred, or could be set aside. What any court, at any level, would decide about anything. Estates, succession, probate, partition and property are untouched by anything here, and none of them is work this office does. The office covering a given address is likewise beyond it, since jurisdiction follows the address as written and the map shifted during 2026. Put at its shortest: what is done here is that marriages are performed and marriages are entered on the register. Courts, pleadings, applications, limitation and estates are somewhere else entirely; nobody drawing a wage here goes near them; and none of it is ever charged to anybody. Order XXII appears on this page for one reason. Four earlier pages here said that the words legal representative belong to another body of law — this is that law, and what it does with the question is to hand it to a court, under a clock, with a permanent bar behind it. Keeping that question from ever having to be tried is the only thing we sell. A household with a death and a pending case needs an advocate today, and any woman may have one appointed for her free with her means never inquired into — the provision behind that, and what legal aid stops short of, are both on our Vikaspuri page.

Before You Call

One — roughly which year, and roughly which place, for the ceremony? “Here in the lane, about 2004” or “in the district, before we came” is enough to start. Those two facts settle the route and the charge between them.

Two — if there is a death and a case pending, say that first, before anything else. Not because we can do anything about the case — we cannot, and will not pretend to. We ask because in that one situation the right advice is to end the call with us and ring an advocate, and we would rather find that out in the first minute than the tenth.

Three — keep both Aadhaar cards in front of you and read out the line as printed, not the address either of you would say from memory. Mention every spelling either name has appeared under, and if there are court papers in the house, the spelling used there too.

Ring +91 8376863962. Payment is not raised until three things have been said to you: the route your own facts belong to, our charge for it, and the separate amount the State collects. And where the truthful position is that an advocate matters more today than anything on this price list, that is what you will hear — at no cost for having asked.

Jaffrabad and Maujpur — Your Questions67 Questions Answered