From Dharamshala’s Government School to High‑Stake Hydropower Deals: The Rise and Questions Surrounding Senior Advocate Keshav Shreedhar

Residents of Shyam Nagar, Dharamshala remember the Shreedhar family as “hard‑working but unassuming.” Keshav’s father taught at the local boys’ school; his mother managed the household. Of the four brothers, two migrated to the United States, while Ashok retired as Chief Engineer in the state Irrigation & Public Health Department, and Keshav stayed back to practice law.

“He was once known to be a good laywer but then a very influential source  who could get any work done ,” recalls a neighbour who asked not to be named. 

Court files show Shreedhar cutting his teeth on service‑matter litigation ,transfers, promotions, and pension disputes. Colleagues say he was diligent but far from affluent.

Those early years saw him share office space, an apartment flat in Shimla with Tarun Shreedhar, the now‑retired Additional Chief Secretary and later Member (Judicial) of the Central Administrative Tribunal. Critics point to that partnership as the seedbed of the “legal‑political network” that would later define Keshav’s career; supporters say it was merely a pragmatic cost‑sharing arrangement.

Around the mid‑2000s, as Himachal Pradesh opened its abundant rivers to private hydroelectric investment, Shreedhar found a niche: liaising for companies navigating land acquisition, environment, and power‑purchase approvals.

Sources in the state secretariat—who insisted on anonymity fearing professional reprisals—identify him as “the go‑to lawyer‑cum‑fixer” for at least Brakel Corporation , K.U. Power Projects Ltd. and others. They allege he leveraged ties with bureaucrats and legislators to unblock stalled clearances.

Several acquaintances describe him, less charitably, as “a broker in black robes.” Those same voices claim he amassed influence within the BJP’s Dhumal faction and lobbied unsuccessfully for the post of Advocate General.

Information  (the authenticity of which is still being independently verified) suggests close contact with three former Chief Justices of the Himachal Pradesh High Court and senior leaders across both the BJP and Congress. The information with us  hint at social familiarity rather than explicit quid pro quo; nonetheless, transparency advocates say that they underscore the revolving‑door dynamic between the bench, bar, and executive in small states.

Critics also point to Shreedhar’s business ties with:

• a Dharamshala‑based entrepreneur jailed in 2011 for alleged money‑laundering linked to the 17th Karmapa’s trust;
   
• a  real‑estate firm once led by a politician who was charged with culpable homicide of a young woman .
• a highly influential broker who stays in NCR and in whose company both Shreedhar and  a former Chief Justice of Himachal Pradesh were Directors.

 Documents and inputs of certain individuals reviewed by this reporter including show repeated references to Shreedhar’s name during the prolonged dispute over the 960 MW Brakel Kinnaur project (2006‑2012). While no court ever indicted him, rival bidders accused an unnamed “legal intermediary” of manipulating evaluation criteria. Three retired officials, now private consultants, assert that intermediary was Shreedhar. He has never publicly addressed the charge.

Analysts say the Shreedhar story illustrates a broader dilemma: b. Hydropower remains Himachal Pradesh’s economic backbone; its regulatory maze virtually ensures middlemen thrive.

“Lawyers like Shreedhar occupy a grey space,” notes  a political‑economy scholar , “They translate policy into profit. The question is  at what cost to public interest?”

As the state eyes a fresh wave of run‑of‑river projects, scrutiny of power brokers is likely to intensify. Whether Keshav Shreedhar’s legacy becomes one of strategic counsel or backroom dealing may ultimately depend on forthcoming Right‑to‑Information disclosures and, perhaps, answers from the man himself.