The real problem was making sure legal meaning survived translation.
Engineers had already built a raw prototype to prove the underlying translation technology worked. What came to me was a single sentence: we can now translate any document between Indian languages. Turning that into a tool judges could trust meant treating legal translation as a different problem than translation.
India's Constitution recognises 22 official languages under the Eighth Schedule. Supreme Court and High Court judgments, by constitutional design, are delivered in English alone. For most people affected by a judgment, the reasoning is written in a language they don't read.
What came to me wasn't a requirement document, it was one sentence: we can now translate any document from any Indian language to any other. That sentence hid the real problem, legal translation isn't word-for-word, and technically correct isn't the same as legally correct.
There was no formal spec to work from, and the underlying technology already existed. The product thinking had to originate the scope from a single sentence and a rough prototype.
The review layer itself: source and target side by side, line by line, with a recommended translation and a direct "need assistance" prompt for the reviewer.
Handing raw machine-translated output straight to a litigant would have been faster to ship and wrong for the domain. Building the review layer in from the start is why the tool could be trusted with actual Supreme Court judgments, and years of continued use since is the proof it held up. The next problem is coverage, sixteen languages is real progress, still a fraction of what's spoken across the country.