Isn't it just heartwarming when a serial killer gets treated with the same kindness as a child who stole a candy bar? Chandrakant Jha, not just any man but a man who befriends, kills, and dismembers his victims, seems to be one of the lucky few who can boast of having received parole not once, not twice, but a whopping five times! And let's not forget the six furloughs. As we give you this generous count, hold onto your seats because Delhi HC has decided that Jha deserved yet another 90-day parole. Their reason? Well, apparently, "satisfactory behaviour." One has to wonder if we're rewarding grade schoolers for not drawing on the walls or convicted murderers.

Born in Ghosai in the Madhepura district of Bihar in 1967, Chandrakant Jha is no stranger to the dark alleys of crime. Between 1998 and 2007, west Delhi bore witness to Jha's chilling crimes. With 18 victims under his belt, he was infamously crowned 'The Butcher of Delhi.' His occupation? A hawker in Delhi's weekly bazaars. Quite the stark contrast, wouldn't you say?

On the 16th of August, a decision that many might find quite "liberal", a single judge bench of the Delhi High Court, under Justice Rajnish Bhatnagar, handed Jha another 90-day parole. The grounds for this decision were based on the fact that he has served over 15 years in jail, and his oh-so-satisfactory behaviour over the last three years. It's almost as if they're saying, "Good job for not being a menace in the past three years, here's a break for you!"

The court, in its profound wisdom, noted, “The conduct of the petitioner is satisfactory, he has also been released on parole on five occasions and furlough on seven occasions and there is no allegation that the petitioner had misused his liberty. Therefore, this Court considers it apposite to allow the present petition.” Let's just hope this isn't another classic case of being too lenient, too soon.

To ensure things stay on track, the convict had to submit a personal bond of Rs. 25,000 and provide two more sureties of the same amount, all to the satisfaction of the ever-watchful jail superintendent. He's further ordered to maintain an active mobile phone and is restricted from gallivanting outside the city. And while he's got to report to the local police station every third day, at least they've been kind enough to not keep him waiting for more than an hour. After all, a serial killer's time is precious, right?

But wait, there's a twist! The noble cause behind this parole request? Jha needs to play matchmaker for his oldest daughter. His defence attorney pleaded that with four daughters at home and no other male family members, it was Jha's solemn duty to find a suitable husband for his eldest. After all, his wife can't possibly handle such grave responsibilities alone.

One can't help but wonder, in a world where leniency towards such heinous criminals seems all too common, where do we draw the line?

Ah, the ties of family and society. It's these bonds, these connections, that often pull at our heartstrings, making us do unimaginable things. And it seems Chandrakant Jha’s attorney wants us to believe this. She elegantly pointed out, “He has not been released in the last 3 years, and thus, it has become extremely essential for him to be released to re-establish social ties with his family.” Indeed, who wouldn’t feel the urge to rekindle family ties after such a 'brief' hiatus?

Contrastingly, the State, grounded in cold hard facts, begs to differ. Their argument paints a slightly darker, albeit realistic, picture. They point towards Chandrakant's colorful criminal record, emphasizing his involvement in not one, not two, but three proven murders. And they, quite sarcastically, add that his behaviour isn't precisely the gold standard. Their concern? That Chandrakant might just play truant and violate the terms of his parole.

But who exactly is this man, Chandrakant Jha? Why does his name send shivers down the spine of many in Delhi?

Born in the somewhat obscure village of Ghosai in Bihar's Madhepura district in 1967, Jha’s life story is far from ordinary. His 'achievements' include befriending innocent souls only to end their lives and dismembering their bodies. Earning the chilling title, 'The Butcher of Delhi', Jha has left a trail of 18 victims in his wake. All these gruesome acts were carried out in West Delhi between 1998 and 2007. His cover? A simple hawker in Delhi's bustling weekly bazaars.

The initiation of this reign of terror was in 1998. But luck was initially on his side, and a lack of evidence saw him walk free from jail in 2002. The consequence? A series of killings that would horrify any city. Starting with Shekar and Umesh, Jha went on a rampage. Guddu in 2005, Amit in 2006, and then, not satisfied, he took the lives of Upender and Dalip in 2007.

Painting a picture of a helper, he would befriend migrant workers, primarily from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, guiding them in their quest for work. However, these bonds of friendship were shallow and fragile. Minor squabbles over seemingly innocent topics like theft, dietary choices, or mere lies, were enough to push Jha over the edge. His modus operandi was nothing short of horror. Strangling his victims, he would then tauntingly scatter dismembered body parts around the city, even going as far as leaving them outside Tihar Jail. These 'gifts' often came with notes, a brazen challenge to the police to try and capture him.

The million-dollar question remains - is the temporary re-establishment of familial ties worth the potential risk to society? Where do we, as a society, draw the line between compassion and caution?

Justice can be a tricky thing. The balance between rehabilitation and punishment is ever delicate, especially when dealing with criminals whose actions go beyond the pale. Chandrakant Jha's story is a testament to this conundrum.

In February 2013, the hammer of justice came down hard on Jha, finding him guilty on three counts of murder. His deeds earned him two death sentences and a life imprisonment that echoed the gravity of his crimes: imprisonment until his last breath. However, the gears of the judiciary turned again, and on 27 January 2016, the high court chose to modify the initial verdict. The death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment for the "remainder of his natural life," with the caveat of no remission. This decision underscored the belief that he needed to be "emphatically and adequately punished" for his heinous acts.

In 2007, a grim discovery was made — the headless body of Dilip. The location? Eerily close to Tihar Jail. And in February 2013, Jha was slapped with a life sentence until death for this very crime. It's almost as if Tihar Jail's vicinity was his favorite dumping ground, a morbid signature of sorts.

The trial judge, while condemning him for this particular crime, had a sense of déjà vu. The judge had previously sentenced Jha to death for another chillingly similar crime, deeming it one of the "rarest of rare cases." The brutality, the absolute lack of remorse, highlighted a terrifying truth: Jha might be incapable of change. Another victim, Upender, suffered a fate similar to Dilip's in 2007. Jha was handed a death sentence for this crime, the hallmark of which was once again a headless corpse left near Tihar Jail.

Jha's personal life is no less tumultuous. He tried the institution of marriage twice, with the first attempt ending within a year. With his second wife, he fathered four daughters, yet he chose to live a life mostly detached from them. A curious decision for someone who recently sought parole on the premise of familial duties.

To those intrigued by the twisted minds of criminals, Chandrakant Jha is more than just a name. His infamy reached a broader audience with the Netflix series titled 'Indian Predator: The Butcher of Delhi,' chronicling his crimes. It paints a chilling picture of a man who, under the facade of a simple hawker, carried out acts that would haunt the nightmares of many.

So, as we delve deeper into the abyss of Chandrakant Jha's life and crimes, one can't help but ponder: how does society grapple with the darkness that lurks in its midst?