It’s been a minute since Madhav Mishra shuffled back onto our screens in his oversized coat, but honestly, the impact of Criminal Justice Season 3—subtitled Adhura Sach—is still being felt across the Indian streaming landscape. If you've been following the franchise, you know the drill. It’s never just about the crime. It’s about the grinding, slow-moving gears of a legal system that feels designed to swallow people whole.
This time around, the stakes felt different. Personal.
When the show dropped on Disney+ Hotstar, people were expecting another remake of a British or American property, much like the first season was based on the BBC's Criminal Justice and HBO’s The Night Of. But the third installment took a sharp turn into original territory. It focused on the death of Zara Ahuja, a teenage superstar, and the immediate suspicion that fell on her brother, Mukul. It’s a mess. A loud, public, social-media-fueled mess.
What Criminal Justice Season 3 Actually Got Right About the Law
The thing about legal dramas is that they usually make the courtroom look like a high-speed chess match. In reality? It’s a lot of waiting. It’s paperwork. It’s lawyers like Madhav Mishra, played with a sort of weary brilliance by Pankaj Tripathi, trying to find a bathroom or a decent snack between hearings.
What makes this season stand out is the exploration of the Juvenile Justice Act. It’s a specific, often misunderstood part of the Indian legal framework.
Mukul isn't just a suspect; he's a minor. Or at least, the tension hinges on how he’s treated because of his age. The show dives deep into the "preliminary assessment" process. Under Section 15 of the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act, 2015, a Juvenile Justice Board can decide if a child aged between 16 and 18 should be tried as an adult for a heinous offense. This isn't just TV drama; it’s a real-world legal tightrope that was heavily amended after the 2012 Delhi gang-rape case.
Shweta Basu Prasad joins the fray as the public prosecutor, Lekha, and she’s the perfect foil to Mishra. While Mishra is all about the "human" element and finding the adhura sach (the incomplete truth), Lekha represents the clinical, often cold efficiency of the state. Their back-and-forth isn't just about winning a case. It’s a philosophical debate about whether the law is meant to punish or to understand.
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The Social Media Trial and the Zara Ahuja Case
We have to talk about the "Trial by Media."
In the show, the public has decided Mukul is guilty before the police even finish the first report. We see this constantly in real life. Think back to the intense media scrutiny in cases like the Sushant Singh Rajput investigation or the Aarushi Talwar case. The show mirrors that frantic, judgmental energy of news cycles and Twitter (X) threads.
It highlights a scary truth: once the public labels you a monster, the facts barely matter.
Mukul’s character is intentionally unlikable at first. He’s abrasive. He has a history of drug use. He’s aggressive. This is a clever writing choice because it forces the audience to confront their own biases. Do we only want justice for "perfect" victims? If a kid is a "brat," does he deserve to be thrown into a system that will likely break him?
Breaking Down the Cast and Their Impact
Pankaj Tripathi is the soul of this show. Period.
Without his portrayal of Madhav Mishra, Criminal Justice Season 3 might have just been another gritty crime thriller. He brings this "common man" energy that grounds the whole thing. He’s not a superhero. He has a wife who is trying to start a beauty business. He struggles with his bills. He’s basically all of us, just with a law degree and a very specific set of morals.
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- Pankaj Tripathi as Madhav Mishra: The man just knows how to use silence.
- Shweta Basu Prasad as Lekha: Sharp, focused, and a formidable opponent.
- Purab Kohli and Swastika Mukherjee: They play the grieving, fractured parents. Their performances show the ugly side of wealth and how it can’t actually buy protection from tragedy.
- Aditya Gupta as Mukul: He had the hardest job. He had to be sympathetic while being incredibly frustrating.
The chemistry—or lack thereof—between the family members is what drives the subtext. You see a family that is wealthy in terms of money but utterly bankrupt in terms of communication. Zara was the golden girl, the "brand," and Mukul was the problem child. When the brand dies, the family doesn't just grieve; they collapse.
Technical Realism vs. Creative Liberty
Is every bit of it 100% accurate? Probably not. It's TV.
For instance, the speed at which some evidence is processed or the way lawyers can sometimes wander around scenes is a bit "Hollywood" (or Bollywood). However, the depiction of the observation homes and the psychological profiling of the suspects feels much more authentic than your average police procedural.
The showrunners worked with legal consultants to ensure the terminology wasn't nonsense. When they talk about Section 302 of the IPC (Indian Penal Code) for murder, or the specifics of bail applications for minors, they are hitting the right notes. This matters because the Indian audience is becoming increasingly savvy about how their rights work.
The Lingering Questions of Adhura Sach
The subtitle "The Incomplete Truth" is the whole point.
By the time you get to the finale, you realize that "winning" a case doesn't mean everything is fixed. The truth is often messy and leaves everyone a little bit scarred. In Criminal Justice Season 3, the resolution isn't a neat bow. It leaves you thinking about the role of parenting in the digital age.
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How much do parents actually know about their kids?
The show suggests: not much. Zara was living a double life. Mukul was hiding in plain sight. The parents were managing a "family image" instead of raising children. This social commentary is what separates the series from a standard "whodunnit."
Why You Should Care if You Haven't Watched It
If you’re into shows like Mindhunter or The Night Of, this is in that vein but with a distinctly Indian heartbeat. It’s slow-burn. It requires patience.
It also challenges the idea that the police are either all-powerful or all-corrupt. Here, they are portrayed as overworked and often taking the path of least resistance. If there's an easy suspect, they'll take him. Not necessarily out of malice, but because the system is under immense pressure to "solve" cases for the cameras.
Moving Beyond the Screen: Real-World Insights
Watching a show like Criminal Justice Season 3 should actually make you more aware of your own legal environment. It’s not just entertainment; it’s a reflection of the hurdles faced by ordinary people when they get caught in the legal net.
If you find yourself interested in the themes raised by the show, here are a few ways to engage with the reality of the situation:
- Read the Juvenile Justice Act: Seriously. Just a summary. It’s fascinating to see how the law attempts to balance rehabilitation with accountability. It is a much more progressive document than people realize, though its implementation is where things get tricky.
- Support Legal Aid: The Madhav Mishras of the world are rare. Most people who can't afford top-tier lawyers end up with "Legal Aid" counsel who are often buried under hundreds of cases. Organizations like the National Legal Services Authority (NALSA) in India work on this, and understanding their mission is eye-opening.
- Critical Media Consumption: Next time a high-profile crime hits the news, watch the coverage. Note how often "sources" are cited without names. Note how the "villain" is framed before a trial even begins. The show warns us against this for a reason.
- Digital Safety for Teens: The show is a wake-up call about the dark side of internet fame. If you have kids or younger siblings, the "Zara Ahuja" storyline is a great (if tragic) conversation starter about privacy and the pressures of being "online."
The beauty of the Criminal Justice series is that it doesn't offer easy answers. It doesn't tell you that the system is perfect or that it’s completely broken. It just shows you the gaps. It shows you the adhura sach.
And honestly? That’s enough to keep us waiting for Season 4.