Sacred Games is popular Indian crime thriller on Netflix. Set in Mumbai, it follows jaded police officer Sartaj Singh trying to prevent terrorist attack. At same time, notorious gangster Ganesh Gaitonde shares his life story with Singh. It reveals web of corruption, politics and crime. Stunning visuals, gripping story, talented cast make Sacred Games a global hit. You won’t regret watching it, trust me!

Meet the characters from Sacred Games

Inspector Sartaj Singh

Okay, Sartaj is the kind of cop who makes you want to root for him and then sigh because he’s always two cups of chai and a handful of doubts away from a breakdown — in the best possible way. He’s moral, painfully decent, stubborn about doing the right thing even when it costs him (and sometimes he’s annoyingly naïve, but also sneakily clever when it counts). He carries this weary city-weight on his shoulders, father-issues and all, but there’s a dry humor under the tired eyes that sneaks out when you least expect it. Oh, and he hoards documents like trophies — or maybe that’s just a memory, I can’t remember, but it feels right.

Ganesh Gaitonde

Gaitonde is chaos in a tailored suit, mesmerizingly loud and frighteningly intimate all at once; he builds entire mythologies about himself and then smashes them just to watch the sparks. He’s insanely charismatic, violent, poetic, and completely self-aware of how theatrical he is — like a cult leader who also writes his own press releases. Deep down he’s wounded and insecure (and also kind of a genius at manipulation), which is why he swings between grand visions and petty cruelties — you laugh, you wince, you get pulled in. Also he probably eats samosas at midnight while plotting anarchy, or maybe he hates samosas? Either way, he’s unforgettable.

Parulkar

Parulkar is the bureaucratic spine of the force — measured, career-first, painfully pragmatic and maybe a little too used to sliding things under the table when it keeps the wheels turning. He’s that older cop who knows every rule and also every loophole; he’ll sip his coffee and make decisions that look cold but are oddly efficient, and yes he’s corrupt sometimes but not always in the loud, cartoonish way. He does care about order, in his own quiet, self-preserving fashion, and there’s a weird tenderness you catch sometimes — like he’s not entirely devoid of conscience, even if his conscience has a filing system. Also, I swear he keeps a photograph in his drawer but I’m hazy on who it’s of — could be a cat, could be a past that haunts him.

Zoya Mirza

Zoya is slippery and brilliant and somehow both utterly forthright and suspiciously secretive (in other words, my favourite kind of wildcard). She moves through conversations like she’s rearranging furniture in your head — subtle, incisive, a bit dangerous in the way she notices everything and tells almost nothing. She’s loyal on her own terms, which means you’ll never pin her down, and she has a softness that pops up at weird, inconvenient moments (crying in the car? maybe, or laughing at a private joke that you’ll never hear). Also she probably keeps a tiny notebook full of bad poetry — or is that something I made up? Either way, she’s cool.

Majid

Majid has that low, steady menace that’s more effective than shouting — calm, devout in his own way, and patient enough to let plans ferment for years until they become unavoidable. He’s not flashy but he’s absolutely central, the kind of figure who controls things by not needing to prove anything, and there’s this weirdly spiritual layer to him that makes him feel bigger than a mere gangster. He can be gentle (shockingly) with those he trusts and terrifyingly precise with his enemies, which makes him unpredictable if you don’t know how he ticks. Also, he smells faintly of incense in my head — maybe literally, maybe metaphorically, I don’t know, but it suits him.

Kanta Bai

Kanta Bai is the fierce, no-nonsense matriarch of the underbelly — loud, blunt, fabulously practical, and secretly sentimental (don’t say that out loud, she’ll punch you, then feed you). She runs a world where rules are survival tools; she’s iron-fisted but has this soft spot for certain people that makes her human in a way that keeps slipping out at inconvenient moments. She’s clever, resourceful, and probably keeps a stash of something valuable that nobody suspects (spices? money? a photograph?), plus she tells the best insults like they’re haikus. And yes, she’ll scold you for being dramatic while being wildly dramatic herself — which is honestly part of her charm.