About “C.I.D.” in a few words:

C.I.D. is an Indian crime television series that first aired in 1998 and has since become one of the longest-running shows on Indian television. The series follows the investigations of the Crime Investigation Department (C.I.D.) team as they solve complex crimes and bring criminals to justice. Led by the no-nonsense ACP Pradyuman, the team includes officers like the enthusiastic Daya, the tech-savvy Dr. Salunkhe, and the witty Inspector Abhijeet. C.I.D. has become a household name in India and has a massive fan following.

Meet the characters from C.I.D.

Inspector Pradyuman

Oh man, Pradyuman is that enormous, steady lighthouse of authority — you can practically hear his footsteps before he walks in. He’s stern and paternal and very big on rules, but also does these weird soft moments where he’ll suddenly fuss over a tea cup or give someone a look like he’s memorized their life story. He’s theatrical in a way that sometimes feels like a wink (not always intentionally), and yes he’s the one who keeps the whole team from collapsing into chaos. Little fun fact (or maybe false memory?) — I’m pretty sure he collects stamps and also hates the word “confusion” for reasons nobody can explain.

Senior Inspector Abhijeet

Abhijeet is the calm, logical brain of the squad — methodical, observant, always thinking three steps ahead, and annoyingly consistent about it. He’s patient, rarely ruffled, and somehow reads people with the kind of quiet intensity that makes you want to confess things you didn’t even know were true. He’s also unexpectedly sentimental (he keeps a tiny notebook of quotes) and has this soft spot for bad puns, which makes him human not just robotic. Oh and he likes plain biscuits with his tea — like, an almost ritualistic thing — but will rage quietly if someone messes up the filing.

Senior Inspector Daya

Daya is literal physicality embodied — the muscle and heart and the guy who will literally kick in doors and then apologise for the mess. He’s loud and warm and has this childlike honesty that is both disarming and heroic; he’s the one who’ll rush into danger with a grin and a bad joke. He’s surprisingly tender too (he cries at dogs in commercials, don’t tell him I said that), and also has a weird secret obsession with cooking shows, even though he burns the toast every time. Sometimes he’s clumsy with procedure but brilliant in instinct — like emotions are his superpower and brawn is just a bonus.

Inspector Fredricks

Fredricks is the comic spark who somehow thinks he’s more theatrical than he actually is, and honestly it works — he brings levity and improbable metaphors to grim crime scenes. He’s witty, a bit fussy about his moustache (or maybe it’s a beard? memories blur), and tends to fumble a lot before delivering a surprisingly sharp deduction that no one expected. He’s equal parts showman and surprisingly competent detective, which makes him endlessly endearing and annoyingly useful. Also he keeps a drawer full of colourful socks and insists on quoting Shakespeare in the worst possible moments — but don’t laugh, he’s got a brain.

Dr. R. P. Salunkhe.

The good doctor is the clinical heart — dry, meticulous, and obsessed with tiny details that everyone else would miss (he can identify a fibre in three coffees, probably). He’s all protocol and precision but also low-key droll, with these weirdly affectionate asides about human nature that creep out of him when he least expects to. He’s oddly sentimental about old lab equipment (collects vintage test tubes? maybe) and hums old Bollywood songs while analysing samples, which is both adorable and slightly disconcerting. In short: science-first, but secretly a softie who keeps a very messy notebook full of perfect notes.