Note: This article contains spoilers for Sacred Games Season 2 (Netflix)
From Descartes to Advaita Vedanta, the second season of Netflix’s Sacred Games can accurately be described as a crash course on religious philosophy. Starting right from the second episode, when Dilbagh Singh paraphrases Descartes and asks a vehemently atheist Ganesh Gaitonde, how can one perceive the idea of God if not for God planting it in one’s mind her/himself.
The show also borrows from both, Indian and Mesopotamian literature -- while delivering a sermon at the Ashram, Kalki Koechlin’s Batya talks about Gilgamesh, alluding to the central theme of the Epic: trivial fears that humans often harbor. Much like Gaitonde, Gilgamesh too feared death. In the epic, although Gilgamesh fails to achieve immortality, his quest for the same gives his life meaning.
Guruji, who is a masterclass in acting by Pankaj Tripathi, seems to have borrowed his teachings in sermons from religious-philosophical schools of thought across the world. For instance, the popular saying “Aham Brahmasmi” is borrowed from the Advaita Vedant school, which is often used synonymously with “tat-tvam-asi.” The former means “I am Brahma” and the latter “that thou art.” This school of thought professes non-duality in the soul and the human body and mind.
The cult depicted in Sacred Games season 2 appears to parallel the modus operandi of many similar cults in the world that have gained notoriety. Guruji accurately encapsulates the modern-day cult leader - an overly peaceful demeanor, a (fan) following of people belonging to all walks of society, each of whom he treats alike, and a guarded way of speaking only in metaphors.
The relationship that Gaitonde and Guruji share is special, their connection runs deep and so does their mutual God complex. Both perceive themselves as higher powers of some kind, hurtling the world towards some self-imagined deliverance. The show in its climactic moments, harks back to question the concept of duality: is this town big enough for two Gods?
Guruji’s actions and strategies can be better represented in a game-theoretic form. He is aware of each individual’s possible action set, and acts as a social planner setting out to engineer interactions between them to achieve their own paternalistic goal. For example, Guruji anticipates future interactions between cold-hearted assassin Malcolm and Gaitonde. Issues only come up when there is information asymmetry on his whereabouts, culminating in a violent confrontation that leaves both parties worse off. Similarly, in repeated interactions with a detained suspect, Saif Ali Khan’s Sartaj provides partial information on his brother’s whereabouts in exchange for information on the source of the terrorist plot.
Although full of loopholes and poor technology and logic, the show contains repeated attempts at injecting current social and political commentary into its narrative. For example, given that religious divisions are a recurring theme on the show, there are various references to ongoing Hindu-Muslim conflicts in India. It culminates in several ways: watching Sartaj lose hope as a crowd of Hindu boys lynched an adolescent, continuous processions and public addresses by Bhosale on the dire need to protect cows are a few scenes that speak to the current political debates in India. In propagating and glorifying a bloody solution to the end of such a conflict, the show does well to remain current and prescient in its writing.
All in all, with Guruji as the ultimate mastermind controlling the strings of Bombay’s fate intertwined with Gaitonde’s life, across eight episodes, religion, problematic upbringing, and several hallucinogenic burgundy pills later, through a series of moral dilemmas, social commentary, and violence, Sacred Games provides an interesting mix of philosophy, politics, and economics in its own misanthropic context.
Anchal Khandelwal and Anirudh Tagat
