If you have ever watched Indian TV in the 2000s and 2010s, chances are you have heard the thunderous command “Daya, darwaza tod do!” But behind that mighty kick and door-smashing might is a man of calm thoughts, deep reflections, and a fascinating journey — Dayanand Shetty, better known as Inspector Daya from CID.
We caught up with him for a candid conversation that mixed nostalgia, cultural commentary, and a peek into life beyond the famous doors. Here’s what he had to say:
Q: Sir, everyone knows you as Inspector Daya, the man with the powerful slap and stronger presence. But before acting, you were into sports, right? How did that shift happen?
Dayanand Shetty: Yes, not many people know that I was actually a shot put and discus throw champion before acting happened. I was doing quite well — even reached state-level ranking early on. But then came a persistent knee injury that made it difficult to continue. Surprisingly, the moment I stopped competing, my knee pain vanished. I believe it was destiny redirecting me. Acting was never the plan, but it seems it was written.
And funny enough — all that training gave me serious hand speed. So when I slap someone on-screen in CID, it is not just acting — that velocity is real! It just happened organically. The physicality was part of the role, and because I had raw strength from my sports background (and genes — my father was India’s strongest man for seven years!), it all came naturally. The “Darwaza Tod do” bit became a running gag — but even with all the action, I was always careful. I only ever hit someone by accident once in 21 years of CID.
Q: You’ve been a part of one of the longest-running shows in Indian television. How do you see the evolution of content over the years?
Dayanand: Oh, it’s changed drastically. If you are spiritually inclined, then you listen to Kalyug. In Kalyug, things move very fast.
In the CID days, we shot long, detailed scenes that allowed viewers to connect with the story. Now, content is trimmed into fast, attention-grabbing snippets — 15 seconds here, 30 seconds there. It’s all about speed. Even crime shows have become more about flashy editing than smart investigation.
But it’s not just the content that’s changed — people have too. We’re always glued to our phones. Someone may be sitting next to us sharing something important, and we’re scrolling Instagram. The patience to watch, to listen, to engage — that’s fading. It reflects in what we create, and how we consume it.
Q: You told me about the content shift change. So, do you think there are positive changes today?
Dayanand: “Mostly negative changes, positive changes are very few. We are moving towards destruction.”
Yes, we’ve made progress technically — better cameras, digital editing, and even tools to enhance how someone looks or sounds. But all of that has also made things too easy. The hunger to improve, the raw effort that built great performers — it’s missing now. Earlier, actors worked with minimal resources and still delivered magic. Today, everything looks perfect, but the emotion often feels hollow. The craft is getting replaced by convenience.
Q: On that note, how do you manage social media and technology with your daughter?
Dayanand: I’m glad to say she is not much into social media. Initially, she tried Instagram, like all kids, but later she dropped it. Social media, if not handled well, can lead to anxiety and even depression. Imagine feeling worthless just because your reel didn’t get likes? That’s not real life.
Q: You mentioned Malayalam films — why do they appeal to you more than mainstream Bollywood these days?
Dayanand: Malayalam cinema focuses on storytelling. You’ll see the same actors in lead roles in one film, and in supporting roles in another — without ego. There’s no “superstar” baggage. Concept is king there. In Bollywood, we still rely too much on stardom. But stars alone can’t carry a weak script anymore.
Q: Has the rise of South Indian cinema affected Hindi films? What’s your view on this shift?
Dayanand: “South Indian films built a loyal following, especially dubbed versions,” long before COVID. I remember people in UP and Bihar loving Nagarjuna or Allu Arjun dubbed films. There’s a larger-than-life appeal, patriotism, strong values — and that resonates. Today, Bollywood is borrowing from that energy. Even in visuals, temples and traditional values are portrayed more prominently. It’s a shift in awareness, culturally and cinematically.
Q: Speaking of changes, what do you think is better today than before? And what’s worse?
Dayanand: Technically, things are much easier. Voice modulation, CGI, quick edits — all very efficient. But we’ve lost the charm and dedication of the earlier era. Before, actors would stand in sunlight for hours just to match lighting. Now everything’s post-production. Also, fake content is rising. People break rules, shoot a video, and then play the victim — just for likes. That’s dangerous and dishonest.
Q: You’ve played mostly cop roles. Did you ever wish to try something completely different — like a villain, maybe?
Dayanand: “By God’s grace, I did not get any free time.” CID kept me completely booked. We shot 25–30 days a month. Double shifts! There was no time left. But now, yes — I’m open to it. I’m currently working on a Netflix show called Single Papa. It’s a fresh role and a good change of pace. Also doing a lot of ad work — five or six endorsements a month. The grind is different now, but enjoyable.
From smashing doors to smashing stereotypes, Dayanand Shetty is proof that strength isn’t just physical — it’s in how you adapt, stay grounded, and keep growing. Behind the slap that made India flinch is a thoughtful man who values sincerity over stardom, story over spectacle.
And if you’re planning to write a script for him — make sure the villain doesn’t die.
