The weight of a uniform

In her revealing memoir, former cop Meeran Chadha Borwankar sheds light on her career in the Indian police service, offering insights into the challenges faced by a woman in a male-dominated field

Madam Commissioner: The Extraordinary Life of an Indian Police Chief

Author: Meeran Chadha Borwankar

Publisher: Pan Macmillan

Pages: 296

Price: Rs 499

Public servants who make it to the public eye are either condemned or applauded, both without a larger context, often through isolated instances. A misleading step ahead of journalism, Bollywood creates the heroic, out-of-the-world image of police officers with characters such as Bajirao Singham (2011) or the angry young man from Zanjeer (1973). Meeran Chadha Borwankar, a retired Indian Police Service (IPS) officer from the Maharashtra cadre batch of 1981, has also made it to the news multiple times — for her transfers and promotions, high-profile conflicts, and encounters with criminals and politicians alike. The inspiration behind the 2014 Rani Mukerji film, Mardaani and recently celebrated by the cast of the OTT hit Dahaad (2023), she has had her fair share of the spotlight but remains unfazed by it. In her third book, Madam Commissioner, Ms Borwankar decides to tell the truth about her 36 years in the elite service, setting aside the easy glory and the easier criticism that come with the job.

The only female police trainee in her batch, Ms Borwankar’s journey begins with a “hard and lonely year” in the “secluded, emotionally starved environment of the academy”. Braving excessive physical training and remaking her personality, voice and stature on the way, Ms Borwankar emerges as a leader. Not cutting her long hair short, as was expected of her, would be the first of many system-defying decisions she would make in the varying roles her postings demand. From suburban Nashik and Kolhapur to Mumbai’s cargo terminal, from managing communal tensions in Aurangabad to overseeing white-collar crimes for the Economic Offences Wing at the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI), from handling procedural and field work for Criminal Investigation Department (CID) to chasing highway dacoits in Satara, Ms Borwankar outgrows her apprehensions and walks confidently from one posting to another. The pressure of “politician’s law” and the “yes-men” culture, where merit often suffers, strengthens her resolve and integrity. She proves that “gender is inconsequential” in maintaining law and order.

Ms Borwankar’s career, like any other, had its own highs and lows. At her peak, she became the first woman police commissioner of Pune and Maharashtra in 2010. But controversies with politician Ajit Pawar or then ex-chief of Intelligence Bureau and now India’s National Security Advisor, Ajit Doval, has cost her to some extent. A tryst with Haseena Parker, Dawood Ibrahim’s younger sister, or the gang members of Chhota Rajan also affected her personally. Despite these hindrances, she followed protocol to the letter, whether it entailed ensuring that actor Sanjay Dutt received no special treatment, or setting aside the national hatred for 26/11 terrorist Ajmal Kasab or Yakub Memon of the 1993 bomb blasts.

Ms Borwankar offers honest insights and openly critiques the shortcomings of Indian police and judicial reforms. She maintains that the nexus between politicians, the police, criminals, bureaucrats and private parties could only be fought with citizen collaboration and proper training, adequate resources and infrastructure. She repeatedly calls for the involvement of students, NGOs, and local experts in building a healthy police foundation. Delays in access to and delivery of justice, abysmally low rates of conviction, increasing corruption, the nuisance created by the short sentences of habitual criminals or the rescue and rehabilitation of victims of human trafficking, are some of the reforms on which she focuses. As a writer, Ms Borwankar offers a social, economic and cultural context to the cities, departments or organisations to which she is transferred, adding to the quality of her memoir. A reader will also learn to appreciate the underestimated aspects of an investigation, such as soft-skills or forensics.

Importantly, Madam Commissioner reflects well the struggles of a working woman and a working mother — a tough adjustment, especially for things that men are naturally allowed or even encouraged to pursue. Readers find a glimpse of Ms Borwankar’s personal life even if only as a shadow of her professional life. Her struggles as a woman in a male-dominated force and the compromises she made as a “mom-cop”, such as passing on promotions, are hard to ignore. It is refreshing that Ms Borwankar did not let the ennui of government service get to her. She applied for a Hubert Humphrey fellowship, observed police departments in Minnesota and Chicago, interned with Interpol, completed an executive development programme from University of New England, Australia, and even pursued a law degree in Pune.

Ms Borwankar started her career with few role models; she ended it by becoming one. “The uniform is one of the most powerful tools for social change and justice,” she concludes in her memoir.

The contents of Madam Commissioner may have a movie-like adventurous tone but Ms Borwankar is careful not to glorify the police, choosing to highlight the ground reality of the service instead. Her memoir reminds us of the first IPS officer, Kiren Bedi and her Fearless Governance (2022). The presence of women police officers in India is rising, albeit slowly. By sharing their stories, Ms Borwankar and Ms Bedi could inspire more girls to follow in their footsteps.

The reviewer is a freelance feature writer and reviews books on Instagram @read.dream.repeat