Pal does herself injustice when she calls herself a woman of action, not reflection. Sure, much of the drama in the book comes out of her fearlessness. Encountering a man who is looking to assassinate her, she invites him and his fellow goons home, offers them dinner and persuades them to leave her alone.
When the police subjects her to a smear campaign, she gets journalists to witness her making an offering at the temple and praying aloud for the mental health of the DGP. When she gets fed up with commuting, she moves in with her male colleague in another town, flouting any gossip. But the actions she undertakes (including the adoption of the gang's name and uniform, her critique of micro-credit schemes or the peace in her marriage) come out of years of strategising. What Pal thinks of the moral fibre of her husband or men as a vast lump varies from page to page in an abundance of truisms. It would have been annoying in a less gripping book. Here it remains an odd rhetorical tic.
Nisha Susan is a journalist; she led the Pink Chaddi Campaign