if there was an option to give this book more than five stars, i would never stop adding the star emoji because this book has blessed me truly. i don't think i understood just how much seeing grief and family represented the way i best understand them through my lived experience in a book would destroy me when i began reading.
as part I closed up, i was already sobbing my eyes out. this book is gloriously written and sabaa tahir (who really never disappoints) grabbed my poor little heartstrings in a chokehold for the entirety of it. each character in this book makes my heart turn with the tragedies they have faced — tragedies which feel near inhumane but which i am unfortunately aware are not far out of the grasp of reality.
this book covers serious and often triggering topics such as drug overdoses, desperateness to keep a dead loved one alive in any way you can, grief in its entire vicious self, a longing for a home you never had, alcholism's impact on family and even the long reach of religion. it does so in a delicate and caring manner. reading misbah's every line of motherly worry and care, salahuddin and noor's every moment of struggle, toufiq's decaying health — it overwhelms you and yet teaches you lessons, it makes you cry and feel and be alive.
i love every one of the characters we meet (except for chacha riaz and the cops). but none more than my darling misbah — a woman whose life story is not uncommon, a woman who reminds me more than anything of my own grandmother. i am a brown daughter living far away from my family and from everybody i have ever known. the guilt she feels, the burden of being stripped your home which she carries — i have it too.
there is a line in the book where noor talks about how a familiar face from your own community, your own blood (no matter who they are) can immediately make you feel less alone. misbah, meri jaan. when she speaks, i feel a deep inner peace find me. her way of showing love through food and chai and shitty pakistani tv shows and soft words spoken in urdu and punjabi — it reminds me of home. i think this was a major reason why i cried truly so so much. i miss home and misbah is the very characterisation of it.
this book truly renders me both speechless with its artistry and overwhelmed with its message and its warmth. miss sabaa tahir, you are an angel and somehow, your book came to me when i needed it the most. 1000000/5 stars, this is my new favourite book. i love it dearly.
as part I closed up, i was already sobbing my eyes out. this book is gloriously written and sabaa tahir (who really never disappoints) grabbed my poor little heartstrings in a chokehold for the entirety of it. each character in this book makes my heart turn with the tragedies they have faced — tragedies which feel near inhumane but which i am unfortunately aware are not far out of the grasp of reality.
this book covers serious and often triggering topics such as drug overdoses, desperateness to keep a dead loved one alive in any way you can, grief in its entire vicious self, a longing for a home you never had, alcholism's impact on family and even the long reach of religion. it does so in a delicate and caring manner. reading misbah's every line of motherly worry and care, salahuddin and noor's every moment of struggle, toufiq's decaying health — it overwhelms you and yet teaches you lessons, it makes you cry and feel and be alive.
i love every one of the characters we meet (except for chacha riaz and the cops). but none more than my darling misbah — a woman whose life story is not uncommon, a woman who reminds me more than anything of my own grandmother. i am a brown daughter living far away from my family and from everybody i have ever known. the guilt she feels, the burden of being stripped your home which she carries — i have it too.
there is a line in the book where noor talks about how a familiar face from your own community, your own blood (no matter who they are) can immediately make you feel less alone. misbah, meri jaan. when she speaks, i feel a deep inner peace find me. her way of showing love through food and chai and shitty pakistani tv shows and soft words spoken in urdu and punjabi — it reminds me of home. i think this was a major reason why i cried truly so so much. i miss home and misbah is the very characterisation of it.
this book truly renders me both speechless with its artistry and overwhelmed with its message and its warmth. miss sabaa tahir, you are an angel and somehow, your book came to me when i needed it the most. 1000000/5 stars, this is my new favourite book. i love it dearly.