Love from A to Z

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In this case, rest assured that you are free to enjoy the thoughts of Adam and Zayneb shamelessly. They have donated their diaries in the cause of… yes, love… on three conditions. One, that I cut out two incidents (the first involving a stranger’s coffee cup, misplaced, that they both drank from by accident, and the second something I cannot write about here without quaking). Offers readers a look at insults, false assumptions that can be an almost everyday occurrence for young Muslim women. On flight to Doha, woman seated next to Zayneb (muttering things like "bitch" under her breath since she first sat down) sees Zayneb writing in her journal in Arabic, demands to be moved, loudly telling flight attendant she's being threatened. In an odd twist, when Zayneb tries to swim in pool at her aunt's apartment complex in Doha, a man reports her for wearing a modest non-revealing swimsuit. In author's note, Ali relates that these two incidents were based on personal experience. Zayneb tells friends in Indiana about hateful reactions she often gets from feminists who see her hijab as sign of oppression rather than symbol of her faith. Also, air holds the cellular signals that will allow further communication between Kavi, Ayaan, and me. So that we can plot Mr. Fencer’s takedown.) إن شاء الله I also appreciated how through her characters main and side alike, the author showed so many different Muslim experiences. From Zayneb who was born and raised Muslim, to Adam who converted at eleven, including her mom who converted when she got married and his dad when he was grieving his own wife. And I love how all the things that make them the Muslim people they are were thrown so casually, as it should be. What I love so much about this book is how hopeful it is. Zayneb and Adam are both battling adverse circumstances throughout the book–Adam with his MS and Zayneb with the cause and effect of the the blatant racism she’s had to put up with at home and even in Doha. These circumstances often throw them off balance, and it is only by connecting with the other person that they begin to get a different perspective and also grow stronger. Adam learns that the prognosis of his MS doesn’t have to be as bleak as he once thought, and Zayneb learns that she doesn’t have to be ashamed of her anger and passion to fight injustice and racism.

I tilted my head and blinked at her sweater-set self. “Okay.” “Shit. Bitch.” She pretended it was because she couldn’t find her seat-belt slot. “Okay,” I said again, popping headphones on and scrolling on my phone to find the right selection. I turned up the volume and drew the left earphone away from my ear a bit as if adjusting it. A bit of Arabic, a traveling dua, filled the space between Hateful Woman and me. She stared. I smiled. • • • *I know, I know. I hate hateful people was so ironic. But I was born this way. Angry. When my siblings and I were young, my parents had this thing where they liked to sum each of us three kids up by the way we had entered the world. “Sadia had an actual smile on her face. Such a happy baby! Mansoor was calm, serene. And our youngest, Zayneb? She screamed nonstop for hours. A ball of anger!” Dad/Mom would say, laughing when they got to the punch line: me. When I was way younger, I’d get angry at this, their one-dimensional descriptions of us, their reducing us to these simple caricatures, their using me as a punch line. My face would redden, and I’d leave the room, puffing. They’d follow, trying to douse me with excuses for their thoughtlessness. After a while they learned to follow up the punch line with descriptions of my positive qualities. “But Zayneb is the most generous of our kids! Did you know she’s been sponsoring an orphan abroad with her allowance since she was six? He’s two years older than her, and she’s been taking care of him!” They’d beam at preteen me, at my newly developed guarded expression. Then, two years ago, when Mom and Dad had stopped this rudeness, I began not to care that they’d called me an angry baby. Because by then I’d discovered this about myself: I get angry for the right reasons. So I embraced my anger. I was the angry one.On the other hand, because the plot itself was a little bit simple it was a little repetitive. In addition, side characters weren’t that fully formed (for example main character friends). Friends & fellow readers: I have finished writing the book. It is a book full of pain, love, anger, love, joy, and soul -- so much of it being the stuff we Muslims hold inside.

This memory remained a thorn in my side, buried too deep to dig out. My decision to take off my hijab, I had come to realize years later, is in a large part because of what happened that day. When I took off my hijab at 17, I didn’t look closely at why I did it. The whole thing was a non-event: I remember walking into the kitchen and casually announcing my decision to my mom. I remember her laughing and teasing me about it (“well, I didn’t tell you to put it on in the first place, now did I!”). My mom is a hijabi; she told me an anecdote about how she started wearing a hijab at the age of 25, a few months after marrying my dad, and how some people thought my dad might have had something to do with it. My mom grinned at me and said, “your dad had nothing to do with it. I just wanted to—so I did it.” Another virtual hug for the author for writing a love story without preaching the rules of Religion. there was no sex, no kisses and nothing added to sound edgy and cool! (I am throwing shades at another author here ahem ahem!). I was pretty sure no book could top A Very Large Expanse of Sea in my eyes, but holy smokes!! This muslim love story book by this new-to-me author S.K. Ali was cute and beautiful and heartfelt and educational and just overall wholesome. I used to believe that stories like these two would not make an interesting book to read bcs all the restrictions, rules, and laws in Islam. But turns out they’ve brought a lot of crucial injustice against people of colors, of different faith, and others to light. I’m grateful that because of all these #ownvoices books that have been trending these past few years, we’ve all been educated and become more aware and understanding of ‘multicultural’ issues. But maybe Kerr saw my wet eyes. Because suddenly she cleared her throat, and when she next spoke, her voice was calmer. Okay, I said, smiling my smile of deadly politeness. I’d recently learned that smiling calm-evilly in the face of haters, well, stranger haters, gets them more inflamed.Reading this book, a few things came home to me—things I had always known but that had to been buried under the days of my life. It was as if a clawed hand had sunk its talons into my mind, cutting through memories, letting emotion bleed. One memory, in particular, suddenly afflicted me afresh as poignantly as if it happened minutes before.

You may even look around to see if there are witnesses to your peering-and-gulping reading behavior. I don't even know how I came up with the idea of reading this, but I just did and it was a pleasant surprise. An oddity: whatever gives you pause. Like the fact that there are hateful people in the world. Like Zayneb’s teacher, who won’t stop reminding the class how “bad” Muslims are. You mean, Shut up, Zayneb! Don’t make a scene, Zayneb! I put my hand on the door handle. Can I get out? I’ll just walk home like I always do." Families can talk about the racism and bigotry that Zayneb encounters in Love from A to Z. What do you think of how she handles her encounters with the woman on the plane and the man at the pool? What would you have done?Kerr repeated Eat them alive? two times, the second time in a higher-pitched voice, and I pictured Kavi’s face, dark hair parted at the side, thin brown arms crisscrossed over textbooks affixed to her chest, her lips doing that barely there smile she does. It is hard to share such a book with the world. You wonder if it will be "too much" or whether people will connect and understand. He stroked his beard and cleared his throat. Okay, I don’t want you to see this as a reward, but Auntie Natasha is on the phone with Mom. Trying to convince her to let you come earlier. I smiled. She was talking about the online movement our friend Ayaan had recently joined, #EatThemAlive. Its primary function is to take down your regular neighborhood-variety racists and supremacists through Internet sleuthing. But Ayaan is in student council, so she does everything underground. Her way is to collect receipts quietly until she has enough to dismantle someone in a foolproof, methodical manner. Lexile ® HL740L The Lexile reading levels have been certified by the Lexile developer, MetaMetrics®

I so appreciate what S.K. Ali has done. I know I'll be supporting her books from now on and I hope things change for the better in the publishing world as a whole and that our narratives do not become one-sided. Ayaan had alerted me to Fencer before I entered his class this semester. There are only a few Muslims at Alexander Porter High, so we’ve gotten into this looking-out-for-each-other thing.

Summary and Prescription: I enjoyed this book and I loved the messages it try to send! I was not blown away by the writing style but it was not bad at all at the same time. I think it succeeded in creating an accurate representation of Islam in the modern time although it turned a little bit sappy at the end. I recommend this for anyone looking for a great Islam rep! When we first meet Adam, he’s on his way home to Doha from London where he attends university. He’s burdened by the secret he’s kept since October from his dad and little sister: his choice to drop out of school. Clinging to his pragmatic and positive attitude, he’s turned to making and building things as a way to cope with a tough diagnosis. On the plane to Doha, Adam realizes that Zayneb–the cute girl with the vibrant blue hijab he’s instantly drawn to– also has a Marvels and Oddities journal–the very thing that he uses to chronicle his ups and downs and help him cope with everything going on. Zayneb also finds herself drawn to Adam and not only because of his good looks–he offers her an Islamic greeting on the plane.