Technically, you could say, what about on Fridays, Adam? At the mosque, after prayers, when everyone says salaam and hugs one another, you included? As soon as we got in the car and she turned the ignition, Mom began. I never thought we’d have this sort of trouble with you, Zayneb. A threat against your teacher? A knife?

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.” His laptop was open, an iPad beside it. My bet was that Mike was going to start the analysis as soon as Fencer answered him. I'm so so mixed on this one. To the point that I didn't even want to leave a review because I just don't know how to put my thoughts together about why this didn't work. But lets give it a go. I love Adam and Zayneb as characters so much! I think the author does a really great job of developing them—they both have very distinctive personalities and voices: Adam is super sweet and caring, and learning how to deal with his mother’s death along with his diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. And Zayneb is headstrong and stubborn, with a passion for justice and ensuring that bad people don’t get away with doing bad things. We didn’t bring you up like this. I’m ashamed. Mom’s voice was small, which meant it was going to be the crying kind of lecture.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!). Yesterday, in social science, he rubbed his hands together before passing out his carefully chosen handout: Zayneb is jaded beyond her years because of the discrimination she faces, she’s also angry at said discriminations and refuses to hide it, she’s very vocal about everything that’s wrong with the world and feels the pain, not only hers but also that of every injustice, very deeply and wants to DO something about it. She is strong, confident and so so open about her feelings and that was very refreshing to read. She was also unapologetic and very sure in her Muslim-ness, and nothing could sway her from that, not even the world’s hatred. I was angry, sad, and happy for her all at once. Zayneb is Trini-Pakistani (her Trini side being of West Indian descent) and through her Pakistani side, Ali was able to broach the topic of the victims to the wars that are raging in West Asia (mainly Pakistan for…obvious reasons) as we speak, without erasing the US’ role in all those lost lives, and destroyed lands. And how even as a diaspora kid, Zayneb was still grieving for her people. And this is an element I didn’t expect to find in the story. Adam and Zayneb meet in the airport on the way to Doha, where Adam notices that they have the same type of journal, in which they record marvels and oddities. It seems fate is pushing them together when they find themselves intertwined in each other's lives. 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.

This has great representation, though I can't verify the accuracy behind either the Muslim or MS rep, but as it's #ownvoices for the former, I can hope the author was equally careful with the latter, too. But while I appreciated both, and though I found the situations to be charged with the rage and sadness they deserved, I didn't love the characters or the way the story was told. Fencer jumped off the desk and awarded us with his you-got-it stance: hands on his corduroy hips, legs apart, face beaming. Yes, or, to put it more precisely, you can say that it looks like the majority of those countries follow Islam. Anything else? Zee-naab? Mom and Dad looked at each other and exchanged weird expressions, in between amusement and disbelief. Then Mom spoke. The only flight you can take has a layover in London. I’m a bit worried about that.I honestly never thought I'd ever get the chance to read a book like this. My heart is so full and I'm so grateful to have been given the chance to read and review this. I think every Muslim will appreciate the effort that was put into this. I hope this book also helps change the perception of Muslims in the world right now. Because I read this and I felt represented like never before. It brings tears to my eyes just typing this. I want the world to read this book and see things from our point of view. See the way we live and how it's so unlike what is shown on the media today. At times, this book felt like the middle of a conversation that I have with my Muslim friends about my frustration. Like Ali had listened in on my frustrations, all of the things that plague the lives of Muslims nowadays, and written them down into a book.

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.After repeatedly asking Why would you do something like this? and getting nothing out of me, Kerr called Mom. She promptly left the travel agency where she works. Love from A to Z is one of the most unapologetically Muslim books that I’ve ever read, and I’m so glad it exists. It resonated in chambers of my heart I’d never known existed. There is still an expansiveness in my chest that reminds me of how important voices like these are, for readers like us. This feeling is a language all its own: to reach and find, to be reached for and found, to belong to a mutual certainty.