Razia is your typical teenager navigating high school, friendships and parental interference. Her life has been confined to the neighbourhood of Corona in Queens. Her friends are the children of her parent’s friends and family. Her worldview is restricted and is overshadowed by various domestic, social and cultural pressures. Despite this, she struggles to maintain a balanced outlook and tries her hand at being a rebellious teenager though in a very muted way with the help of her best friend, Taslima. When she begins at Stuyvesant, she easily befriends Angela who with her effervescent personality unknowingly guides Razia into knowing herself better. Together they explore New York City and their friendship soon blossoms into a romantic relationship. However, the biggest hurdles for Razia are that it is still the 1980s and the word lesbian is being whispered as if it were an abomination. Also, Razia is a Pakistani American whose Pakistani parents, and the heritage they fiercely uphold, are determined to see that she turns out to be a good, straight, Allah-fearing, namaz-reading, marriage and children ready, perfect Pakistani girl.
The novel is a quintessential coming-of-age as well as a coming-out story of a Muslim girl who has been raised in a closely knit and conservative community. Culture, tradition and religion form central parts of her upbringing and Razia does adhere to it wholeheartedly. However, at the same time she notices the glaring patriarchy and misogyny that is prevalent in many Muslim households. She questions these systems that continue to oppress women and keep them subservient to the men in their families and communities. In a particularly disturbing scene of domestic violence, Razia sees how her otherwise servile mother shows up with remarkable emotional acumen, empathy and support for the victim. However, as much as Razia and her mother understand and love each other, they do find themselves at crossroads when it comes to the question of a woman’s independence and why it’s always conditional and never absolute in the Muslim Pakistani community.
Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion, written by Bushra Rehman, a queer Pakistani American writer, is a very engaging story of a South Asian girl in the late 1980s America discovering her sexuality. The pages are lush with the rich depictions of Muslim culture and traditions and at the same time, the author has juxtaposed it with its strictness, control and blind faith without condemnation or criticism, instead has brought a much needed nuance and sensitivity to the discussion. The author has repeatedly expressed the difference in the perception of the world for Razia’s parents who always think of themselves as Pakistani first and that of Razia, who considers herself to be American first. This hyphenated existence invariably becomes a part of Razia’s psyche and personality which the world around her refuses to acknowledge and Rehman has deftly woven that conflict into the narrative.
The story is deliberately slow-paced and it chooses to meander into Razia’s daily routine and the nature of her friendships. We become witness to her gradual transformation and simultaneous buildup of angst, frustration and anxiety. However, the climax did feel antithetical to the rest of the book because it felt unintentionally fast-paced, chaotic and a tad superfluous. As a reader, I remained sceptical and surprised at Angela’s approach as she dealt with Razia’s meltdown. Their relationship which formed the core of Razia’s rebellious awakening felt inconsequential in the final moments. Also, I felt a wave of incompleteness wash over me and I was left with numerous unanswered questions. I hope there will be a sequel to Razia’s shenanigans.
Even with its uneven ending, Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion, is well worth reading for its tender, layered exploration of faith, belonging and queer Muslim girlhood.
~ JUST A GAY BOY. 🌈🌈
the shiny diaries 