The Love & Lies of Rukhsana Ali

Apparently, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Bengali girl of marrying age must be in want of a husband.

content warnings: on page rape, domestic abuse, violence, homophobia, racism, death of gay character

My god, this book was beyond depressing.

Rukhsana has her life all figured out, but her super conservative parents have other ideas for her and during the course of the book we are treated to a semi exorcism, an arranged marriage, her parents hitting her and of course the standard denial and shame surrounding her sexuality. I fully understand that this is a reality for Bengali people/Muslims, but for some reason I was expecting this book to be a little bit more upbeat than it actually was. Rukhsana was a likeable enough protagonist though. I just wish we could have stories that aren't quite as sad.

2.5/5

[cw: homophobia, abusive parents]

SpoilerI wasn't sure whether it was the right time for me to read this book due to my personal experience with parents' reactions to my wanting to move and chosen partner, but I kept going because it felt therapeutic to have my poor experience with toxicity in South Asian/Muslim culture validated. Rukhsana's increasing emptiness at her parents' insane actions was heartbreakingly familiar, and I was proud of her when she recognized that her parents' actions were not okay.

Which is why I was so disappointed when, in the last fifty or so pages of the book, after recognizing that she was abused and what her mother was doing was plainly evil, Rukhsana forgives and continues living with them, instead of breaking the generational cycle of abuse the book illustrates through her grandmother's diary (to those interested, children of abuse are often emotionally manipulated to forgive their parents by “flying monkeys” - those who encourage them to give their abusers a tenth chance).

A healed relationship with her parents isn't forbidden, but it requires time and space to heal. Rukhsana was abused, trafficked, and traumatized. She was lied to, had her privacy violated, locked in a room, drugged, and more. Her school counselor, a mandated reporter, would in reality have had to report this to the authorities, not ask her whether that's something she wanted (her saying no doesn't bother me - that is painfully real and speaks to the level of shame South Asian women are made to internalize). Rukhsana's parents were enshrined in the idea of her gayness being absolutely unthinkable, and the instant switch in their behaviors, not because of seeing how much pain and trauma they are putting upon their daughter, but because of witnessing the pain on another family because of their gay son's death, is uncomfortable. That's not what it should take. That's not Rukhsana's pain, that's not Sohail's pain. That's the fear of their own pain.

And there was room for healing! There was room for something really good. Aunty Meena looking for a “good Bengali lesbian” is cute! Taking them to an LQBTQ+ support group was nice! And if done more dexterously, I would've been all over it.

But dexterity is not this book's strong point. Honestly, I don't think I would have continued reading if not for how much I related. The writing is about what one expects from a teen novel, but mostly Rukhsana is a lesbian that just doesn't read like one. I have no idea why she's into Ariana, or even what Ariana's personality is, but I do know how much Rukhsana likes spending time with Sohail, and what he's like. Weird.

But! It's good to have people putting out books like this and normalizing the conversation.