Sabba Khan trained to be an architect (to her Asian parents this was hardly impressive: going into a man's world and yet not to a field 'prestigious' enough, such as medicine) and this is obvious to see in her unsettling use of space - transparent and hyperreal drawings of her homes, the font size used throughout so tiny that it could only be used for labelling floor plans, multiple panels of Escher-like impossible constructions, vast pages left entirely untouched except for pencil thin lines. And yet, even such empty spaces bear her mark, courtesy her fantastic use of a sombre white+salmon colour palette for backgrounds, with deeper shades of salmon for the foreground, and all of it rendered on paper that resembles cardboard or pulp with artificial blemishes.
If the style by itself wasn't remarkable enough (it was, I bought a copy in amazement and without looking further!), the story - despite being a familiar one: a 2nd generation immigrant finding her identity split between proud, segregated/marginalised parents and she having to shape her own: between choosing either of those or assimilating/integrating - a tale relatable for every person who undergoes such dramatic change in their environment - is rendered in rich detail, with insights that I'm convinced can only be achieved by the subset of comic book authors who frequent shrinks.
Sabba's father is depicted as an upright and stalwart public figure but one who nonetheless abused his wife, her mother in turn assumed the role of 'the narcissist' to her obedient, compliant, 'co-dependant' young(er) daughter. As a child Sabba was the anti-thesis to her older sister and felt compelled to comply with (among other things) the strict set of religious standards in Islam, with its unmistakable public markers for women. Later in life Sabba is able to assess this relationship with perspective, stops sharing her room with her mother (at the ripe young age of ... 23!), question religious dogmas, and (alarmingly vindictive and possibly indicative of unconscious/residual Islamophobia for woke-types(?)) eventually decides to give up on the hijab, to initial chagrin but eventual acceptance (even of her 2 piece bikini swimsuit at a public beach (but they chose a secluded spot)) of her mother. Her illustration of this internal struggle and rationalisation of past and future decisions makes for an educative and absorbing read, while she finding love in later life is heart-warming.
The other illuminating bit for me was that about 2/3rds of Pakistani immigrants to the UK trace their journey to a single monumental decision - that of the building of the Mangla dam on the Indus (which, incidentally, is close to the border with India). More than 28k hectares - an area comparable to 7 boroughs of present day London - were inundated in this project. The displaced people, high on the commonwealth dream, found themselves unmoored in an alien land, struggled to find meaningful work outside of their predominantly agrarian and related skills, and were relegated to jobs deemed unfit to all but the most desperate white men. That the members of this displaced community, yanked out from their flooded homes brutally and abruptly, finding themselves (e.g.) navigating the dark underbelly of London as tube drivers and coming back to a home culture which was no champion of the rights of women created less than ideal environments for holistic growth of their immigrant and racially different kids is hardly surprising. And yet Khan has synthesized all this with her indomitable creative spirit, obsessive precision that is doubtless the product of her training as an architect, glorious smatterings of pan-Indian culture (bollywood VHS rental stores and Mohammad Rafi songs), and a heart which has matured to kindness. A thoroughly fulfilling read and definitely recommended!