Sneha Jaiswal's Blog, page 254

‘Ray’ Review: Between Retrogressive & Riveting

The 2021 Netflix web-series “Ray” comprises of four stories inspired by the work of Satyajit Ray; Sayantan Mukherjee blends old school sentimentality with 21st century cynicism to offer viewers an artsy mix of riveting and regressive strokes.

Let’s start with the first film in the anthology titled ‘Forget Me Not’, starring Ali Fazal as Ipsit Rama Nair, a 30-something rising entrepreneur who starts to experience memory loss. The build-up is done well, but unfortunately, most viewers will be able to guess the twist would have to do something with actor Shweta Basu Prasad who plays Maggie, Ipsit’s quiet secretary. Also, something just seems a little off about Ipsit’s inability to recall just one particular incident in the beginning. While the acting by the cast is pretty good, the plot weakens as the climax approaches. Everything is all too conveniently explained, and Ipsit’s character is inconsistently written. Without revealing any spoilers, it’s pertinent to mention here that the twist in the tale was a little regressive, both in terms of the way women are represented and how mental health is trivialized. The climax felt underwhelming after the solid build-up to it, even if it made sense in most parts.

Story number two “Bahrupiya” is set in Kolkata and the protagonist is Indrashish Saha (Kay Kay Menon), a make-up enthusiast who holds a boring regular job where he is under-appreciated. Life takes a u-turn for him when he inherits a decent fortune from his grandmother, along with a book on prosthetic-make-up. Instead of putting that money and knowledge to good-use, Saha becomes a toxic individual who disguises himself with prosthetic make-up to lash out at those who wronged him. Things get ugly when he tries to take on a mystic ‘Peer Baba’ who can read faces and fortunes. In a way, ‘Bahrupiya’ is a moral tale about how one must not get carried away with their ego. Throughout this story, the mood is bleak and grim, like Kolkata’s monsoon. But the rain cannot wash Saha’s sins away, so his story has a tragic end. The story felt pointless, because it’s about an unremarkable individual who just goes from being an unloved human to a devious dude doing evil things. It’s hard to feel any emotional connection to the protagonist or pretty much anybody/anything in “Bahrupiya”. Had they instead redeemed Saha in some way, it would have clicked better.

The third tale in the anthology was the clear winner. Titled ‘Hungama Hai Kyon Barpa”, Manoj Bajpai plays Musafir Ali, a compulsive kleptomaniac turned singer. When he runs into Aslam Baig (Gajraj Rao) on a train, from whom he stole something precious ten years ago, he hopes that the former wrestling star doesn’t recognize him, fearing he wouldn’t end his journey alive otherwise. Unlike the first two serious stories, this one is on the comical side of the spectrum, and even though the ghazal maestro role comes across as slightly ill-fitting on Bajpai, he manages to pull it off, largely thanks to his competent co-actor Gajraj Rao, who almost overshadows him as the exuberant old man trapped in his wrestling glory days. The juxtaposition of a poet with a wrestler in itself is a rich trove of laughs. Shot largely inside a train compartment, the simple story and the easy camaraderie between the lead actors makes it an entertaining fare. It has a lot of nostalgic value for Indian viewers who grew up travelling in trains, when talking to absolute unknown strangers like old friends was the most natural thing to do, versus being glued to cellphone screens. The climax is hilarious and completely satisfying, with a fun cameo towards the end by Manoj Pahwa.

Well, we now move on to the last installment of the collection – “Spotlight” and the less said about it, the better. Harshvardhan Kapoor plays pretty much himself – a famous actor who cannot act. He is clearly the weakest link the long cast line-up. It was just plain irritating to watch Kapoor play an insecure brat of a star, who gets worked up when a ‘God-woman’ called Didi comes to live in the same hotel as him, getting all the the media attention instead of him. Although one cannot hold Kapoor at fault completely, because even the plot was very lame. Add a bad script with a mediocre actor and you get an unbearable segment. “Spotlight” was the only one where I actually hit the fast-forward button. Akansha Ranjan Kapoor who plays his girlfriend was also very forgettable in the little screen-time she gets. Radhika Madan who is revealed to be the famous ‘God-woman’ didi really does steal the spotlight in her two minute appearance and does way better acting than both the Kapoors combined. But the climax was just bizarre, the background score jarring and the story didn’t deserve so much screen-time.

It’s a 6/10 from me.

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Listen to episode 29 for more fun movie recommendations.

Fish Upon The Sky – Quick Review

The 2021 Thai series “Fish Upon The Sky” is about two ‘rivals’ falling in love, or so director/screenwriter Golf Sakon Wong would like us to believe. What it really is – a silly, funny, exaggerated drama about a nerdy shy dentist student trying to chase a super-hot medical student, while another cute guy vies for his attention.

Phuwin plays Pattawee, the protagonist, who has a massive crush on Mueang Nan (Mix Sahaphaph) and decides to get a makeover to win his love. But Mueang Nan is always hanging out with another handsome student called Sutthaya (Pond Narawit). And while Pattawee thinks Sutthaya is in love with Meuang Nan and thus his love rival, that’s not quite true. What follows is a humorous, brainless college themed romance with a lot of confusion and fun.

Actor Phuwin looks more like a school-child than a college first-year, but it adds a lot of innocent aura to his character, which really blends well with the naive childlike personality the protagonist has in the series. Pattawee is an intelligent student, but quite dim-witted when it comes to the matters of the heart. What works well with this series is the fact that all the kids are pretty confident about their sexuality. So there is no emotional drama or tension over anybody being gay. Sutthaya is very upfront about his feelings and asks Pattawee to become his boyfriend, but will that happen? That’s really the rest of the story.

There is a sketch-like side-story about Pattawee’s rowdy older brother falling in love with a junior student in college, which serves as comic relief. The makers use a lot of exaggerated tropes to draw out the laughs. For example, just like a lot of other Thai gay series, there are a bunch of ‘BL’ crazy students on the campus that like to ship imaginary couples and start ‘fan pages’ for them. Sutthaya is shown to be a popular student and there are fan pages dedicated to who is next boyfriend or girlfriend could be. His fans literally stalk him constantly to find out more about his personal life and he is not even a celebrity. If this is how students are in colleges these days, it’s pretty crazy.

A lot of viewers might be able to relate to Pattawee’s character, who starts off as a unpopular student with close to no friends, and despite getting a make-over, he continues to suffer from crippling insecurities over his appearance. Amid all the comedy, ‘Fish Upon The Sky’ subtly tackles the issue of peer pressure in the times of Instagram and Facebook Fan Pages. Overall, it’s a cute and light series to watch, with a very underwhelming twist towards the climax which felt very forced. But it ends on a sweet note.

It’s a 6.5/10 from me.

Slow Pokes 1 – Horror Comic Review

If I had to make a list of the worst comics I’ve ever read, this one would definitely be in the top five.
It starts with a bunch of kids on the last day of their high school visiting an animal-
research-center-slash-theme-park. Pun intended. Turns out the place has been running experiments on sloths, the kind that turns them from docile, slow-moving herbivores to feral murderers. When they get loose, what you end up with is one of those bad slasher
movies with ample gore and a bunch of edgy teens thrown in the mix.

Where do I even begin? From my strictly limited understanding of comic book narration,
you can often tell the quality of a comic by its first few panels. The beginning is the most important from a storytelling perspective, especially because it’s pretty much your orientation programme. That’s when you draw the reader in and maybe give them some kind of context about what’s going on. If your beginning is abrupt and legibly jarring,
chances are you’re not making a good first impression. This one begins with the teens
getting off the bus, and the words they utter in the first three panels are packed with slang. The try hard kind of slang that would probably even make you back up and read the whole thing again. A few examples:
“Don’t make me vom.”
“I could be tagging nuts on the school sign right now.”
I get it. They’re hippie teens who probably use ‘sumfink’ and ‘sike’ like they’re part of
the official dictionary. But imagine starting a story with two guys talking like this:
“Say Bob, what’s the deal with the hootscoot, yo?”
“Just the beer, man. It’s rad, and I got two tanks up in my gut.”
“That’s a dopeass way to get kicked out the door, is all.”
Thankfully, it gets better after that. Moving on.
So Carlos A.K.A. fat Daniel LaRusso and his friend LJ get off the bus and that’s when you
get your first look at the park entrance. “Hi. Eden Rare here” a woman wearing glasses
and a white lab coat greets the students on a large screen. Who is she? The owner? Institute Director? Head Researcher? No one knows, and we are never told. All we know is she’s the bigwig in this whole sloth experiment.
And then we have the sloths. For some reason, the animals are on a mission to slaughter just about everything in their vicinity. Not from drug-induced madness, but a very obvious evil intent. They thrust ice cream cones into eyes sockets, wait until you get
close and slash your face before making a dramatic entry, and grin at you while spinning a severed head on their claw like a pro basketballer. Gives you a fair idea of what would happen if Wolverine got off the wrong side of the bed on a Monday morning. I mean, even the text cue for their slashing noise is the word ‘snikt’. I honestly can’t tell if they were supposed to be more funny or more terrifying.
But apart from that one scene with the disemboweled teacher in the bathroom, I didn’t feel my eyes widen when anyone got killed or shredded apart. Maybe because the characters hardly have any ‘character’, or any semblance of relatable emotion. During
the first couple of pages, you have Carlos fawning over this blonde girl and even planning to ask her out. Pretty sure seeing her decapitated head later on would at least evoke a strong reaction in him, at least by virtue of friendship if not infatuation. But no, all he does is run like it was just another random death. And then forget about her and the way she died completely. And this is how almost all character interaction takes place. A bunch of school kids see around two dozen people getting opened up like tin cans, including some they spent a decent amount of school time with, and there’s barely any real sense of dread or trauma in any of them. Almost like this is just another adventure. It even ends with them riding the bus into the sunset, cracking jokes, going
“So what’s everybody doing after high school?”

The comic doesn’t even establish whether it’s supposed to be a horror comedy, so at least there can be some way to excuse this braindead tale.
And that’s the whole problem with the narration. The artwork is actually quite clean and decent, almost enjoyable. But the plot feels like it was written by a group of fifth graders as a hobby project. The worldbuilding is abysmal. Too many rather important details aren’t even clarified or even mentioned in passing. I understand this is just part one of a
potentially larger body of work, but there’s a difference between leaving certain questions unanswered and not bothering to develop the story at all.
In fact, there are too many things I want to touch upon here, but perhaps reviewing it further isn’t really worth my time.

‘I Promised You The Moon’ Review – Sequel Satisfaction

“I Promised You The Moon”, the sequel to “I Told Sunset About You”, a beautiful coming-of-age Thai series, had a lot of expectations riding on it, and director Naruebet Kuno doesn’t disappoint.

Starring Putthipong Assaratanakul AKA Bilkin as Teh and Krit Amnuaydechkorn AKA PP as Oh-aew, this season picks off just a little after where the last one ended. Teh & Oh-aew are boyfriends and spending their last day in Phuket together before they start college in Bangkok.

Over the course of 5 episodes, their relationship undergoes a lot of changes. Starting off with the simple hardships of studying in different colleges. So this time the story focuses more on the subtle struggles of being in a 21st century relationship.

While season two doesn’t have the scenic visual value of old town Phuket and it’s pristine blue waters, the story is much more layered and interesting this time around. In the burgeoning Bangkok, where life is busier and faster, the two find themselves drifting apart. Teh finds himself drawn to a senior and he is having a hard time understanding his feelings, all of which is escalated with Oh-aew’s rapidly changing personality.

In fact, Oh-aew’s character sees a lot of growth, which the actor shoulders beautifully. From a clingy, needy boyfriend who shadows Teh, he slowly becomes more independent and emotionally mature. While some fans may get upset with the two popular leads growing apart, the director captures realities of modern relationships quite well.

While episode 4 felt a little melodramatic, the 5th and final episode compensates for every little flaw that crops up earlier. The background music evokes memories of “I Told Sunset About You” and a lot of emotions are wrapped up in a satisfactory climax.

10 Things I Learnt From LGBTQ Literature

From unique words to aspects of LGBTQ lives that we don’t really think about, queer literature serves as an essential way to understand a lot of things.

In the latest episode of Abstract AF, I talk of ten things I learnt or simply observed about the LGBTQ community. Listen in –

‘Displacement: A Travelogue’ – Book Review

Have you ever experienced anxiety while reading a graphic novel? Well, I have never felt so passively stressed while reading one, so much so that at one point it was confusing – “is it because of the book? or is it because of my life & other worries in general?”.

It was definitely the book.

The book in question is ‘Displacement: A Travelogue’ by Lucy Knisley, which is so not your regular fun travel novel. While Lucy’s art style is very children zine like – colorful, bouncy and cute – the content of her story is quite the opposite. The graphic novel is all about her playing caretaker on a cruise with her grandparents Allen and Phyllis, who are in their 90s because their health is scarily deteriorating. So it was a lot of anxiety inducing content for me, because as a reader, you are constantly worried about the nonagenarians and also for Lucy’s mental health. There are medicines to keep track of, unexpected medical emergencies to be vary of, the possibility of sea-sickness on the cruise and a slightly apathetic staff to add to further frustration.

The story really hits you, especially if you have a grandparent, making you ponder upon your own relationship with them. In the beginning, Lucy wonders what the trip with her grands will be like, if it will be

1. A bonding trip

2. A chance at adventure

3. A depressing insight into the deteriorating health of her grands

4. Comedy gold

5. A frustration fest

6. A worrisome glimpse into decadent first world irresponsible luxury

7. All of the above

It was all of the above minus the ‘comedy gold’. At least I couldn’t get a laugh out of this book. Just like Lucy cannot decide if she has been ‘good’ for offering to take care of her grandparents or ‘vain’ for wanting to be seen as good; as a reader it’s hard to tell if you should feel pity or pride for her efforts. Every night on the cruise, the poor thing returns to her room exhausted from running around her grands and is almost always on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Lucy isn’t exactly very close to either Phyllis or Allen, so there is very little interaction between them, especially due to the fact that the couple is also slowly losing their memories to dementia. Phyllis barely even recognizes her grand-kid. In an attempt to make the reader more familiar with them, we have a parallel story-line where Lucy reads her grandfather’s memoir from his World War II days as a fighter pilot. While for the protagonist it was a great way to re-establish a connection with their grandfather, it came off as a half-heart attempt at making the largely boring and anxiety-inducing travelogue more exciting. We get nothing about Phyllis, except that she was once a strict school teacher.

Nothing much happens in the book, it’s really just a glimpse into the life of any caretaker looking after an old couple, just that this one happens on a boat in the Caribbean. It’s the lively art by the author that manages to keep the reader engaged till the last page.

It’s a 3/5 from me.

Subscribe to our podcast by the same name on YouTube – Abstract AF.

Listen to Episode 15 to discover some great graphic novels.

The Times I Knew I Was Gay – Book Review

“All things gay and beautiful were spilling into my life and changing my hair, my clothes, the books I read, and the way I worked. My excitement and inspiration diminished any fears about what I had lost in those long years of false hetero hell”

Eleanor Crewes

That has to be my favorite quote from the graphic novel ‘The Times I knew I Was Gay’. It’s a memoir by Eleanor Crewes and has a very interesting back-story. It started off as a 10-page zine, with Eleanor biking across London to deliver them to comic-book shops. So what began as a small personal project is now a 300+ pages paperback journey into Crewes life and art.

The author honestly and hilariously draws out her life for us, explaining how she wasn’t even aware of her sexual orientation for most part. So we see a young woman constantly changing boyfriends, going on disappointing dates and hoping that the NEXT ONE would perhaps be ‘Mr Right’ (Or Mr Big in her case – pop culture reference to a character from the show “Sex and the City”). The ignorance, slow realization and eventual denial due to the fear of rejection is relatable and evocative. Anybody who has ever undergone any sort of identity crisis (which should most of us, gay or not) would be able to connect and empathize with the narrator’s quandaries.

I loved the fact that Eleanor has a solid clique of childhood girlfriends throughout her life who are always there for her. The tone of the book is breezy, never getting too emotional and yet it’s able to beautifully convey just how difficult “coming out” is, not just to friends and family, but to your own self. It was almost heart-breaking to read the bits where Crewes is trying to assure herself about her identity, whispering to her room “I am gay”, as if seeking acceptance from the walls she grew up surrounded by.

The artwork is adorable; it’s simple and doodle-like, giving the story a raw fun touch. The story/art is not boxed into regular comic style panels and is spread out like a children’s illustrated book, but it works in favor of the memoir. I feel like every 16-year-old should read this book, so that some of them would possibly not waste an extra six years trying to figure out their identity (Eleanor was 21 when she finally accepted she was a lesbian and started seeing other women).

“The Times I Knew I Was Gay” may be Eleanor Crewes’ coming-out-story, but its theme of finding yourself is universal. It’s the perfect gift for any teen trying to navigate into adulthood in the brutal era of social media, cyber-bullying and online dating. Wrap yourself in a comforter, grab a cup of your favorite beverage and start reading.

My list of authors I would like to hug is slowly growing. It’s a 5/5 from me.

Subscribe to our podcast by the same name on YouTube – Abstract AF.

Listen to Episode 15 to discover some great graphic novels.

Zenobia – Quick Graphic Novel Review

The 2016 graphic novel Zenobia by Mortem Durr & Lars Horneman is about a Syrian refugee girl who finds herself alone in a boat to a safer shore. I don’t really know what to write, because I had some high-expectations from this “award-winning” book, and while it wasn’t exactly disappointing, it didn’t impress me much either.

First off, there are very few words in the story, a Rupi Kaur poetry book has more letters than Zenobia. Although, the artwork in this graphic novel is expansive and beautiful, quite like the work of artists like Raina Telgemeier, who writes & illustrates happier children books.

The story follows Amina, who we first meet in a boat packed with Syrian refugees trying to escape the grim realities of their strife-ridden lives. She then recalls memories of her mother, who teaches Amina to be brave like the legendary Syrian Queen Zenobia, who had rebelled against the Roman emperor. But can the young girl survive the treacherous boat journey?

The trouble with “Zenobia” for me is that it’s too simple for adults and too poignant/metaphorical for kids. Perhaps the best age group for this book would be those between the ages 16-21. I would’ve preferred some more story, not in terms of words, but through more pictures giving us insights into the life of the protagonist. Although, not giving Amina’s family more story conveys a sense of how little the lives of common Syrians matter.

Eoin Colfer’s graphic novel “Illegal” does a more powerful job of telling the story of an immigrant child. Zenobia is a 3/5 for me.

Subscribe to our podcast by the same name on YouTube – Abstract AF.

Listen to Episode 15 to discover some great graphic novels.

More Book Reviews –

Underwater Welder – A Poignant Graphic Novel

Pashmina – Graphic Novel Review

Bloom – Graphic Novel Review

The Magic Fish – Graphic Novel Review

Hey, Kiddo – Graphic Novel Review

‘Fatherhood’ Review – ‘Dude To Dad’ Dramedy Toasting Single Parents

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

The 2021 Netflix film “Fatherhood” directed by Paul Weitz, starring Kevin Hart in the lead role was astutely released on ‘Father’s Day’. The movie is about a widower raising his newborn, while the whole world doubts him. However, it goes a little beyond just being a movie about a single dad bumbling through parenthood.

Kevin Hart plays new dad Matt, who loses his wife just hours after delivery. The story is pretty straightforward and most of the conflict in the plot is right at the beginning – a heartbroken grieving Matt, with family and friends who think he cannot take care of the baby. The maternal grandmother wants him to move back to their home-town so she can help, but the new dad resolves to stay put in the big city and do all he can to raise his child. And he does just that, even if it’s exhausting beyond his wildest dreams. So you have a once ‘immature’ black dude do some serious growing up, clean up shit (literally), work from home and be the mom his daughter couldn’t have.

Hart really puts all his heart into the role and child-actor Melody Hurd is adorable as his feisty little daughter Maddy, who loves playing poker and coffee-flavored ice-creams. The cinematography is simple and clean. It’s really the central protagonists, the sweet little father-daughter moments that keep the viewers invested in this tale. The film is based on the real life story of a NYT bestselling memoir by Matthew Longelin, who lost his wife within 27 hours of delivering their daughter. While the book is supposedly more emotional and poignant, the film adaptation is a drama-comedy of sorts, making it more entertaining.

What really makes “Fatherhood” stand-out is how it indirectly sheds spotlight on the fact that most of responsibility attached to parenthood is imposed on women; it’s the moms who are expected to be taking on majority of the care-giving, while it really should be a 50:50 job between a couple. And even though that has been slowly changing in the last few decades, men still are considered ‘incapable’ of bringing up a child by themselves. There’s a dialogue in the film where Matt asks his boss what is it that men don’t have to be considered adequate for the job (of raising a baby), to which he is told – patience, emotional vulnerability and breasts. “Some men have breasts” Matt responds, almost seriously; and while it’s meant for laughs, that’s really the only thing men don’t have to provide for a newborn – breast milk. And considering how a lot of new moms choose formula these days, there is really no reason why a man should be ill-equipped to play the role of a complete parent by himself.

Paul Weitz and Kevin Hart bust some stereotypes in the film and don’t succumb to “irresponsible dad” gags to get laughs out of the viewers. So we get an earnest portrayal of a single father struggling to balance work and parent duties, while dealing with mother-in-law issues and a bunch of weird friends. He almost gets fired – a reality a lot of new moms face around the world – but manages to pull through. The climax was predictable, but I really don’t have any complaints with it, because it’s believable and simple. The lack of any dramatic conflicts might make it a little bland for some. But for some of us, “Fatherhood” is a light-hearted ode to single parents doing all they can to give their kid the best life.

It’s a 7/10 from me.

Please subscribe to our podcast on YouTube by the same name – Abstract AF

Listen to episode 29 for more fun movie recommendations.

Also Read: ‘Little’ Film Review – Little On Offer

Read: ‘Wish Dragon’ Review: Fun Asian Spin To An Almost Aladdin-Like Story

Read: ‘Awake’ Review – The Script Puts Logic To Sleep

Read: Ginny & Georgia Review – Goes From Fun To Frustrating

‘Fierce Femmes & Notorious Liars’ Review- Feisty & Fabulous AF

This book warmed the cockles of my heart. There, I said it. Never thought I would use that cheesy phrase in my life, for a book review at that. But I cannot think of anything better to say, so shoot me. However, I would like to get a hug from author Kai Cheng Thom (and a few other authors) for writing this fabulous memoir before I die. If she ever ends up reading this, I sense her first thought would probably be “NO fucking way, I’ll stab you in the eye if you try hugging me, you weird stranger”. Oh well…

‘Fierce Femmes & Notorious Liars’ – A Trans Girls’ Confabulous Memoir offers readers a surreal blend of dark realistic themes mixed with fantasy fiction elements in a way that one cannot distinguish fiction from reality and it does not matter. It’s filled with poetry, violence, female friendships, love and despair. Written in first person, it starts off with the protagonist recalling events that led her into running away from home as a teen – she was born in a boy’s body and her parents would’ve preferred she remained trapped in it.

What follows next is a world of amazing trans women who save her from becoming just another battered runaway begging on the streets. The majority of the story unfolds in a place called ‘The Street of Miracles’, which smacks of irony, because even though it’s a place where trans people are able to rediscover themselves and make a living, it’s also where they get murdered and the cops couldn’t care less.

“Does the street shelter us or sacrifice us? And what’s the difference?”

That’s one of the most poignant lines the novel, explaining the double-edged nature of the street. The protagonist soon joins a vigilante group nicknamed “Lipstick Lacerators”, whose mission is to avenge their murdered sisters and strike fear in the hearts of malevolent men. Despite their insecurities, jealousies and egos, the women come together for a cause and it makes the reader deeply dwell on the goodness of the human-heart, regardless of however flawed it might be. All the characters in author Kai Cheng Thom’s world are never apologetic about who they are. From Kimaya, the woman with a heart of gold who helps rehabilitate runaway trans girls, to the bad-ass bald-headed Valaria who incites her sisters into forming a killer wolf-pack, each femme is a fabulous shade of their own.

The writing style is very conversational and the language is quite simple too, as if the writer is penning a long letter to someone. In-fact, the chapters are also interspersed with letters the protagonist writes to her younger sister. These letters, although not very personal, reflect a strong bond between the blood-sisters who no longer share the same roof. And all the ‘grammar nazis’ of the world will have to soften their snottiness when they read it, because some rules are bent at a lot of places. Large chunks of the novel read like long-form poetry and well, there are no rules for poetry-writing are they?

In the beginning of the novel, Kai Cheng Thom promises she is going to give the reader a story that’s unlike any of the 11,378 transgender memoirs out there that makes them sound ‘dead, boring and safe’. She delivers just that. It may not have been a book that I couldn’t resist putting down and took me 3 days to finish; but it’s the kind you want to savor little by little and not hungrily devour all at once.

It’s a 5/5 from me.

Subscribe to our podcast by the same name on YouTube – Abstract AF.

Listen to Episode 36 for our interview with Afghan-American author Nemat Sadat.