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A review by raindropsinreverie
American Betiya by Anuradha D. Rajurkar
4.0
From the very first pages of the book, I could relate to Rani on multiple levels. Especially the “hide your relationship from your desi parents” part. Honestly, if you are a desi teen who hasn’t had to ever hide relationships from your parents, I wanna ask, how does it feel to not be plagued by constant fear?
First love and first relationships are messy and magical. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, or how you’re supposed to feel, or how you’re supposed to express what you feel. Add cultural differences into the mix, and everything becomes even more complicated. I expected American Betiya to be like any other YA romance, but the way it handled the interracial relationship deserves all the praise in the world.
While this book is marketed as a romance, it has so much more. From Rani’s struggle with her identity, trying to please her parents, to the family issues swept under the rug and her adorable grandparents and the rest of the clan back in India, American Betiya weaves a beautiful and accurate representation of Indians and Indian-Americans.
When Rani’s secret boyfriend (and his mother) first start throwing mildly racist comments at her, I was fully expecting Rani to educate and change Oliver. Because happy endings are what you expect in a romance, right? Rani does get her happy ending, but not in the way you expect her to.
I’ve read that calling out microaggressions is risky: You risk appearing petty, hypersensitive, unstable. You risk your credibility. You risk having to watch the offender—in this case the one I love—justify. Backpedal. Flat-out lie. And yet . . .
…And yet, she called him out. And trust me when I say Oliver had it coming for a long time. I would have punched his face many chapters ago, and I am not a violent person. The bridal dress up, the horrendous painting – I cried so many times while reading this book. I am still not sure whether they were I-feel-so-bad-for-Rani tears or I-am-so-pissed-at-Oliver tears. Maybe a bit of both.
Now that I have made my hatred for Oliver clear, lets talk about my favourite part of American Betiya – Rani’s family. There were so many moments where, if you just changed the names, it could be my own family. Rani learning about her mother’s youth and her parents’ romance from her aunt is such a beautiful moment and such a desi experience. Why do most desi parents not share stories from their pasts? They would rather be viewed as cold and distant than show eve a teensy bit of vulnerability. I do understand this at some level, but I also don’t. I was sobbing when Rani’s grandmother gives Rani Aajoba’s stuff and tells her stories of Rani’s childhood. That whole trip to India was immaculate. Shalini, Aajoba, Lalita Mami, every character was fabulous and their relationships with Rani were beautifully written. Also, Aajoba’s nickname for Rani is Chotu, which is so adorable!
Riding home, my arms around Shalini’s waist, I gaze up at the full moon hanging low in the sky, and think of Oliver. I wonder if he’s looking up at the same moon, but then I remember that it’s daylight in America and no moon would be shining there now.
This particular quote meant a lot to me. The author might not have meant it this way and it might just be my interpretation, but to me, this is the moment Rani truly moves on. This is when she realizes that she and Oliver truly live in two different worlds.
The first time Oliver invites Rani to his house, Rani is forced to explain her vegetarianism to his mother who had prepared beef tacos for dinner. As someone who is also not religious but vegetarian, I related with her in this moment.
"I lope around the neighborhood in my white salwar kameez, snapping photos with Aajoba’s camera. People stop and stare, their confusion clear as they work to categorize me. I’m not a white Westerner in an ashram robe, nor am I a native. I’m an Indian American in Pune, looking to capture “daily Indian life,” which places me in my own odd category."
American Betiya is exactly what the title says – the story of an Indian American daughter. This book has really touched my heart and I will still need some time to get over it. I have been pondering about my ratings for this book for days, but I still can’t decide. I can’t stop gushing over how good the representation is to analytically rate it.
The only thing that matters is that I loved it and I want to climb rooftops and scream “READ AMERICAN BETIYA”. Especially if you are Indian American or Indian.
First love and first relationships are messy and magical. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, or how you’re supposed to feel, or how you’re supposed to express what you feel. Add cultural differences into the mix, and everything becomes even more complicated. I expected American Betiya to be like any other YA romance, but the way it handled the interracial relationship deserves all the praise in the world.
While this book is marketed as a romance, it has so much more. From Rani’s struggle with her identity, trying to please her parents, to the family issues swept under the rug and her adorable grandparents and the rest of the clan back in India, American Betiya weaves a beautiful and accurate representation of Indians and Indian-Americans.
When Rani’s secret boyfriend (and his mother) first start throwing mildly racist comments at her, I was fully expecting Rani to educate and change Oliver. Because happy endings are what you expect in a romance, right? Rani does get her happy ending, but not in the way you expect her to.
I’ve read that calling out microaggressions is risky: You risk appearing petty, hypersensitive, unstable. You risk your credibility. You risk having to watch the offender—in this case the one I love—justify. Backpedal. Flat-out lie. And yet . . .
…And yet, she called him out. And trust me when I say Oliver had it coming for a long time. I would have punched his face many chapters ago, and I am not a violent person. The bridal dress up, the horrendous painting – I cried so many times while reading this book. I am still not sure whether they were I-feel-so-bad-for-Rani tears or I-am-so-pissed-at-Oliver tears. Maybe a bit of both.
Now that I have made my hatred for Oliver clear, lets talk about my favourite part of American Betiya – Rani’s family. There were so many moments where, if you just changed the names, it could be my own family. Rani learning about her mother’s youth and her parents’ romance from her aunt is such a beautiful moment and such a desi experience. Why do most desi parents not share stories from their pasts? They would rather be viewed as cold and distant than show eve a teensy bit of vulnerability. I do understand this at some level, but I also don’t. I was sobbing when Rani’s grandmother gives Rani Aajoba’s stuff and tells her stories of Rani’s childhood. That whole trip to India was immaculate. Shalini, Aajoba, Lalita Mami, every character was fabulous and their relationships with Rani were beautifully written. Also, Aajoba’s nickname for Rani is Chotu, which is so adorable!
Riding home, my arms around Shalini’s waist, I gaze up at the full moon hanging low in the sky, and think of Oliver. I wonder if he’s looking up at the same moon, but then I remember that it’s daylight in America and no moon would be shining there now.
This particular quote meant a lot to me. The author might not have meant it this way and it might just be my interpretation, but to me, this is the moment Rani truly moves on. This is when she realizes that she and Oliver truly live in two different worlds.
The first time Oliver invites Rani to his house, Rani is forced to explain her vegetarianism to his mother who had prepared beef tacos for dinner. As someone who is also not religious but vegetarian, I related with her in this moment.
"I lope around the neighborhood in my white salwar kameez, snapping photos with Aajoba’s camera. People stop and stare, their confusion clear as they work to categorize me. I’m not a white Westerner in an ashram robe, nor am I a native. I’m an Indian American in Pune, looking to capture “daily Indian life,” which places me in my own odd category."
American Betiya is exactly what the title says – the story of an Indian American daughter. This book has really touched my heart and I will still need some time to get over it. I have been pondering about my ratings for this book for days, but I still can’t decide. I can’t stop gushing over how good the representation is to analytically rate it.
The only thing that matters is that I loved it and I want to climb rooftops and scream “READ AMERICAN BETIYA”. Especially if you are Indian American or Indian.