Mustafa’s Mithai by Sana Rafi illustrated by Nabi H. Ali
On the surface this 32 page OWN voice authored and illustrated book is absolutely adorable, a little boy who wants to share mithai’s with his friends and saves a gulab jamun for himself. As a mother of a child named Mustafa, who didn’t have a wedding cake a hundred years ago but flew in gulab jamuns from out of state, this book should be close to my heart, except the story makes no sense. The cultural rep is great, it isn’t religious, but mentions eid, shows Nani in a hijab, and the word Allah in Arabic appears in one of the illustrations on a wall decoration, but take that all away, and the story doesn’t add up. The first few spreads establish how sad Mustafa is because he can’t eat his beloved mithai as all the holidays, birthdays, and Eid have passed, and mithai is only eaten in celebration. This is particularly devastating since they have a huge box of leftover mithai. No idea why such a forced build up, but the take away would suggest that wasting leftovers is better, which makes no sense. No worries, Ammi says every day is a celebration, but Mustafa doesn’t acknowledge or build off of what his mother tells him, sticking with his original assessment he decides to have his non Desi friends over for a party to eat the leftovers. Ok, I’ll play along, maybe just the framing is awkward. Nope, after a pizza dinner he picks out a different mithai for each of his friends…and starts with Falooda, a jelly and ice cream drink! Mithai means sweets, so technically it could be a mithai, even if not commonly referred to as one, but surely not a left over one what would still be good, and definitely not one from the box. Another assigned sweet for a friend, is kulfi. Kulfi is a frozen dessert akin to ice cream, and often served on a stick. Again, no way it is from the leftover box and not really in the same classification of ladoo, chum-chum, jalebi, and rasmalai. The illustration shows an apple in the leftover box, and the author’s note seems to suggest a more generalized use of the term, “mithai,” but craft wise, why have the boy build up the framing of when a cultural food genre is consumed, only to walk it back and have it contradict? Why have foods that wouldn’t be leftovers served? I know, I’ll be the minority and I’m over thinking it, but why go through all the effort of trying to be a window to a culture and its foods, having it beautifully bound and illustrated, only to skimp on the actual story part?
The book as stated above, starts with Mustafa wanting mithai, and being sad that nani and nana have left, eid and Baba’s birthday are over, and sweets are only eaten in celebration. Mustafa decides to have some friends over in celebration to eat the left overs and Ammi says “Mithai is always sweetest when shared.”
The kids all arrive and when they look in the big pink box they aren’t sure what they are looking at, Mustafa explains the variations and his friends are at a loss at what to pick. To solve the dilemma Mustafa offers to match everyone up with a mithai after playing and dinner.
One by one he assigns a sweet to a friend, saving a gulab jamun for himself. They all want more, and in round two the emboldened guest pick their own making sweet memories indeed. The backmatter is the author’s note explaining mithai, where they come from, the prevalence of dairy, and the role sweets have in Desi culture.
