Fatima Bhutto is as old as me. And as a writer she is asking questions that matter. I don’t care if her Book isn’t perfect yet. She makes me look deep within and examine my own sense of belonging and purpose. What brings us true peace: religion, love, money, children, or revolutionary writing? What are we running away from and what’s really eluding us? Her young, emotional, and flawed characters in the Runaways examine this. They do so by acting on their impulses and making choices that push them toward their own ignored truths.

It’s a big book. It makes generous travel leaps from post-partition India, the United Kingdom, to the Middle East through the two different countries within salty Karachi. It traces the growth of extremism within its protagonists and views it from a non-Western lens. Although it talks about the Islamic State and the warriors of Syria, religion does not take center stage. Mercifully, it doesn’t read like an apologetic Muslim liberal book. Religion seems like a component, but at the heart of it, it is about human emotions, a sense of belonging, and purpose that do not represent a single religion. 

Bhutto is already an accomplished writer. But there are parts where the character motivations are a little less convincing or buried. There are parts which I wish had more narrative around them. The canvas is so large that it’s almost tempting to wish there’s more.

I hadn’t thought about this a lot for myself but each time I hear a song in a language that speaks to my heart with lyrics that make sense, I feel seen. The emotional burden of not belonging anywhere and everywhere is immense. Some find it in people and places, some in songs and books. And those that don’t, often run away.