Masarat Daud

About My Guest

Masarat Daud is the Chairperson of DHP Foundation which is a family non-profit based in Rajasthan, India. She is also the curator of South Asia’s largest TEDx event, TEDxShekhawati, which takes place in a small town in India with attendees from nearby villages and hamlets. Her parallel life is working as a Communications Consultant in London; she currently blogs on Medium under her name. Her interests are in Islam and feminism.

She lives in London with her husband and is an Account Director at a feminist consultancy.


Shervin Talieh:

Hi, welcome to on the On-Misogyny, and I am joined by a new guest and why don't we start off with some introductions. Could you please tell me your name and who you are?

Masarat Daud:

Hi Shervin. Thanks for having me on your podcast. My name is Masarat, and I'm based in London. I am a communications consultant, and my family's from Rajasthan in India. I've never lived there. My family had moved to UA and I've lived in Dubai all these years and I moved to London about 10 years ago after I got married. So my background is in journalism, although I've studied IT. And I'm basically focusing on communication style for the last 15 years.

Shervin Talieh:

You identify as a Muslim woman, okay. Could you just talk a little bit more about what other elements are there to your identity that I should know about?

Masarat Daud:

I mean, if this was a video, then it would be quite obvious that I'm a Muslim woman. It's funny, you've asked this question this way, because I don't tend to consciously think too much about this is me and these are the three identity tags that I come with, but I am a practicing Muslim. I guess being a woman is my other tag. I'm trying to think of everything else. Yeah, I think this idea of Muslimness for me, really came about specially after I moved to London and I wear the burka. Well, I cover my head, but not my face. I don't wear the niqab. And it's been interesting because it's always well, before becoming a conversation starter, it's always something people tend to associate you with being oppressive or being oppressed or backward. And no one really talks to you too much.            

And so for me, it's become something for me where I try to push. I find it almost as something that pushes people's notions of how liberal they are. And yeah, it's been an interesting last 10 years in experiencing that after not only moving to London, but also getting to travel so much more.

Shervin Talieh:

This is a really interesting topic that I'd like to learn from you. I think you really just exposed it, in speaking with other women, one are the areas where there seems to be I would say like a schism in terms of feminist frameworks and the fact that it's non-monolithic right? In terms of women's identities and their context, right? The idea of religion and religious practices, as it pertained to, for example the second or third wave of feminism in your case as a practicing Muslim who wears the burka, I would imagine, and please correct me if I'm wrong. I would imagine that it offends the sensibility of some women with respect to, I think you've talked about oppression and or what feminism entails. So could you elaborate on that? How does it feel, what are your thoughts around how you face or interact with other women in terms of what their notion of feminism and sexism is?

Masarat Daud:

When it comes to wearing the burka, one of the things I often got to hear actually from many women now was how can you reconcile this thing on your head with being a feminist? How can you be a feminist when you're promoting essentially a patriarchal tool? And this for me has been a sense of... it's been a constant issue that comes up and I feel a lot of it in the stopped. I will try to explain this a lot. And I think a lot of it is really the lack of understanding of intersectionality. And this was being at the receiving end of these conversations. I write a lot whether on blogs or other e-magazines and so on. So there was a piece that I've written, which essentially where I write about how I'm not a feminist and a lot of people who have these conversations with women who say, "I'm not feminists" will probably roll their eyes and think how is that even possible?

And over the years I have changed my stance only because I've changed the way I understand feminism. For me at that point, it was almost like a cult where some other people had the authority to validate or invalidate your experiences to let you in or not to let you in. And when I looked at it from that lens, for me I thought, well, I don't want to be part of this anyway. And over the years, it's been really interesting because everything about, it takes away from what we go through as women as well. I still have conversations and people will still try to talk about the oppressive nature of a headscarf and to them, I tell them, come on, it's 2020, get over that.

I think there are enough women now, not only on a global stage, but at your workplace, in your circles, women who wear the headscarf, who are just getting on with their lives, whether they're doing amazing things, whether they are just living their life the way they want to live. And that should be enough yet this idea of oppression is so sticky because I generally with all my experience, believe that it's always the sensationalists, the negative things tend to stick for much longer. And to a lot of these people, I asked them, "Can you point someone to me that you personally know who's been really oppressed by wearing the hijab?" I'm not saying they don't exist. They absolutely do. But a lot of these people who I've had conversations with people who don't know anyone personally, but will come out and try to challenge you on that.

I think for me, it's been a very, I mean, it just never goes away. It's just something that keeps coming to me in waves. I look at women like that who still have this conversation and I tell them, well, I think they need to open their minds a little bit more and try to embrace this idea that another woman can be a feminist, even if she chooses to dress differently to you.

Shervin Talieh:

Intersectionality is a recurring topic. And the fact that someone else gets to decide who's in the club and who isn't that's an interesting lens, maybe exploring that a little bit deeper but from the other side, I'd like you to maybe share with me, what was your earliest experience with sexism or misogyny? You grew up in Dubai if I heard that correctly, I wonder if it was there or during your time at university, could you maybe just touch on that?

Masarat Daud:

I grew up in Dubai, but my family like I had mentioned is from Rajasthan. The thing that happens often with the diaspora is the traditional practices of the homeland are pretty strong there. You're maybe growing in a different context in a different space, but you're very much impacted by what your homeland or the diasporic practices are. And for me, it was very similar now, Rajasthan has one of the highest women illiteracy rates in India. And it's been like this for a very long time. A lot of regressive social practices, not only among Muslims, but even Hindus has been rampant in Rajasthan. I have wonder how other women who you've interviewed for example, have responded to this, there's no moment of recognition of sexism as such, I don't think it exists in a particular moment because a lot of misogyny that is inherited being women.

It comes to us in the form of culture and religion is another sort of veneer on it, but first it's always culture. And a lot of what we practice is culture is misogyny. And when I was born, I was the fourth child at the time. My oldest sister had passed way before I was born. So I was the fourth child. And I think somewhere my birth would have been a disappointment in itself would maybe be the first marker of that sexist moment, because there was an expectation that oh, finally the fourth child must be a boy now. And I came out and it was like, "Ah, sorry." I think it just starts from there. It's little things like, "Oh, that's your brother's chocolate in the fridge, no one touches that."

But if it is something that is yours, that's okay. He has the right to eat that. So there are no boundaries when it comes to your things and there are lots of things. Not every moment is a discriminatory moment as such. A lot of it was also not just my immediate family, but it's also how we saw men and women, aunts and uncles and grandparents and people in our communities, people back in the village and so on. Just seeing them all the way they treated each other. I think that just something that has impacted me a lot since I was young and this notion that women are not smart enough. So men take the lead in certain things and so on. I just refuse to believe or accept any of it. I think that is maybe what was different than my experience.

Shervin Talieh:

So how do you address cultural besides misogyny and specifically, is it okay for someone who is outside of that culture to point out an issue let's say in this case, a non-Muslim westerner, or should that come from within the culture itself?

Masarat Daud:

There's no problem. As in principle anyone, non-Muslim or Westerner pointing out anything wrong happening in a community, there's nothing wrong with that in principle, what would happens more often than not actually is that it just comes from such a condescending space that this idea of someone else coming in and telling you what to do has such colonial dangers as well, that it receives a lot of resistance. So the way this person, whoever this person is, would come and tell someone, this is not okay, depends a lot also about who is this person? What is this person's connection to the community? What are the experiences of this person? Is this someone who is a non-Muslim westerner who's suffered to a similar thing in his or her society. And from that experience, they're coming and telling you, "This is not okay," then that's different, but a lot of this more often than not is always from a place of privilege, from a place of let me tell you what is the right thing to do?

And so it's not always well received. I've always seen my role as someone who... okay, maybe to explain this, I might have to just take you on a slightly longer journey. This is something that I've... Do you know the Hero's Journey?

Shervin Talieh:

No.

Masarat Daud:

It's a very American thing.

Shervin Talieh:

I do not.

Masarat Daud:

It's not American universities. Very simple idea of the hero's journey is you have a man, he is going through a rut. He sort of has these big dreams and box on this great adventure. The adventure transforms him and he comes back, returns changed. 9/11 was and I lived in Dubai at the time. Iraq and so on, everything else that followed. So for me that was a time that I just realized that there was just something wrong in being Muslim. And sorry, I just need one second. I lost my train of thought with that. I was just trying to...

Shervin Talieh:

It's completely fine. You were talking about the heroine's journey, the books that you'd read and how, the framework.

Masarat Daud:

There was a point I was going to be, which I've, okay. Yeah, let me come to that. Yes. Okay. Got it. After 9/11 and it effect, and all the times that I would travel and get to meet people, I started just noticing how much I had to explain myself. And the thing about the Hero's Journey for me, that rather the Muslim Heroine's Journey is it starts with apology and guilt. So every time that there's a terrorist attack, you feel like you're personally responsible in some way that you need to condemn this publicly on social media. And otherwise it sort of like in events and discussions that you have, and if you don't do that, then people think you're complicit. It's a process that keeps taking you ahead until you start reaching a point and it reaches a point where you start wanting to disassociate yourself from any kind of religious markers, but it takes you to a point where you find your authentic voice and your middle ground between being cultural and being religious as well.

And not having to apologize for being who you are now, why I sort of mentioned this whole thing was that this entire process, and this is something that it takes you years and years to realize things, to abandon certain things, to embrace certain things to go back and embrace things that you had left. And it's a whole process, but there's a whole journey that I'll speak for myself that I've had, not only within my Muslim communities that I'm part of, but also outside whether it's my role as a daughter or as a daughter in-law, for example, or even outside with friends and with colleagues, I feel that there's such a learning journey that I've been on that a lot of other people, I have friends for example, who tell me, "Oh, well, my family members would never approve of your headscarf."

These are not usually not Muslim friends and colleagues and how this is looked down upon, or they will never understand how you're a feminist. I always tell them that we've had such a journey that we've looked so much within our own communities. There's a lot of soul searching we've done. And a lot of other people on the outskirts of these boundaries, they haven't done the same level of soul searching. So they're still completely okay in being the luxury of ignorance is very much with them, but for us, I feel we've not had that luxury to be ignorant.

It's been go out there, study more about yourself, try to answer all of these questions that people have. When it comes to people judging us from that sense, I always say, "Hold on, you have to listen to the other person first, you have to empathize with whatever that their circumstances are." Not every Muslim person is the same, whatever that I'm saying right now may resonate with a few people. They could be Muslims or non-Muslims, but may not resonate with a lot of other Muslims. So everybody has their own contexts and circumstances that they come from. It's just to come to have this approach, that one Muslim person is somehow speaking on the behalf of an entire global community is completely wrong.

Shervin Talieh:

Hearing you mention the watershed moment of 9/11 brought some memories back for me as an Iranian American. And I'm not suggesting that I know exactly how you feel, but I can relate to this notion of having to defend myself and or every time there was an incident saying, "Oh, here we go." I hope this was not done by someone from my part of the world. That's a heavy load to carry and as I understand, you gave a TED Talk and the title was how you came to love your burka. Maybe I'm paraphrasing that, I believe you draw a line from that introspection to this realization of your love of the burka. Could you talk about that in some way, maybe without leading you, is there a connection between that and your awareness of systemic misogyny?

Masarat Daud:

The title was not something that I had chosen, that was something completely that was up to TED and they, I think I don't think, I would say how I fell in love with a burqa. It was really nothing of that sort, but it was a whole journey as well in trying to wear something. But I think wearing it, definitely, I think when you have an outer sort of marker of religion or practicing any kind of religion, I think it definitely puts you in a different box. I mean, I'm trying to think, I don't know how much of this would resonate with a lot of people, right? I had a very simple strategy generally before religion when culture manifested itself in the most misogynistic of ways.

And I had a very simple strategy somehow from the time I was a kid that I just put myself in that zone, which is, I refused to believe in my own systemic oppression. I refuse to believe that I'm lesser in any way. And I refuse to believe in any person who would tell me something like that. Even when I worked the burka, for example, I think it's a much bigger deal in a lot of people in their own heads, than it is in my head, a few days ago I was asked, "Do you think that there were things you are not able to do because you wear it?" And I thought, actually, I've never thought about it that way. So I have a very a sarcastic profile one or two lines on Twitter.

And I say in my oppressive burka, I bake cycle Spiegel or whatever it is that I've written. And some people get it. Some people don't want to have a very caustic sarcastic sense of humor. And I been told so many times that so many people have tried to convince me of my oppression and this one person distinctly stands out. She's just tried way too many times. Trying to explain to me, and finally, when after more than 30 minutes, 40 minutes of a conversation, when she wasn't able to succeed in whatever she wanted, she just told me, "You are oppressed, you just don't know it as yet." And I really love that actually, because I thought this is pretty great because people already have a view of who you are and spend the whole time, not listening to you, but actually convincing you that what they have thought and what they have assumed about you is your truth.

And I have no patience for that kind of people. I don't, the burka has not done anything in my life that I did not want it to do. If I have wanted to go out and do something, I've never for a moment thought oh, way [inaudible 00:24:20] bloody burka, like what can I do? I remember when I was asked to speak at TED, I was speaking to my mom and she was in India and she was sitting with some of my aunts and so on. And my family didn't really know what TED was. And over the years they got to know because I used to follow it and so on. So I called them and I said, "Listen, I've been invited to speak at TED." And she said, "Oh, that's pretty awesome. Like, what are you speaking about?"

And I said, Yeah, the burka." And she sort of almost, she has a stone. And she said, "Really, you're going all the way to TED to speak about this?" And I think that really tells you all and when I talk about my mother, I mean, all my aunts and my grandmothers and everybody else, they've all won the burka. It was just a cultural practice for us anyway. So it was the most, I think if I had to really equate it to like 2020 example, it's as normal as stepping out of your house with a mask in your hand, that's basically what it is. You think about it, you don't think too much about what it means and like, what is it going to look like? And you just means nothing. It's just a thing that you do and you get on with your life doing it.

And I think a lot of this sense of oppression and everything else, a lot of it is really in people's heads. I felt there's a dual thing for me, where there is a way that I have to explain things within our communities and resist whether they're sort of old practices or old ways of thinking, but there's also a sort of... and I really don't like using the word fight, I really wanted to change that over the years, but there's a way that externally people try to lay their own beliefs on you. Then also I've had to resist and just really find that, I guess, for the lack of a better word.

Shervin Talieh:

You're again, just to use the term fight for the purposes of this conversation. You're fighting on two fronts. Can I ask you what your name Masarat means?

Masarat Daud:

Sure. Actually, if I can say it's a very bastardized pronunciation because in Urdu, it will be Masarat. And in Arabic it will be Masara, and basically there's no word for it in English. It basically means multiple happiness. So I don't know, there's no happinesses, but essentially if there was that's what my name means. A plural of happiness.

Shervin Talieh:

In fart, it reminds me of a word in Farsi. And I don't know if you've heard this or not. But I was interested in your name because you talk about the moment you were born, just by the definition of your sex, your genetic identity, there was a let down if you will. Then carrying that throughout your life. Is this something that you've been able to talk to your family about? Are they aware of it or is this something that you feel that that's not where you want to expend your energy on?

Masarat Daud:

Okay. I'll answer this questions before that. You have to tell me, what does it mean in Farsi? What does my name mean in Farsi? Or what is the word that [inaudible 00:28:02].

Shervin Talieh:

In Farsi we would say Mazarat, and it is a very sincere apology. It's not I'm sorry. It is almost like forgiveness and apology blended together. I'm drawing a distinction here between a reactive negative connotation versus a healing connotation.

Masarat Daud:

Yeah. I think it's linked to the Urdu word Mazrat. So I think yeah, they're both the same and that okay. Well, nowhere close to any apology. Definitely not the name that my parents decided to choose, but, okay. To your question of... I've never spoken to my family about this. It's just something I've heard, something we tend to laugh at. I think the problem has been not only my family, but even with my aunts and so on, to have these conversations, I still find it a bit difficult because there's no language or understanding to do so. Before I got married, I remember there were a bunch of women sitting there and I was sitting there just chatting with them and they were talking about, "Oh, when do you want to get and all of that stuff?"

And I said, "Well, I'm not really first." I mean, if it's not someone who makes sense to me and they said, and they almost had this very alien expression on their face of like, "What does that even mean? Like, you're just supposed to get married and if your husband beats you and things like, that's just what men do." And it's just what women endure and I think I've just never connected on any way. At the time, I was told as an outsider if I came into that conversation with my own people, because oh, yes you're seeing all of these things because you're educated. You can do that. I told them, "Well, yes, if I have an education, why do you expect me to have an education, but also go back and live the ancient gender twisted ideas that you guys have?"

So this is not something, to be honest with you I think a lot of my, I do on the side grassroots education development work in the village in Rajasthan, and a lot of these conversations 10 years ago, people would tell me "Why do women even need to get an education? Why do girls need to go to school?" And I've put more of my focus on that in 10 years I feel really happy about this, that nobody's asking that question anymore. So I feel things are changing and I feel sometimes, you have to ask yourself where, or what is the value of this conversation? Is it really going to change anything or is it just going to alienate people even more? I think right now the time for that conversation, hasn't come, I think maybe a few years who knows? And it'll be interesting if actually it's a conversation started by men. And yeah. I think the time for that conversation hasn't gotten not even with my own family, actually.

Shervin Talieh:

As a man and as a person who is trying to understand what women or women experience, and again, it's not one singular experience, what is something I can do that can reduce the level of misogyny in the world that you're experiencing?

Masarat Daud:

Can I ask you a question?

Shervin Talieh:

Please.

Masarat Daud:

I would love to know and you mentioned you're 52, you've got this Iranian and the American dual experiences as well. What I think is fascinating to me in my head is when you told me you mentioned you feel you're now coming out of the cave and into the realization of how misogyny exists and persists and manifests itself. And I found that utterly fascinating because I always wonder how did it not ever occur to you in that sense? How did it not be a thing that you've thought about? In my head, I mean, one part of me is jealous because I'd loved the sort of luxury of that.

But how do you, I'm assuming I don't know if you're married or if you've dated, for example. You obviously had women in your network and in your circles as well. How does one stay away from not understanding misogynistic experiences for so long and through the podcasts that you're doing, for example, what are the things that you've seen that you did not appreciate before? It's just something that helps me as I then answer you on the other question.

Shervin Talieh:

I appreciate that question. It's very specifically, my mom, I grew up in the '70s in New York. My mom took us to Central Park to see Kate Millett and Betty Friedan, the feminists at the time. I was exposed to now at a pretty early age. So I thought I understood some things. But the truth was that yeah, while I didn't physically abuse anyone or anything like that. My awareness of the misogyny around me ended at a certain level. So for example, in my conversations with other women understanding sexism at an economic level, understanding sexism from a perspective of safety, physical safety, this idea that it costs more to be a woman, because you have to decide what time you're going to get home and what mode of transportation you have to take, or how you have to cross the street when someone's walking towards you.

These are the things that I just did not have an awareness of. And the parallel for that is around racism. I've always known that there's racism, but the more I've started to learn about it, the more I understood how little I know and just how deeply systemic it is. Right? So my intention in having these conversations is to not necessarily to fill in the gaps. I think I'm still at the phase of understanding what more gaps there are in my awareness, even of sexism and misogyny. I hope that helps.

Masarat Daud:

Yeah. Thanks for the answer. I really appreciate it. It's a very different way from how we've seen things, right? As women, all of these things about little things that don't go out too late, but boys are never told the same thing. It is all the rules are always around women, around girls, but boys are never actually given any kind of a bound landscape with any sort of boundaries. It's a conversation for another time where I think that it's actually a lot more damaging, but to your point about what you can do, to be honest with you, the way I see this is that things that I've learned. I mean, there are so many things that have taken me years to even realize what misogyny was like.

That word was maybe something that has come into my vocabulary only in the last five, eight years maybe. A lot of times we went through things without the semantics, without knowing what these things were. Feminism became a thing much, much later, but at the age of I don't know, seven or something, just me telling myself that this is not something I'm going to accept because I refuse to believe in this. A lot of these feelings got a voice much, much later on, and it's been a constant a cycle of self evaluation, of awareness of being sensitive to others. I think you just have to do that. I think if you are reading and you've started with these podcasts, so I think that's a great step as well.

I think in a more poetic way, I would say you just have to allow yourself to break because especially things where your blind spots for you to, and it's a journey only you can go through. There's nothing that anyone can actually handhold you through. It's your journey. It is things you read and that you hear giving it another chance the next time, when you have conversations with other people and on all these things that you've mentioned the physical safety, I mean, I live in London and with all of these things, every time there's this, the business of Islamophobia, every time it's activated. And so when you have France and VA9 and all of these things happening, for example, I can't go for a walk in the bank right behind my house on my own I need my husband to come with me because I don't feel safe.

And there have been so many instances where in central London outside Kings Cross and these major stations, I've had people stop me like, "Hey, I hate what you wear," or sitting in cafes. People coming up to me and saying "I don't like what you're wearing, or I was listening to your conversations. And I don't you sound like a feminist, but I don't understand how you can wear what you wear" and all kinds of comments. It amazes me that people think that they can take that Liberty to come and tell you these things or people come and tell you, Islamophobia is not real. It is just something that media has created because they want to sell and you sit there thinking, I'm not asking you to validate my experiences.

The only thing I would tell you Shervin is you just have to allow yourself to break. You have to just ask more questions. That's the only thing. I think also accept people for what they tell you they are. A lot of times, if I tell people, well, this is who I am, this is what I like. So on, they refuse to acknowledge it because they somehow think that they're the validation is up to them. It's not. So I think just be sensitive. That's all, I told a friend recently that for me, it's not Islamophobia anymore. It's not just a phobia. It's becoming ultimately hatred.

I just like people to hate this less. And I think that's just what it is. I think it's a dual thing.  I'm saying Islamophobia, but for me, it's cultural and it's sort of religious, a double whammy that plays on you. I get enough cultural bullshit when it comes to going back in India, for example, and understanding just how arcake, how ancient the way it is. People act in one way, but you know how they are just wearing jeans. Does these men, that all these women are loose just because she wears a pair of jeans.

The other side of this for me is at the same time, these same men will really respect me because I'm wearing the burka. And it makes me really mad actually, it makes me really mad that people treat women who wear the burka in a different way. And this is on a different zone. Just makes me angry that even if women who choose to not cover their hair or any of these things deserve equal respect. It literally just does not say anything about any woman, whether she chooses to cover her hair or not, it's just nobody's business.

Shervin Talieh:

That's very powerful. I think, again, going back to what I heard you say in your TED Talk, drawing the parallel between the bikini and the burka was eye opening for me, and this idea that women get to choose, not men and certainly this projection, I think without putting words in your mouth, as I understand what you're saying, this permission that people give themselves to tell you in an unsolicited manner, what they think of you and or what your life experience is your guidance to me, as I understand it is to ask questions and to understand and to just listen without trying to frame, or to try to label. Did I get that right?

Masarat Daud:

Yes. Yes.

Shervin Talieh:

Do you have any closing thoughts with respect to... let's say Western men and women who may be listening to this conversation, non-Muslim men and women, is there something that they can learn and take away that could be helpful?

Masarat Daud:

A couple of months ago, I was talking to these guys who are based in New York. I think they must be late '40s, early '50s. And this was a campaign to do with a women led campaign. And they kept talking about how I don't just be angry, like go fight for your equality. And I was the only person in the room, which was funny because I told them, I said, "You absolutely cannot use that language. You cannot tell them and not to get angry." And they kept telling me that I was overthinking it. And I just remember how mad that made me and a lot of things make me mad. I'm not going to say I don't get angry, I get angry. And that just makes me do a lot of things, whether it comes from all kinds of engagement, whether this podcast or a TED Talk and so on.

And I think it's just a perfect example of when someone's trying to tell you something, you listen and you acknowledge what that person is trying to explain to you. And I think this conversation could have been just way longer. There are so many things here I feel to unpack. And a lot of it, even this idea of motherhood and this idea of what a sacred sort of woman is. I think there are just so many things that are deeply intertwined when it comes to culture and religion. It's very difficult to unpack it, but I think for people who are on the outside of it for whom this conversation and the things that I've spoken about are alien, I would only tell them, just listen and you're okay to question it's completely, you don't just become walk by like they are with you in solidarity.

It's okay for you to question things you do not understand that's perfectly okay. But just to be a little bit more aware of towards coming with a condescending attitude. I think for people who are within like the Muslim communities, or especially with women and girls just to resist any ideas that... I always look at this as I've got one life and I have to be true to myself and yes, I have happen to be a woman and a Muslim and all of that, all the other cultural baggage that comes with it. But essentially as a human, I'm not going to allow any of these labels to rob me of my experience of living a full life. I think people within these communities who are going through challenges in their own way, I would just tell them just remove your baggage. And as a human, what is the more true way of living your life? Just keep swimming, just keep swimming towards it.

Shervin Talieh:

What a beautiful metaphor. Masarat, want to thank you for your time, your patience, your wisdom and helping me understand and learn. I'm very grateful for you. Thank you so much.

Masarat Daud:

Thank you so much for having me. This was great.

Shervin Talieh:

Thank you.

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