Growing up, Amanat was the kind of girl who blended into library corners, sketching galaxies in the margins of her notebooks while her classmates traded loud laughter and playground stories. Her teachers often overlooked her - not because she lacked brilliance, but because she didn't demand attention.
At 14, Amanat discovered graphic novels in the old, dusty section of her school library. One book changed her forever: Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. The way images could bleed into words, and silence could scream through black-and-white panels - it moved her.
From then on, Amanat began creating her own stories. Not with grand dialogues or heroic battles, but with quiet panels of small moments: a girl tying her mother's hair, a father fixing a bicycle under the golden light of dusk, a pigeon resting on a windowsill during a storm.
She never showed these to anyone. Not yet.