A new play based on Asian author Sathnam Sanghera’s novel traces generations and communities, offering insight into British society, its director has said.
Published in 2013, Marriage Material delves into the experiences of an immigrant family in the UK, as a young man navigates the tensions between his dual British and Punjabi identities, his family’s past, and the life he has built for himself.
Marriage Material has been adapted for the stage under the same name by Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti and is directed by Iqbal Khan.
The play follows the journey of a Sikh family across generations. It begins in the late 1960s in Wolverhampton, where they run a corner shop, and continues through to the present day.
Gurpreet Kaur BhattiHelen Murray
In an interview with Eastern Eye, Khan said, “The play tracks and parallels my life in many ways, because I was born in Birmingham to Punjabi Pakistani parents, and so many of the themes are resonant with what I’ve lived. So, it’s a very significant story.”
He added, “Gurpreet has made changes (from the original version) and it has a slightly different end. Interestingly, there are no stereotypical elements.
“One of the most compelling aspects of Gurpreet’s writing was where the story begins. “Typically, such plays start with the patriarch and matriarch figures from the older generation, often portrayed as duty-bound and lacking passion. But that’s not the case here. We begin with a relatively young couple in their early to mid-30s, deeply in love – and unafraid to show it.
“The play then explores how the pressures of living in British society gradually erode their physical health and what their children inherit from them, both emotionally and culturally.”
Actresses Kiran Landa and Anoushka Deshmukh in a poster of Marriage MaterialHelen Murray
Khan, who is in his early fifties, and is the associate director of Birmingham Rep, said the play speaks direct to Sikh and Punjabi communities, especially those in the Midlands and London.
He said, “Like any great piece of theatre, this story, however, goes beyond one community. It’s about a family, about Britain, and about the journey of identity in today’s world.”
But, he added, “This isn’t just a story about British Asians – it features a range of characters and reflects the wider story of who we are as a country today, shaped by our past. Anyone interested in that journey, or who comes from an extended family or immigrant background, which includes most of us, will find something familiar in it. It’s a warm and funny play, using humour to bring people together and celebrate our differences. It builds bridges across generations and cultures, and I truly believe it will resonate with everyone, no matter their background. It’s a story for all.”
Describing the “inner strength” of the novel, Khan said, “Great writers often use the family and the domestic sphere as a metaphor for the world. This is also very much present in Sanghera’s original novel. By focusing on the family, you create an image of the world and of society. So, it’s not just about a Sikh Punjabi family in Wolverhampton; it’s also an image of how society has developed over time. The more specific we are, the more resonant the story becomes with universal truths – about the world, society, and what makes Britain what it is today.”
Khan explained how in the play’s second half, set in the present day, the youngest son faces questions about who he really is – how he balances his Asian heritage with his British life. He’s also in a relationship with a white British woman, which brings up issues that are still very relevant.
“I hope anyone who enjoys smart comedy, moving drama, and quality theatre will come. It’s a rich, heartfelt story that can connect with people from all walks of life,” the director said.
Khan has been working in the industry for more than three decades. He said the production team used movements and music to show transitions among different time periods in the play.
“Honouring the complexity of that narrative is a significant challenge. Another is the structure – the first half jumps forward in time, sometimes five or 10 years at a stretch. Staging those shifts while maintaining narrative clarity is demanding. We’re not relying solely on realism either; we’re also working to preserve the poetic and lyrical qualities of the piece,” he said.
“I hope it’s a beautiful, playful set, with a poetic element. The great thing about theatre is that it’s inherently non-naturalistic. If you want naturalism or realism, you go to TV or cinema. Theatre is a poetic form; it allows you to suggest truths and transition between moments. The design conveys more than just the setting or period. Without giving too much away, the play does shift across time.”
Khan said it’s an “exciting time” for people from Asian and minority communities to be in the arts.
“When I started in the industry, there were a few leading figures like Jatinder Verma (theatre director and activist), but opportunities were limited, especially in the mainstream. The types of stories being told were quite narrow. That has changed a lot. Today, the arts are far more open and eager for a wider range of stories, not just those focused on trauma, but joyful and celebratory ones too. The next big step is encouraging people from all backgrounds to tell any story they feel passionate about, not just ones linked to their heritage,” he said.
“If you’re creative with a strong voice, don’t feel restricted. Tell the stories you want to tell. Don’t limit your ambitions or dreams. Be bold, and don’t be afraid to bring activism into your work. In the past, work from marginalised communities was seen as financially risky, but that view is shifting – and will continue to change faster if the next generation stands firm and refuses to compromise.
“We now have inspiring leaders like Indhu Rubasingham and Natasha Kathi-Chandra, who are genuinely excited about bold, honest, and sometimes challenging stories that reflect the world we live in. So yes, it’s a very exciting time to be in the arts.”
Marriage Material will run at Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at Birmingham Rep from June 25 to July 5.
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Milli Bhatia
Khaled Hosseini
The poster of the stage adaptation 
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5