IN A world where the media often focuses on differences, a British Asian playwright has shone the spotlight on the shared humanity within brown and Muslim communities.
Birmingham-based Farrah Chaudhry said her latest comedy-drama, Community, challenges stereotypes, offering a narrative that celebrates everyday lives, connections, and healing.
“The inspiration behind the play was two-fold. First, I wanted to showcase Muslims, brown people, south Asians, and Middle Eastern people in a positive, everyday light. I was tired of seeing people like me portrayed in two-dimensional and often negative ways on TV, film, or stage,” Chaudhry told Eastern Eye.
She added, “I wanted to create characters who are normal, fun, funny, and kind, and who are on journeys of healing. That was something I felt was important, but not shown often enough.
“Second, I wanted to celebrate everything we are as a community. People often focus on how different we all are, which is true – our differences shape who we are.
“However, that’s only part of the story. Birmingham is a vibrant city with communities from all over the world, including India, Pakistan, Syria, Palestine, Poland, Greece, and the Caribbean. While these differences are important, what stands out to me is how similar we are in our needs.”
Set in Birmingham, Community explores themes of identity, belonging, and friendship. Directed by Alice Chambers, the play, which is supported by theatre charity Sir Barry Jackson Trust, features a cast including Sabrina Nabi as Zoya, a young woman from Edgbaston, struggling to find purpose after her parents cut off her financial support.
Kerena Jagpal plays Leyla, Zoya’s friend, who spends her time helping others and shares a home with Khalil, a Syrian refugee living in Birmingham (played by Sayyid Aki, who makes his professional stage debut).
Together, the characters’ stories explore the challenges and the meaning of Community and connection.
Chaudhry said, “Most of us want to feel seen. We crave connection in some form, whether that’s through shared values, hopes, or fears. I believe community is where we find those connections. It’s where we can share with like-minded people who understand what is important to us. That’s why community means so much to me, and it’s the core inspiration for the play.”
She described the play as a ‘love letter to Birmingham’. “I feel truly excited about the play. It’s amazing to see my work come to life on stage. I’ve been actively involved in the casting and rehearsals to ensure we got the right people for the roles. Our director has been fantastic – she understands the play deeply and the world it portrays. The production feels rooted in Birmingham, with two of the three actors and much of the technical team based here. It was important for everyone involved to connect with the play’s setting and context, and that connection shines through,” Chaudhry said.
She stressed the importance of unity at a time of division in society. “I believe we are focusing too much on separating people and placing them into rigid categories based on their origins,” she said.
Sabrina Nabi, Kerena Jagpal, and Sayyid Aki, who portray Zoya, Leyla and Khalil, respectively, in Community
“I disagree with this approach. We are fundamentally similar, despite our different backgrounds. The play I’m discussing highlights this by howing three distinct characters from diverse worlds who ultimately come together and support each other. This sense of community is crucial, especially during times of social tension.”
Community offers a “refreshing perspective” by portraying Muslims, Pakistani, and Middle Eastern characters living ordinary, relatable lives, she added.
“I hope this will encourage people to understand that immigrants mostly want an ordinary life, just like anyone else in this country. We’re not fundamentally different from other residents. My grandparents arrived in the UK from Kashmir during the 1950s and worked incredibly hard to build a future for their family. My parents followed the same path,” she said.
“Today, people continue to arrive from various parts of the world, and I believe this diversity is truly wonderful.”
Chaudhry’s artistic journey began in the early 2000s at the Birmingham Rep, where she learned playwriting as she gradually built a career in the arts.
Over the two decades, she worked with prestigious writers’ groups like the Royal Court Theatre and Kali Theatre in London. And in 2014, she joined the Foundry writing programme at the Rep and worked on projects and plays in Birmingham and beyond.
In her view, progress has been made in representing minority communities in the UK art sector, but significant challenges remain.
“A decade ago, representation was almost non-existent, and even now, south Asian and Middle Eastern stories are severely underrepresented across television, stage, and film.
“When these communities are portrayed, the narratives typically focus on negative stereotypes. This limited representation fails to capture the complexity and diversity of lived experiences,” she said.
“We need more stories that showcase ordinary south Asians and Middle Eastern individuals living normal, everyday lives. While there is now slightly more space for such narratives, it is far from sufficient. Media commissioners often treat diversity as a box-ticking exercise, believing that one or two stories fulfil their annual representation quota.”
Her advice to aspiring artists, especially those from Asian backgrounds, was to persevere. The arts are a competitive field, but your voice matters profoundly, she said. “Whether you’re a writer, actor, producer, director, or musician, your stories are vital. They have the power to inspire, challenge stereotypes, and create change. So, take up your art, work hard, and make your mark.”
Her new play is for everyone, she said, adding, “we all need community, whether you’re a Gen Z, millennial, or from an older generation”.
“Children need community, older people need community, and there is a sense of strength when we come together. This applies to everyone, regardless of age or background. Birmingham, for example, is filled with people from all over the world. It doesn’t matter if you’re from India or anywhere else,” said Chaudhry.
“In the play, one of the characters is from Syria. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or your age. The themes of the play are universal.
“Whether the play is performed in Birmingham, Australia, or Sri Lanka, it speaks to everyone. The ideas of helping one another, community, healing, and togetherness are universal values. I want everyone to see it.”
Community runs at Birmingham Rep’s intimate performance space, The Door, from Thursday (30) to next Saturday (8), before going on a two-week community tour to West Midlands library, school and community venues.
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
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