The UK can’t stop talking about immigration. Ever since I arrived on these shimmering shores, the merits and demerits of my arrival have been constantly debated. Talk about living in someone’s head rent-free. I had barely begun exploring the delights of the country when the hostile environment was launched. It never went away, only changed names—Stop The Boats, Get Brexit Done—and got more entrenched. If anything, the hostility has rocketed upwards with race riots and calls for the deportation of legally settled people. Being gay – as ever- makes things worse (Ok fine some things are marvellous and yes it-gets-better and all but even so..) – it just gives people yet another reason to debate whether you are legal or not, this time across continents and religions. There is, of course, a delicious irony in the fact that a colonial law declared me illegal in India, and I was no longer illegal on coming to the glorious centre of ex-colonial power.
Having your life debated by people in power is probably not what the doctor would recommend, but it makes for good artistic fodder. I decided to put that to good use and wrote a play, pouring into it all my observations and discussions with friends and the thoughts of random strangers in the comments sections. I was incredibly lucky that two theatres bought into my idea and supported me through the development- Tara Theatre in London and Live Theatre in Newcastle. Tara Theatre’s NOVA program brought the play to life, and I’m so happy it’s going to be showing there now. The kernel of the play – I Dream of Theresa May – was an idea I just couldn’t shake off- what if the then home minister Theresa May popped up in my room one day and we could have a conversation? Would she see me as British or a potential citizen? After that vision, I couldn’t not write the play. You’re going to get yourself into trouble, I thought to myself. I wrote the play anyway.
Writing is a way of thinking through things, and there was so much to think about. Immigration experiences change us for better or worse, and immigrants have politics and ambitions of their own. Just look at all those party leading lights from immigrant backgrounds. Immigration rules also change us, initially laying down hurdles for ‘outsiders’ to leap over, but eventually coming to define how a country sees itself. All of us immigrants and non-immigrants alike have to face similar choices in the end. How far will we go to fit into the mainstream of society? With the advances in LGBTQ+ rights, queer people have faced a very similar question. Is it better to be accepted and try to fit in perfectly with everyone else or to find ways to insist on living lives that are different? As both acceptance and rights are threatened, do we even know the compromises we make to lead comfortable, happy lives?
Yes – I’ve clearly tried to stuff the play with every idea I had, but hopefully it’ll be one of those Indian meals at home, where you’re generously overfed and yet enjoying every minute. And to make the meal even more enjoyable, this one is flavoured throughout with jokes. Approaching lofty issues at an angle, through humour or genre, is a way to get people to think harder, without getting all our defences and objections up and ready. So, I really hope, above all, that people will laugh when they come to the play. But when they leave, I’m hoping they can have a think about all that people have to face when trying to become just another citizen, joining all the others in the grand British tradition of being huddled up on this island, cursing the weather, and simply getting on with our lives.
I Dream of Theresa May runs from 17–29 November at Tara Theatre, 356 Garratt Lane, Earlsfield, London SW18 4ES, United Kingdom.
