Abir Mohammad & Samir Mahat on ‘Bhaijaan’ & Masculinity

Bhaijaan is a theatre production of immense importance and social messaging.

The play explores themes of toxic masculinity within the South Asian diaspora, which includes Indian, Nepali, Pakistani, Bengali, and Sri Lankan groups.

It narrates the story of fifteen-year-old best friends Khafi (Rubayet Al Sharif) and Zain (Samir Mahat) as they navigate their wrestling dreams.

The play is written and directed by Abir Mohammad, while Samir directed it during its first run.

In an exclusive interview, Abir and Samir delved into Bhaijaan and the importance of highlighting toxic masculinity in South Asian culture.

Abir Mohammad

How did the story of Bhaijaan come about? What inspired you to write this play?

Without sounding corny, who I am today is a mixture of a lot of the brown boys and men I’ve met throughout my life – for better or for worse, and I wanted to write a story about those kinds of people.

Khafi, Zain and everybody in their life is a culmination of people I’ve met, loved, hated and grown up with, as I wanted to create a story that was authentic to British South Asian masculinity that not only gave us a platform to be ourselves but also highlighted the issues as well.

We tend to gloss over our problems as a means to avoid offending certain communities – which is definitely something to be aware of – so I aimed to write a story that did address our internal issues but gave us a chance to reflect, rather than blame.

I also feel that in a lot of our media, the responsibility of ‘solving’ toxic masculinity is often given to women and girls, as they are made to teach their male counterparts about misogyny, for example.

And whilst this unfortunately reflects society well, I didn’t want to create a narrative that resolved boys of this responsibility.

So I placed these two typical boys in a world of their own, where everybody shuts them out – as they would do in real life – and really forced them to come to terms with their own problems and how they were going to get themselves out of it.

It doesn’t entirely blame toxic masculinity on them but it does ask the question: “Life has put you in this situation. How are you going to get yourself out of it?”

Which is unfortunately the reality for many young boys.

It was also important to not write a story that completely changed these young boys’ worldviews.

I didn’t want them to go through a huge struggle and become perfect afterwards because that wasn’t really authentic to this environment.

They are victims, and they grow, but they are young boys in a modern world so I wanted to highlight that specific level of change without turning them into whole new people. 

Can you tell us about the themes of this play? 

At the core of Bhaijaan is brotherhood. The term Bhaijaan refers to a respectful way of speaking about one’s elder brother.

And of our two protagonists, Zain is an elder brother whilst Khafi is a younger one.

The play explores the different challenges that both face based on how South Asian culture treats its elder brothers.

Of our two elder brothers (one of which is not physically present), one is the golden boy who can do no wrong, and the other – Zain – is to bear the brunt of the house’s future, and is responsible for those that come after him.

Regardless, nobody really wins, as they each come with their difficulties, which we explore.

We mix the idea of toxic masculinity and conservative religion with hopes and dreams.

These boys desperately want to escape their current lifestyle, but initially couldn’t tell you exactly what it is they want to escape, as how can they know what is out there when this is all they know exists?

They just know that they don’t like how certain family members treat them and that they want to become professional wrestlers.

All of the themes kind of turn into one as the toxic masculinity and the conservative religious teachings are the things that are stopping them from achieving their dreams, whilst simultaneously being the reason they want said dreams the most.

It’s also important to note that we never talk negatively about Islam, but we do discuss the impact of being taught it by those without good intentions.

The boys – mainly Zain – are not taught Islam through kindness, but through a lens that bases it on force and punishment, so they end up seeing a skewed version of the sacred text.

How does a young Muslim boy view the world when all he is taught is that he must perform and abstain from certain things purely to avoid punishment?

How does he know right from wrong when the latter is all that he is forced to focus on?

The hopes and dreams are also key to allowing us to see that despite their rough edges (i.e. homophobia, fatphobia, encouragement of violence), they are victims of a world that wasn’t built for them, and they – much like everyone else – want to escape that.

It was important to create the laddish kind of boys that aren’t the go-to heroes in stories like this, as more often than not they are painted as the villains in stories about toxic masculinity.

And whilst that is often true, these types of boys are simultaneously the victims, so that was a key attribute to Bhaijaan.

Do you think South Asian men still feel pressured by toxic masculinity and if so, in what ways?

In the arts world, we tend to think that we are above that, but when we think of the most successful British South Asian actors for example, they are more often than not an example of modern hegemonic masculinity. 

I wouldn’t call it ‘toxic”’ but it is a specific kind that allows them to fit into the ‘man of the house’ type of roles on offer.

A flamboyant South Asian man is rarely given the spotlight as an actor, and when he is, he is often confined to the same role again and again.

And that’s just the few that can even get their foot in the door, which is a whole other topic.

Also, all you have to do is log onto Instagram and TikTok and so much of the humour that gets thousands of likes is reliant on that.

We’ve replaced homophobic slurs with terms like ‘zesty’ that allow us to still perpetuate these stereotypes.

And the only time South Asian men get given the time of day on social media is when they are both masculine and incredibly conventionally attractive.

I saw a TikTok once of a woman who was showing us her ‘type’ and it was a bunch of Indian men, but because their noses weren’t small and they didn’t have six packs to display, the comments thought she was being satirical.

I then go onto Twitter a few weeks later and this guy called Anirudh Peyyala ends up going viral for being ‘pretty for an Indian man’.

The comments were shocked that a South Asian man could be attractive.

What I’m trying to say with all of this is, whilst our own communities perpetuate toxic masculinity within it, those from outside of it do the exact same to us, so there’s no winning, and all we can do about it is work from within. 

How important was producing this play entirely out of a South Asian crew and cast? 

It was integral to the piece. Since 2023, a few South Asian directors have taken it on.

Misha Domadia and Ro Kumar directed 15-minute extracts in 2023 before Samir Mahat directed the first-ever full-length piece earlier this year.

And each time, each Director was able to bring the nuance of being South Asian in this environment.

It was of course also integral that the actors empathised with the boys as so much of their journey is subtext.

Samir and Kashif Ghole (who was in the January/February 2025 run) are the only two actors who have played Zain so far, and I really appreciated how seriously they took his journey.

On the surface, he is the class clown who loves sports and is terrible at school, but through the subtext, he is an intelligent boy who understands people, cares for his community, and believes in justice.

As soon as I saw Samir and Kashif’s tapes, I knew they would be perfect.

They took his journey seriously, understood that he was a victim of the toxic side of South Asian culture, but simultaneously prioritised his youthful, fun spirit.

On many levels, it’s been such a blessing in my life to have met Samir, but creatively speaking he has taken to the script in ways that I didn’t imagine.

As a South Asian actor and director, he has brought so much of his lived experience to the stage that somebody not of this background wouldn’t be able to understand without being shown.

He understands the undertones, the backstory, and has integrated so much of his experience as a young South Asian man into the script.

And this was really important as whilst we discuss masculinity, it is a specific South Asian masculinity that is being presented.

We discuss the Mosque, cultural expectations, and an unspoken language that only a South Asian would understand.

And the creatives I have worked with were able to translate that to a general audience without watering down the specific culture that we portray.

What do you hope the audience will take away from Bhaijaan?

I hope that young boys can learn that masculinity doesn’t need to be toxic, and they should avoid falling down the “manosphere” path that will not take them anywhere sustainable.

This is a play that encourages men to be emotionally available with one another as opposed to dealing with things alone.

So I would hope that it shows people the power of finding your community and letting them know you’re available for them.

Samir Mahat

Can you tell us about Zain? What kind of character is he?

Zain is one of those guys in school who excelled at sports, made everyone laugh, and a lot of people were envious and wanted to be like them.

But a large part of this was because he left a lot unsaid, meaning his home life and outside life are very different.

Regardless, he is fiercely loyal and deeply caring of those close to him.

His intentions are always pure – whether that is his desire to help his friends or family – but is still young and naive enough to be led the wrong way in his pursuit to do good things. 

Do you feel that South Asian actors are represented enough in UK theatre? If not, what do you think can be done to improve this? 

I think my short answer is no.

My longer answer is that I don’t think representation is a finite thing that can simply be fulfilled and there be enough of.

I think we should firstly ensure that there are brown roles for brown actors to play whether that be specifically brown stories or not.

Here, I think much progress has been made, but I think we should always aim for more and avoid the complacency that may come with sentiments of there being ‘enough’.

Because the arts are an ever-changing entity and one must always be in pursuit of ‘more’ in order not to be left behind with the chaos of both the world and the industry.

Though, I think this pursuit for ‘more’ may need to come in the form of quality rather than quantity.

I think the narrative around representation should change from quantity to quality.

While it is of course important that there are roles for brown actors to play, it is also important that representation does not happen simply at the point where we see it (in this case the actors) so that these roles and stories are truly representative.

It is also crucial, therefore, that we have South-Asian voices and representation during the many stages of the creative process – particularly for South-Asian-focused stories – whether that be the producers, casting, directors etc.

Again, this is not to take away from the importance of having brown characters and stories for brown actors to play in the first place.

But rather just making sure that the whole creative process is also authentically representative of our culture as much as possible to ensure that these roles are complex, interesting and not simply ticking boxes. 

What did you learn about the play when you directed its first run? 

I learned that there is such an elasticity to the script in that it can be stretched in so many different ways and so many different parts can be focused on, particularly when depending on how the two main characters – Zain and Khafi – are interpreted.

When I directed the first run, I had the privilege of working with two brilliant actors – Kashif Ghole and Michael MacLeod – both of whom brought out parts of the character I had not initially seen, which made for very exciting and interesting devising moments in the rehearsals process.

I ultimately learnt that there is not one way that these characters can be played, which made me much more confident in playing around and taking risks during the rehearsal process this time around. 

What do you hope the audience will take away from Bhaijaan?

I hope that people may begin to think more about empathy and begin to think about how there is usually much happening behind the scenes in everyone’s lives.

Empathy, I believe, is a very difficult skill to cultivate, but I hope that this play encourages some people to begin that journey and draw on some humility to help accept that there is often more to what one first sees from people.

Bhaijaan promises to be a performance of scale and tough reality.

With so much expectation surrounding South Asian boys and men, this story expects to break taboos and erase stereotypes.

Abir Mohammad and Samir Mahat offer words of wisdom which are necessary for Gen Z and indeed older generations too.

Here is the full list of credits:

Zain
Samir Mahat

Khafi
Rubayet Al Sharif

Writer & Director
Abir Mohammad

Assistant Director
Misha Domadia

Dramaturg
Samir Mahat

Stage Manager
Stella Wang

Movement Director
Annice Boparai

The production plays at The Hope Theatre in Islington, London from March 11 to March 15, 2025.