Pamela Mala Sinha centres Bengali immigrants and created family in Necessary Angel’s “New”

The creative work of award-winning playwright and actor Pamela Mala Sinha often reflects her own life experiences. Her latest play New, which draws on her family’s experiences, is no exception. 

Directed by Alan Dilworth, it opens on April 28 in Toronto’s Berkeley Street Theatre, presented by Necessary Angel Theatre Company and produced in association with Canadian Stage and Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre. New explores the lives of a group of Bengali immigrants in 1970s Winnipeg, Manitoba, as they grapple with the challenges of building a new life in a foreign land that is itself rapidly changing. For the play, Sinha drew on stories she collected from the community her parents and their friends formed in Winnipeg – and the unique relationships they built with their chosen “family” – to create a rich and nuanced portrait of these immigrants who shaped Canada.  

Set in a small university town, the plot centres on the arrival of Bengali bride Nuzha, which shakes up the tight-knit local group of South Asian immigrants – a group which includes Qasim, the groom she has never met, and his blindsided girlfriend Abby. Tradition and counterculture collide for three women and their husbands, as their perceptions of identity, sexuality, and the meaning of freedom are challenged by the spirit – and actions – of this brave young woman. The Toronto cast of New features Sinha and actors Fuad Ahmed, Shelly Antony, Dalal Badr, Alicia Johnston, Ali Kazmi and Mirabella Sundar Singh..

The play is a response to Sinha’s rage and sadness at the lack of stories about the Indian- and Chinese-born citizens who have played such a significant role in the evolution of Canada. “Racism is a product of ignorance,” she asserts, “especially in Western Canada where young professionals – like my father – were recruited to help build small colleges into the respected universities they are today. They were young here once. I hope this play can help fill that narrative gap… even if just a little.”

When asked about her process of interviewing family friends, Sinha credits their deep altruism “What surprised me was not only their willingness to answer my questions, but their excitement to be asked! The generosity with which they shared their stories with me was deeply moving.” And of the stories, one particularly surprised her. One of her Muslim uncles recounted how, during his youth, parents back home were becoming increasingly worried about their sons falling in love with “foreign” women while studying abroad. As a result, they began allowing Nikahs (a religious ceremony for a Muslim couple to be legally wed under Islamic law) over the telephone! “He himself knew someone who had gotten married that way in Winnipeg,” recounts Sinha, “and the moment he told me this, I knew this would be the opening scene of my play!” 

The depth of the stories of her interviewees made her determined to capture the things that mattered to them, such as “the complex nature of love and sacrifice, joyful togetherness and piercing loneliness, and what it means to be thought of as ‘new’ – because of how you look – in a country where you are not new, a country that is your home.”

A major theme running through the play is the idea of the family that one creates, as opposed to the family that one is born into. Sinha, whose own parents emigrated to Canada in the mid-60s, has firsthand experience with this idea: “My mother was a dancer in Uday Shankar’s troupe, and my father was recruited from the London School of Economics, and they built a family from a small group of bachelors and married couples. Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian – it didn’t matter – they celebrated everything together. When children came, these friends raised us together. My cousins are my cousins not by blood, but by the love that came of those lifelong friendships.”

And sure enough, the relationship with her created family in Canada has only deepened: “The sense of responsibility I feel for the people I call Mashi and Mesho and Kaki and Kaku here in Canada – the people who helped form the person I am today – is something I don’t feel so much for my relatives back home.” Her Uncle Biswas was one of the bachelors who became her parents’ first “family” here: “He called my mother Boudi, ‘sister-in-law’, and my father, Dada, ‘big brother’. When he died, it felt like I lost Daddy all over again.” Except for a favourite pishi (paternal aunt), Sinha lacks this degree of connection with her blood uncles and aunts in Kolkata. “Of course, my brother and I will carry on the obligations to family there as our parents would have us do,” sha assures, “but it’s love – not obligation – that compels me to care for, and worry about, my ‘family’ here.”

Created family is a theme that Bengali audience members, especially first generation immigrants (among whose numbers I count my own parents) will immediately recognize. They will also connect their lived experiences to the many cultural references that Sinha weaves organically within the narrative to manifest the tight community that the play’s characters establish: for instance, the use of honorifics like dada, didi, boudi; the holding of sacred bhai phota ceremonies; and the spontaneous yet elaborate communal meals that conjure up memories of foil-covered CorningWare (with the iconic cornflower design) containing the flavours of home. 

Another touchstone reference is Bengali polymath and Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore, who is revered by Bengalis worldwide as the culture’s apex figure. In the play’s opening scene, Qasim quotes a poem byTagore and tries to translate it into English for his Canadian girlfriend. Since the characters are Bengali Hindus and Bengali Muslims, it was important that she reflect their ‘Bengali-ness’ where she could organically: “My parents listened to a lot of Rabindra Sangeet throughout my life, and the inclusion of this poem made cultural sense to me.” Sinha chose this poem specifically because Qasim, in the moment he recites it to Abby, is suffering – and in some way, he hopes that the strength of his love for her will overcome this painful circumstance. In this sense, the poem captures the courage of her parents’ generation in coming to a foreign country to face the challenges awaiting them.

Sinha’s work as a playwright and actor has been shaped in part by her collaborations with Dilworth, with whom she has now worked on several projects, including her award-winning solo play Crash, which is currently being adapted into a film; and Happy Place, which in 2020 was turned into a film directed by Helen Shaver. “Since the first collaboration, I work with Alan not only because of his deep understanding of what I’m trying to say as a playwright, but because his desire to make art – that is both provocative and complex – is the kind of art I want to make, and where I know we both find meaning.” Taking a breath, she smiles:, “Alan inspires me to take risks and encourages me to write the stories I NEED TO TELL.” 

Sinha also speaks highly of Dilworth as an actor’s director, who urges her to embody fully her characters: “Every time, he pushes me to let go as a playwright and fully inhabit the words I’m saying – as if I didn’t write them,” she explains. “He’s after the truth. And you have to dig deep for that, and fight for it – as I would playing any part in any play. Acting is hard. It’s a craft.” And though Dilworth is not of Indian descent, Sinha knows that he will also take the words on the page and be rigorous in a way that challenges her to go deeper as a playwright… until finally, what she “could only imagine” will become the only way to tell this story: “His curiosity and humanity is what makes him the right person to direct this play… and that’s more than enough for me.”

At present, Sinha feels keenly the duality of her writing and acting: “I started writing only ten years ago – it was never my plan. I don’t know if I maintain a balance between the two crafts – I always feel so privileged to do either one.” Sinha’s only advice for aspiring artists is to take charge: “The best insight I can offer is not to wait for someone to write the stories you want to tell… tell them yourself. In a poem, or a play or whatever medium inspires you. And try to fall in love with the process, not the outcome, because that’s not within our control. Especially in the arts.”

Asked in closing about her favourite aspect of Bengali culture, Sinha reiterates her appreciation for the “emphasis on community and the importance of relationships” among Bengalis: “That’s what this play is about – the bonds that are formed when people come together, when they share their stories and their struggles.” And while some cultural practices may not align with her personal beliefs (such as “some of the gender roles that are still prevalent in our culture”), she is profoundly grateful for her heritage and the richness it brings to her life and work.

As we prepare to part ways, she also expresses gratitude for this opportunity to discuss New: “It was a gift to live in the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of a play that means so much to me.” 

Then a twinkling eye . . . and a last-minute twist. “Do you know I wrote it for my mother?” 

New runs until May 14, 2023. Audience advisory: strong language, mature content. Reserve tickets on necessaryangel.com.

© Arpita Ghosal, SesayArts Magazine, 2023