Guest Blog: Indian Writer and Actor Mohit Mathur on Theatre's Role in Politics and Immigration in His Play DIAL 1 FOR UK

In my play Dial 1 for UK, my character, an undocumented migrant who moves to London for a better life, smiles for a reporter and says: “It’s a dream to be here.” This line, and the play itself, reveals a profound contradiction: the dream is alive, but it's haunted. 

Many people of colour will be feeling haunted, haunted by a time when they were terrified to walk down the street without being told to go home, chased or threatened with violence or had those threats turn into actual violence. Sadly those days aren’t in the past, the footage I saw from the recent ‘Unite the Kingdom’ protests were terrifying and ridiculous in equal measure.

People of colour were chased down the street and abused, while protestors from the same march draped in Union Jacks happily bought Indian, Afghan, and Polish food at Southbank Food Market. Are we welcome here or not? Or are we convenient scapegoats when the economy falters, despite the UK’s colonial past creating the very ties that brought us here?

My play isn’t just an ‘immigrant tale,’ it’s about the internal cost of being told your presence is a problem. The way you soften your accent. The way you adjust your ambitions. The way you learn to negotiate your existence every day. Britain still carries its colonial legacy, romanticising migrants as ‘hardworking’ while simultaneously branding us a burden. Our presence is continually questioned and our ‘merit’ often not enough. The UK is a masterclass in perpetual negotiation. Every visa, every permit, every double-fee master's degree is a test of your right to be here. 

So where do we go from here? What does theatre offer? How can it possibly contribute when everything can feel pretty hopeless? For me theatre is a way of breaking through the noise. It asks audiences to experience another person’s reality. In Dial 1 for UK, that means confronting both the dream of belonging and the pain of rejection. Theatre, unlike politics or protest, can hold those contrasts side by side for the audience and that’s why it matters now more than ever.

Performing the play has shown me these contradictions in real time. After one show, a white, middle-aged audience member asked me, ‘Tell me it’s better.’ They were crying, moved, but also surprised by stories I assumed they’d already know. I want white audiences to see us, to hear our point of view. But I also wonder: how are they reading this? With empathy? Curiosity? Guilt? South Asian audiences, meanwhile, tell me they feel seen. They recognise the struggles, even if they were born here, because those stories echo through families, through parents and grandparents who first came to Britain. Theatre becomes a space where these different reactions meet.

Theatre should confront the truth which is why we can’t sanitise our experiences. We can’t forget the past. After one performance, a South Asian man asked me why I use the word “P**i” on stage. My answer: because it happened. Denying the reality denies the violence of the word and it may not sound violent, but the connotation is there. The first time I heard it, I was almost confused,’I don’t even know what you’re talking about mate; I’m from India, you’ve got the country wrong.’ But whether they misnamed or not, the sting remains.

I don’t believe the vast majority of people in this country share the views of the protestors. I don’t believe they think Britain’s problems stem from people surviving on £49.18 a week from the Home Office after coming across the sea from some of the poorest countries in the world on a rubber boat risking death on the way. But believing isn’t enough right now. If you don’t agree with the protests and you value and enjoy multiculturalism, show your support in every way you can: write to your MP, call out racism, protest, support venues like Tara Theatre and global-majority businesses, and go to shows by Black and Brown artists.

Anyone who feels the way the protestors do might not see this piece, but they might see you reading it on the train then read it themselves, they might walk past a queue around the street for a show by a global majority artist or see a piece of content by a Black or Brown creator go viral with millions of views and shares and see that we are wanted and we are valued. 

I’m asking theatre bosses to be bold and programme work like mine. These stories aren’t just for South Asian audiences, Britain is the audience. The political climate thrives on division, but theatre can counter that with honesty and humanity. Dial 1 for UK exists to show that lives can’t be erased with slogans or banners. Lives are complicated, full of contradictions. And within those contradictions lies the possibility for change.

The stage is where I push for that change. In that shared space, I hope people shift, even if only slightly. And maybe, in those shifts, we can find the spark of change. I hope to see you there.

Dial 1 for UK is on tour around the UK until 20 November stopping Tara Theatre (16- 17 October) and Riverside Studios (29-30 October) in London. There are other dates in Southampton, Deby, Stafford, Colchester, Worcester, Newport, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Weston-super-Mare and Bedford.