An Indian Abroad is a very funny play. The premise is a pastiche on the idea of Britons travelling abroad for “gap yahs” – looking for adventure in foreign lands (where they only mix with other white people). Krishnan is a young South Indian man who travels to the UK where he spends all his time in Luton, Bradford, and Birmingham, hanging out with aunties and cousins, and living his gap year experience. Krishnan samples the local cuisine (“this pasty is definitely not vegetarian”), meets the natives (“this changes everything … I didn’t realise you were black”), and has a brush with the NHS (“three hours to get an x-ray”).

Pariah Khan has achieved something thoroughly delightful in the character of Krishnan. His warm depictions of the people he meets and the scenarios in which he finds himself leaves the audience laughing helplessly (I can only apologise to the man next to me about my prolonged fit of giggles when Krishnan was singing ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’). But the feeling of isolation and otherness stays with the audience much longer than the hour-long duration of the play, particularly the moment in which Krishnan realises that he has been more hurt by his white girlfriend’s constant and casual racial microaggressions than by the obvious racism hurled at him by an EDL member in the street.

Khan understands the power of a good silence better than almost any comedian I’ve seen. He holds every joke for what seems like a beat too long, except it is absolutely perfect timing, as his facial expressions in these moments have the audience in stitches. With precision, smart observational writing, and a small selection of props, Khan has created something really wonderful – a warm, funny, and though-provoking piece of theatre.   ★★★★☆    @BookingAround    21^st March 2019