Last night my wife and I were deeply moved by Jacob Rajan’s solo drama Krishnan’s Dairy. This play was the first of three brilliant one man shows – The Candlestickmaker and The Pickle King being the other two – written and performed by Rajan in partnership with Justin Lewis and their Indian Ink theatre company. While Rajan has won many awards here and overseas he has not received the fame he richly deserves. He is an exceptionally gifted writer and performer. If he were a rugby player he would be up there with Dan Carter or Richie McCaw, but sadly our culture does not value an actor/playwright of genius the way we reward someone who can kick a ball.

In Krishnan’s Dairy, Rajan plays four parts, Gobi Krishnan, his wife Zina, their son Apu and the Indian Emperor Shah Jahan who had the Taj Mahal built in memory of his wife. A rapid change of masks, a more subtle change in voice and body language and Rajan becomes another completely believable person on stage. Packed with humour, pathos and some wonderful music, the play – more than an hour long – seemed over all too soon. The staging was very simple but with the clever use of sound effects and lighting it was a sensitive, delightfully funny and surprisingly powerful study of love’s poetry and prose.

Make the effort to see at least one of Rajan’s performances – among the best theatre experiences our country has to offer, but be warned… Rajan has changed the ending of Krishnan’s Dairy so that even if you have seen it before, you’ll be left feeling profoundly sad.

For me Krishnan’s Dairy has thrown a spotlight on the role of immigrants in Aotearoa/NZ. Gobi Krishnan is an unlikely hero – a loyal, well meaning little man, working long hours in his dairy for low returns, trying so hard to be friendly and successful in this new country but encountering too much of the racism and violence in our society which we would like to deny or ignore. Krishnan represents thousands of immigrants doing their best to cope with a different language and culture, trying to make a better life for their families but often being trapped in poverty and powerlessness. After watching Rajan’s play I found myself again grieving for the 22 year old who was murdered in his parent’s South Auckland dairy last year.

We used to pride ourselves in Aotearoa/NZ on being a classless and tolerant society but a huge rift now exists between the families whose offspring play polo at a private school and the immigrant asians who clean their houses. Most noticeably in Auckland we have developed an underclass who are doing most of our menial and poorly paid jobs. Some will escape poverty trap by hard work and enterprise. Their children will graduate into the ranks of the affluent, educated elite but some will remain at the bottom for generations struggling with debt and being preyed upon by loan sharks and unscrupulous merchants.

Ultimately our country – or any country – cannot be healthy and whole, peaceful and prosperous until all its people are being fairly treated and equally encouraged. Any society which harbours prejudice and injustice will suffer the sicknesses of crime and violence.

One small thing we do to make Aotearoa a happier, healthier place is accept that we are all immigrants. Even the Maori, our tangata whenua, immigrated here somewhere between a thousand and 600 years ago. My mother was born in England. My father’s grandfather and his wife also came from England but I am not half English, or European, I am 100% kiwi and I celebrate the fact that many of my kiwi brothers and sisters come from Fiji, Samoa, Tonga, South Africa, India, China, Thailand, the UK, Russia, Chile and many other parts of the world.

Hopefully this realization that we are all descended from immigrants and that we live in a magnificently multi cultural country will help us welcome new arrivals to our shores.

I’ve learned a lot from my Palestinian friend who works the shelves at Pac n Save and when I finally reach checkout I enjoy chatting with the women who make up a united nations of different ethnicities. I love sharing our TEAR Fund building with a big asian supermarket, wandering round smelling the spices and exchanging salaams with the staff. I’m proud that I’ve been able to help a young Congolese friend through the quagmire of a Permanent Residence application and that soon (God and Immigration willing) he will become one of our friendliest and finest citizens.

When my sons left home I was reluctant to take in boarders but now our family includes a brilliant young Indian pastor, an affectionate Korean high school student and a lovely young English lass who is now engaged to our Indian son. We have been immensely enriched by sharing their lives.

In our great global village every city (except perhaps the most inaccessible) is becoming more cosmopolitan. The world’s population is more mobile, more fluid than ever before and climate change is likely to dramatically increase migration worldwide. We can react to this change with fear, with a fortress mentality, trying to desperately hang on to our little patch of paradise. Or we can choose to keep our hearts and our doors open.

Krishnan’s Dairy not only provides a brilliant night’s entertainment it also encourages us be more understanding, generous and even loving towards our new neighbours, so as Jacob Rajan tours in Aotearora and much further afield he is being an outstanding ambassador and a peacemaker on the world stage.

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