Growing up in Carlingford, Sydney, Ahilan Ratnamohan never learnt Tamil. A polyglot who can navigate European languages with ease, The Tamilization of Ahilan Ratnamohan, performed by Ahilan and his mother Mala, recounts the true story of a second-generation Tamil migrant as he struggles to learn his mother tongue.
Performed in a small rehearsal room within Bankstown Arts Centre, the set cultivates a sense of intimacy from the moment you enter. The formality and boundaries you would expect from a play are discarded, with Ahilan and Mala not so much “playing” themselves as simply being themselves.
As the audience enters, Ahilan and Mala paint Tamil words on the back wall. Ahilan sits on a stool downstage, eye level with the audience as he delivers the script. The veracity is increased by real time interjections from Mala, soft chuckles and gentle corrections of Ahilan’s Tamil pronunciation. Ahilan’s theatrical presence is consistently undercut by his mother’s authenticity as they recounts stories from his childhood. It feels less like a play, and more a conversation with a friend. This breaking down of performance and reality then provides the backdrop for Ahilan’s exploration of language and identity.
He recounts his struggle with Tamil, how despite his several attempts to learn it — through textbooks, friends, and finally 7 years of Skype lessons with his mother — the language remains slippery and elusive.
In his opening address Ahilan compares the state of being an actor to the state of learning a language; in the same way that acting is like existing as a hyper version of himself, speaking Tamil feels like a character he is putting on. The play becomes an exercise in language learning itself. “If I could not speak Tamil,” he asks the audience, “could I perform it?” And so, though defaulting back into English at times, he attempts to deliver the entire script in Tamil whilst Marla operates a slideshow with the English translation in the background.
Just as performance and reality are broken down, shifting thus becomes central to the play. We shift between English and Tamil, between performance and conversation, between Australia and Sri Lanka, Carlingford and Jaffna; both the real Jaffna and the Jaffna of Ahilan’s imagination. The play’s refusal to be static thus conveys Ahilan’s central identity crisis — the permanent state of “in between” he feels as a Tamil-Australian.
In Ahilan and Mala’s hands, Tamil is more than a language. It becomes a gateway through which Ahilan connects with his heritage and family, who, after their migration to Australia, struggle between maintaining their cultural identity and fitting into the hostile culture of 1980s Sydney. Alihan recalls the frustration he feels at his father’s refusal to speak Tamil with him, only to later discover his father watching reruns of the news and softly repeating the words back to the television in an attempt to perfect his Australian accent. Whilst Ahilan craves closeness to his Tamil identity, or his “Tamilization,” he must witness his father’s attempt at a kind of “Australianisation.” The relationship between Ahilan and Tamil mirrors the relationship between parent and child; frustrating, at times incomprehensible, but ultimately an inescapable part of him. With Mala on stage, respect between mother and son is palpable, the term “mother-tongue” taking on a literal meaning as Mala patiently guides Ahilan through his Tamil lessons.
Beautifully written and delivered, The Tamilization of Ahilan Ratnamohan is a unique and intimate piece of metatheatre that transcends traditional boundaries of theatre and reality. Be sure to catch its short run during the Sydney Festival, and leave enough time to check out the art gallery afterwards.
Disclaimer: Honi Soit recognises that this show was performed as part of the Sydney Festival 2025. We condemn the recent controversy surrounding the censoring of a recognition of the genocide in Palestine. Acknowledging and supporting Palestine is not ‘confronting’ or ‘distressing’, it is necessary. We will be reviewing multiple shows within the Sydney Festival 2025, not because we agree with the recent incident, but because many of the artists performing are small, local artists who deserve to be platformed.
