In spite of his years of working in theatre and the arts, with plenty of comedy sketches both onstage and online, artist Hafidz Rahman is doing something he’s never done before – a full-length one-man show. Best known for his viral comedy videos on social media (@asonofapeach), Hafidz is set to premiere My Name Is (NOT) Khan this May, as part of the Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay’s annual Pesta Raya – Malay Festival of Arts.
Directed by Rizman Putra, My Name Is (NOT) Khan follows Harith, who’s defined by his love for Bollywood. He’s memorised the Navarasas, the Ankhein Khuli choreography by the beat, and every lyric of Bholi Si Surat. But Harith isn’t Indian – he’s as Malay as they come. Expect plenty of Bollywood film references, exploring what it means to be brown, and of course, samosas in the kitchen.
Naturally, as a character who’s about 80% based on himself, Hafidz of course, also holds Bollywood close to his heart, as he shares more with us. “The first Bollywood film I ever watched? Nangina; it was this 80s movie about a snake goddess, played by Sridevi, who marries a civilian to avenge the death of her spouse,” Hafidz recalls with a laugh. “What I remember most was how campy it was, and that was what really hooked me onto it.”
“But the movie that would really define my love for Bollywood was actually Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham… (2001). And it was this insanely melodramatic film about Indians living abroad, where the adopted son of a rich family, adopted son wants to marry a poor girl, and they disown him. I really loved it, and still watch it every now and then,” he adds. “In the last 15 years though, they’ve really paid more attention to storytelling, and Bollywood films are more streamlined, clocking in at maybe only two hours, with at best one song and a dance number. Sometimes, I miss the three-hour Bollywood movies.”
As his first full-length monologue, Hafidz finds the hardest part the memory work, having primarily done more short form content for the past few years. “They say write what you know,” Hafidz reflects. “This is almost parallel to who I am as a person—but there’s the advantage of speaking as a character rather than speaking as myself, where I’m allowed a bit more creative liberty and artistic license to build a character as the vessel for how I want to present these thoughts and issues. I hope that doing this show helps give audiences a different perspective of who I am beyond the comedy, where I can and do find a need to talk about being brown and what it means today.”
All eyes will be on Hafidz during the play, which he describes as ‘a man in a space’, where he will be cooking, arranging CDs and VCDs, and of course, dancing a little in a house, all while telling Harith’s story, with plenty of multimedia and audience interaction involved, letting him show off multiple talents and skillsets. It helps that he has a director who grounds him, and lets him play with all the possibilities the play offers. “The last time I worked with Rizman was Make Hantus Great Again, and having him on board is so great because he’s so wild, and can see things in a different light,” says Hafidz. “Rizman isn’t as Bollywood crazy as I am, so he brings that perspective as a non-fan when directing me, which is great because I want this show to appeal to both fans and people who may never have watched a Bollywood movie in their life.”
While comedic on the surface, My Name Is (NOT) Khan actually delves into some pretty topical issues, particularly with regard to race and identity. “This is a show that’s about coming to terms with being a Malay man obsessed with Bollywood, and this cross-cultural duality that could exist in any one of us, whether we are obsessed with K-pop, anime or wuxia films,” says Hafidz. “We are children of the world. We consume things beyond what’s in front of us—because of social media, etc. It’s okay to have certain preferences or relate to certain identities.”
“This is a very educational show. It’s a fun piece that deals with serious issues in a way where you might laugh, and then think wow, maybe I shouldn’t have laughed at that,” Hafidz says. “Even people who’ve never watched a Bollywood film should watch it. It’s colourful and informative, with all-encompassing themes that speak about being a minority, which also speaks to the majority. You don’t need to know one Khan from another, you come here to see what it means to celebrate being brown and just have fun watching me me onstage.”
Commenting further on his position as a Malay man in Singapore, Hafidz speaks of his own opinions and experiences. “In this country, sometimes the colour of your skin is a barometer for respect. Some get to represent the country, while some are considered lazy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes—fellow brown people who feel there’s no ownership or pride in being brown, so we try to fit into a mould and conform to a model,” says Hafidz. “I had this friend of mine refused to speak Tamil, to the extent that for the longest time, we thought she was brought up in a non-Tamil-speaking household. Then one day we heard her talking to her mum in fluent Tamil, and we realised she was extremely selective as to when to let that side of her come out, and reflects some degree of dissonance with one’s identity.”
What does being brown mean to Hafidz then? “You can be Malay but you’re allowed to enjoy all kinds of things. To me, to identify as a Malay person is someone who is comfortable presenting themselves as Malay. Someone who has no qualms about code-switching from Malay to English and back again, no problem putting on their baju melayu on a given day, and is just very into the culture, where they appreciate Malay and English songs on the same level,” says Hafidz. “It’s very hard for me to speak for other people, but the friends I keep are very comfortable with who they are, and that’s important to me.”
“At the same time it makes me sad when I see a kid who can’t speak in Malay— but I know it’s not their fault, it just happens to be the society they’re growing up in and what they consume. Even my Chinese friends say the same—no one in the new generation is speaking Mandarin fluently anymore,” he adds. “So the issues that emerge from this play, it goes beyond race, where we see people who are slowly losing touch with their roots and mother tongue. Is that a cause for concern? Maybe, but what I’m trying to do here is just to make us think about our identity, and how we ultimately want to define it for ourselves.”
On his career path, Hafidz is glad that he occupies multiple spaces, and is a bit of a chameleon where he can produce content, perform on stage, and work in education. “I started out working with SGAG—that was just a job where I created content online with the makcik persona. But parallel to that, I was also always involved in theatre, whether teaching or performing. With a bit of luck, I’ve managed to shift between these two worlds quite easily,” he says. “I guess I see myself as a working entertainer who harnesses the craft of theatre in all I do, whether on television or on people’s phones, regardless of medium. But my first love is and continues to be theatre, so I make sure I get involved in at least two productions to keep myself in it.”
“With the opportunity to perform at Pesta Raya, it’s a great opportunity, and helps a lot with my dream of moving towards more content-driven productions. Right now with my show Lepak Live at Capitol Theatre, it’s already growing into this increasingly mammoth production in terms of scale, with more and more content and dancers, and I’m excited to see what the future holds,” says Hafidz. “I’m game for anything that comes my way, and to see what else I can do, be it comedy or horror or content or monologues, and how far I can take it.”
My Name Is (NOT) Khan plays from 1st to 4th May 2025 at the Esplanade Recital Studio. Tickets available here
Pesta Raya – Malay Festival of Arts 2025 runs from 1st to 4th May 2025 at the Esplanade. Full programme and tickets available here
