"Welcome to Sparkhill, Birmingham, the capital of British Pakistan." "Community leader." "They all know me..." "You like my suit?" "Number one" " Citizen Khan." "KHAN HUMS" "I'm worried about Naani." "Me too." "Something's not right, is it?" "No." "What do you think's wrong with her?" "She's still bloody here, that's what's wrong with her!" "She was only supposed to be staying one week." "When's she going back to Pakistan?" "No, I mean she's not herself." "She's forgetful." "She just sits there all day, staring into space." "She's old lady." "What do you want her to do?" "Hokey bloody cokey?" "It says in my magazine that Naani's behaviour could be the first sign of, you know, losing it a bit." "Maybe I should call someone." "Good idea." "How about travel agent?" "If she doesn't perk up soon, she's not going back to Pakistan." "She'll just have to stay here with us." "What?" "!" "Aargh!" "Aargh!" "SHE SPEAKS IN URDU" "You scared the life out of me!" "KHAN CLEARS HIS THROAT" "Hello, Papaji." "Just doing my homework." "Such a good girl!" "All right, Naanijaan?" "Looking forward to going back Pakistan?" "It's got much better while you've been here, you know." "I hear they got a Nando's there now!" "Piri-piri chicken yum yum, isn't it?" "We can't send her back to Pakistan like this." "Of course we can." "She's fine." "Aren't you, Naanijaan?" "SHE SPEAKS URDU ...idiot!" "See?" "Perfectly normal." "Naani, you want a biscuit?" "It's a good one." "Custard creamy." "Nahin." "Come on." "Have a little biscuit." "Come on, come on, come on." "Dad!" "She's not a dog!" "I know that, Shazia." "Maybe she needs a walk." "You want to go walkies?" "This isn't right." "Look, there's a test in here." "Let's try it on her." "Ah, good idea, then you'll see." "Come on, come on!" "Naanijan, we just want to ask you a few questions, is that OK?" "Easy peasy." "Go on, ask her the first one." "OK." "Ready?" "Haan." "In one minute, name five animals you would find on a farm." "Five animals you would find on a farm, Naanijaan." "Sheep." "Sheep!" "Very good." "Any more?" "Sheep." "You said sheep." "Supermarket." "What?" "!" "I mean, what, what, what?" "Try to think, Naanijaan." "Pig." "Pig!" "Very good." "Only three more." "HE CLIP-CLOPS" "What are you doing?" "I think there's a leak coming from under the sink, sweetie." "Oh, no, time's up." "You did really well, Naanijaan, really well." "(She only got two!" ")" "Two's good." "In Pakistan, that's an A plus." "We can't send her back like this." "Of course we can!" "No, she's just going to have to stay here and live with us." "No bloody way!" "I'm not breaking the news to immigration." "Oh, hello!" "We're sorry, we've got one more." "She needs to get out more." "Get some stimulation, meet new people." "Maybe you could take her to the mosque!" "What, me?" "!" "But I'm getting on the mosque committee, sweetie." "Yes, OK, yes, I'll take her." "Good." "And you could sign her up for some classes." "Good idea - maybe we could start with bloody charades!" "There must be something on at the community centre you like." "Karaoke night." "That sounds good, eh?" "Come on!" "Everyone likes karaokes!" "Who could you do?" "Maybe one of the older lady singers, eh?" "Cher!" "No." "Diana Ross!" "No." "Lulu!" "d We-e-e-e-ll... d ...aah!" "Allah hu Akbar!" "SHE SPEAKS URDU" "I want you to go back home too, but Mrs Khan wants you to cheer up first." "Oh, how about Wing Chung Kung Fu self-defence class?" "Protect yourself from the muggers." "Ah ha-ha wooah..." "Ahh..." "Raargh..." "Salaam Aleikum." "Weleikum Asalaam." "It's all right, Naani, they're not muggers." "It's Omar and Riaz." "You remember the mother-in-law, don't you?" "Of course." "Salaam Aleikum." "I hope that Allah continues to bless you with a long and happy life, and may his bounty rain down upon your head always!" "Hello." "I'm trying to find her something to do." "Otherwise she just sits there staring into space." "My grandmother, back in Somalia, she had become very forgetful when she was old." "We were very worried, so we spoke to the village's traditional healer and he gave us some very good advice." "Yes, thank you, but I'm not feeding my mother-in-law some medicine made of snake's blood to drive out the evil spirits." "I was going to suggest Sudoku." "Just get her some tea and a biscuit, will you?" "I'm going to see the new mosque manager." "He's going to put me on the committee." "It's OK." "He's a good guy." "Oh!" "Have you met him?" "Yes, we have." "And is he one of us?" "Oh, yes." "Oh, thank God for that." "Things are going to be different around here." "Now we've finally got rid of ginger Dave." "I liked Dave." "Don't get me wrong." "I got nothing against ginger peoples in the mosque, but once you let one in, then the floodgates open." "We got to guard ourselves from this creeping gingerfication." "I'm like the brown finger in the ginger dyke." "Salaam Aleikum." "Aie!" "Who are you?" "I'm the new mosque manager." "Not again!" "I thought you said he was one of us?" "He is, he's an Aston Villa fan." "Up the Villa!" "No!" "There must be some kind of mistake." "We've already had a ginger manager, you see." "Sorry, I'm not with you." "The last mosque manager, Dave - he was also a ginger so we've done our bit for equal opportunities." "Hey, we're not all the same, you know." "I'm actually nothing like Dave." "What's your name?" "Dave." "Oh, God!" "And you are?" "Mr Khan, community leader, they all know me." "CLEARS THROAT" "Well, Mr Khan, I see this job as a great opportunity." "I want to concentrate on helping the little people of Sparkhill." "Ah, right, you mean the Bangladeshis!" "I want to try and help the underprivileged, the weak, the downtrodden, those who have lost all hope..." "In that case, you want Wolverhampton." "I'm not sure I follow." "Listen, Dave, all that stuff I said before about gingers," "I didn't mean you." "You're all right." "Thanks." "You're welcome." "You see, what you have to understand is, to get anything done round here, you need a "friend" on the mosque committee." "Oh, I see - are you on the mosque committee?" "I don't know, am I?" "I don't know, are you?" "I could be." "I don't understand." "There aren't any places on the mosque committee." "That's right." "Not any more, eh?" "Well, there was one, but I've already given it to someone." "What?" "Who?" "Right, come on, we've got to go." "Is there anything else I can help you with?" "No!" "He was looking for something for his mother-in-law." "To stop her going doolally." "I've got just the thing - a drop-in day today at the Community Centre." "Tea and biscuits." "Lots of company." "Sound good?" "No, thank you!" "We don't need any help from you." "Why don't you just go back to where you came from?" "I'll tell you this much, Dave, since you arrived, this mosque has gone really downhill." "CAR HORN TOOTS" "We're not going home." "I'm going to find something for you to do if it kills me." "Come on, come on!" "SHE SPEAKS URDU ...stupid man!" "I'm not taking you home!" "There must be somewhere you can go." "How about the hospital?" "Lots of old people there." "And you get a free biscuit!" "HORN BEEPS" "Get a move on!" "You're running out of time as it is!" "Here we are, see?" "This is more like it!" "Do the bingo with lots of other old people." "Not so many Pakistanis, but that's good." "You want to meet different types, put yourself about a bit." "Hello, there." "Are you here for the bingo?" "Yes, that's right." "Are you members?" "No, we're here for the bingo." "It is a members' club though, I'm afraid, so..." "I don't think you understand." "We don't want to join the club." "We're here to do the bingo." "You're here to do the bingo!" "I'm so sorry!" "Of course." "See, I wasn't expecting..." "It's OK - this is the mother-in-law." "I'm mainly doing it for her." "And her English is getting better all the time." "Go on, say something in English." "Bugger off!" "All right, settle down, boys and girls." "Settle down." "Let's get these balls rolling, and let's hear a warm Sparkhill Working Men's Club welcome for our guest caller tonight..." "Mr Khan." "Mr Khan!" "MICROPHONE FEEDBACK" "Salaam Aleikum." "Two." "Aren't you going to do "one little duck"?" "What?" "You know." "Like the bingo callers." "One little duck, number two." "What are you talking about?" "All the numbers have special nicknames." "Key of the door - 21." "Maggie's Den - number ten." "Sounds stupid!" "People like it." "That's why we've got a caller." "If you're not going to do it..." "All right!" "Chillax!" "Keep your knickers on!" "Right, let's see." "Number of times we pray." "Come on!" "Number of times we pray!" "Five a day, isn't it!" "Number of times we pray, five a day!" "Five!" "Number of prophets named in the Koran." "25!" "(What is it now?" ")" "I'm not sure this stuff is appropriate." "What?" "Well, I mean, some of them may not be familiar with Muslim culture." "They're all from Sparkhill, aren't they?" "Yes." "They're familiar with Muslim culture." "What did you do for Ramadan?" "Ate nothing." "Ate nothing!" "80!" "Come on, these are easy ones!" "I'm doing a campaign to get rid of the new mosque manager." "What do you think?" "Good, eh?" "Naanijaan, you don't have to do all this!" "SHE SPEAKS URDU" "You look after me, I look after you." "HE SNIFFS" "I now go upstairs to pack suitcase." "I'll call Pakistan and warn them you're coming." "These last few days, she's been so much happier." "I told you - there's nothing wrong with her." "There's a real spring in her step." "I know, it's the bingo." "They love it." "It was a bit of a surprise, them having bingo at the mosque." "Not really, my darling." "Islam is a very modern religion." "We've got all kinds of things at the mosque now." "Bingo, line dancing, over-60s' climbing wall." "CLEARS THROAT" "Hello, sir." "Hello, Amjad." "I'm learning to cook." "Why?" "This is the 21st century, Dad." "Men should pull their weight in the kitchen just as much as women." "That's right." "So, Shazia's going to teach me." "Me?" "I can't cook." "Mum'll do it." "All right." "Come on then, Amjad." "Let's get on with it." "OK." "You know, a lot of people think cooking isn't very manly." "But what could be more manly than providing food for your family?" "Quite right." "So, what do you want to begin with?" "Can we do cupcakes?" "Are you still doing your online prayers, sweetie?" "What?" "Oh, yes, Papaji." "Vah!" "I can't believe you can do your prayers online these days." "Neither can I." "But one thing, though, make sure you're facing this way." "Why?" "So that I'm facing towards Mecca?" "No, you get a better Wi-Fi signal!" "Did you know Naani's going away?" "Yes, yes." "It's a shame, but she's got to go back to Pakistan sometime." "No, she's not going to Pakistan." "She's gone to Bournemouth for the weekend with her new friend." "They've got a caravan, apparently." "Which new friend?" "The one she met at the bingo." "Oh." "I think it's nice." "Two old ladies having a nice time together." "Yeah." "It's not an old lady, though." "What?" "Naani's friend." "It's not a lady." "It's a man." "What?" "!" "It can't be a man." "Unless it's the imam?" "Or is it your Auntie Fatima?" "She looks a bit like a man." "It's not the imam, or Auntie Fatima." "It's a white bloke called Clive." "BOTH:" "What?" "!" "How do you know all this?" "It's on her Facebook page." "There's a picture of them - look!" "Oh, my God!" "It's him!" "Do you know him?" "No." "Dad..." "All right, yes." "So where did she meet him?" "At the bingo?" "Yes." "So he's a Muslim." "No." "But he was at the mosque?" "No." "So where was he, then?" "At Sparkhill Working Men's Club." "What?" "!" "It seemed like a good idea at the time." "She can't go to Bournemouth with a strange bloke she just met at a Working Men's Club." "What will the neighbours think?" "What will the mosque women's group say?" "Mum's going to go nuts!" "She mustn't find out." "How do we turn off the internet?" "What's going on?" "What is it?" "What's happened?" "Well, the thing is, sweetie..." "You know how Naani's been really chirpy recently?" "Haan." "Because she's been going to the bingo!" "Yes." "Well, there's another reason." "What other reason?" "You know the story about the snake and the mongoose..." "No." "Well, once there was this snake." "She was a very old snake and a bit grumpy and stuck in her ways, and no-one liked her very much." "But then one day she met a mongoose and they became friends." "And the snake community said, "No, you can't be friends with a mongoose." ""You're a snake." But after a while, the snake community calmed down and stopped bothering the old snake's family, and no-one really minded." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Naani's got a white boyfriend called Clive, they're going to Bournemouth together!" "What?" "!" "How did this happen?" "Where did she meet..." "Clive?" "Sparkhill Working Men's Club." "What?" "Sweetie!" "No-one needs to know." "It can be a family secret." "We'll just keep it with the others." "Dad, their photo's on Facebook!" "Everyone can see it." "Oh, my God!" "No-one's going to look at that." "She's not Britney bloody Spears!" "I don't care about all that." "I'm not letting my mother go to Bournemouth with some strange man." "You're right." "We'll lock her in her room." "We can push biscuit under the door." "How can she be friends with a man called Clive?" "I mean, they've got nothing in common." "Exactly!" "I mean, what have they been doing all this time?" "Oh, my God!" "You don't think..." "What?" "No way!" "What?" "No wonder she's been so cheerful!" "What?" "!" "Tang tang." "Hai!" "Hai!" "I got a little bit of sick in my mouth." "DOORBELL RINGS" "That'll be Naani's booty call!" "Naani, why didn't you tell us you had a new friend?" "And that it was a man?" "Called Clive?" "You never asked." "It's Clive." "Hello, there." "Hello, Hobnob." "SHE GIGGLES" "Hobnob?" "!" "It's my pet name for her." "Because she's so moreish." "Oh, God!" "So you're Naani's new friend?" "Yes, yes, we only met a few days ago." "But it's like we've known each other forever." "Really?" "Now we can't see enough of each other." "And at our age there's no point hanging about, is there?" "You've got to get on with it." "Ah, now." "Actually, I was born in India." "In the Punjab." "Long time ago, of course, but I've still got a bit of the old mother tongue." "Hai!" "And, of course, then there's always body language." "And we use our hands a lot." "Ah, she's very gifted in that way." "Hai!" "I mean, it can be a struggle, but somehow she manages to pull it off!" "That's enough!" "Now you listen to me, Clive." "There are some things you must understand." "What's that?" "There are boundaries." "She's an old Pakistani lady." "It's a cultural thing." "What do you mean?" "No tang tang!" "I can assure you there'll be nothing of that nature." "Don't give me that, Clive." "I'm a man of the world." "Honestly, Mr Khan, your mother-in-law and I are just very good friends." "Please!" "I know what your sort get up to." "We've seen those documentaries on Channel 5." "Now, look..." "Oh, no!" "Once you've had your way, you'll be bragging about it all over Birmingham!" "Her reputation will be ruined and you won't care." "Mr Khan, please!" "No." "To you, she's just another notch on the bedpost!" "So what?" "What?" "What's the big deal?" "She's happy, isn't she?" "Alia, beti, you are young and innocent and, with God's help, you'll stay that way forever." "You don't understand what's happening." "Whatever." "Naani wasn't happy and now she is." "What does it matter who her friend is?" "Or do you only care about what other people think?" "One minute." "Well, what do you think?" "I don't know." "Maybe Alia is right." "Maybe." "So, what do you want to do?" "Lock her in!" "Or send her to my sister's in Bradford on the coach." "There's no loo, but if she can hold off till Barnsley, they'll stop at a services." "Sweetie, if she wants to go, what can we do?" "We can't control her." "Once, it was her trying to control you, remember?" "You know when you were a young girl, 20 years old, and you went home to your mother to tell her that you'd seen this very handsome young man from the next village, and you wanted to meet him?" "Haan." "She refused to let me go." "But I went anyway." "That's right." "And then what happened?" "It turned out he was already married." "But then I met you on the bus on the way home." "Exactly, it was your lucky day!" "So, we should let her go to Bournemouth?" "Haan." "With Clive?" "Haan." "OK." "Right." "Mrs Khan and I have had a talk." "You can go to Bournemouth, with our blessing." "But you have to promise me one thing." "What's that?" "Separate caravans." "But really, there's no need." "Oh, yes, there is." "No, there isn't." "I think there is." "Honestly, Mr Khan, there isn't." "Well, just give me one good reason." "I'm gay." "That'll do it." "You don't look very gay." "Well, I don't tell people about it." "I'm the wrong generation, I suppose." "In my day, you kept it to yourself." "Quite right." "Not that there's anything wrong with being... of the gay." "I'm glad you think so." "Of course!" "I love gay men." "I mean, live and let live, isn't it?" "You're a supporter of gay rights, then?" "Absolutely." "Same sex marriage?" "Oh, yes!" "We Pakistanis been having same sex marriage for years." "Lights off." "Tang tang!" "Lights on." "Cup of tea!" "Very refreshing attitude." "I know some people struggle with the idea." "Clive, what you have to understand is that in Pakistan, men are men." "We're a very macho culture." "Who wants a cupcake?" "So I'll be back tomorrow to pick her up?" "OK." "You'll look after her, won't you?" "Don't worry." "Thank you." "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about..." "As I say, I like to keep it private." "Don't worry, Clive." "Your secret is safe with me." "Right." "Goodbye then, Clive." "Bye-bye." "Until tomorrow, then." "Au revoir, Hobnob." "Ooh!" "It's all right, he's gay!"