Writing

I have three brothers and a sister. The dynamic between us has always been distinct. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

My mother was adopted when she was two. Her adoption has affected all subsequent relationships in her life, especially those with her husband and children. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

My parents have been married for 40 years. When people congratulate them on it, my mum replies, “Well, we endured it.” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

When I ring my parents’ house and my dad answers the phone, the­ conversation goes like this, “Hi Dad, how are you?” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

Before I became a comedian, I was a science teacher in an East End comprehensive. My parents were happy with this profession; it was respectable, sensible and, they thought, a good asset to ­obtaining a better class of husband. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

I love my younger sister, in a Noel and Liam Gallagher kind of way. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

I was brought up in a family of five brothers and sisters. That’s a lot these days, so people often ask, “What was it like?” The answer is, competitive. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

“What’s love got to do with it?” my mum shouted at me and my brother this week. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

My dad communicates with his children via newspapers. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

I do admire my mother for her audacious hope. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do, said Philip Larkin. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza: Diary of a disappointing daughter”

I have fantasies. Some are filthy, some abominable and some are appealing. But they have all remained just that: fantasies. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

Someone sent me an email recently. It said, “We have been observing you and we have reached our verdict. You are shit. You are a waste of space and a total disgrace.” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I had some bad news this week. My manager informed me of this news via email. It was like hearing about the death of a loved one via pigeon. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I am in New York. I just arrived for a meeting with a publisher, who walked in and said, “I’m so sorry I’m late, it’s been a hectic…” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I love the ordinary. Ordinary people, ordinary life, ordinary conversations about the price of eggs. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

It is Sunday 8 November, 2009. I walked into a restaurant this evening, to see a 6ft Christmas tree in the entrance, fully decorated with a gold angel at the top, Christmas lights and balls and tinsel running all over it. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I was performing at a small pub in Kidderminster last week. After the show, a young white man approached me. He said, “I really like you – will you come out for a drink with me?” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

Everyone does things for attention. When I was nine, I set my mum’s dustbin on fire and wore her gold jewellery to school without her knowing. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

The Queen invited me to Buckingham Palace this week. Me,from the slums of Birmingham to Buckingham Palace. I could hardly contain myself. I entered the Queen’s Ballroom to find 400 other Asian people. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

Chelsea v Liverpool, Sunday afternoon, Stamford Bridge. My friend John, a Chelsea season ticket holder and a very nice, well-mannered, middle-class, political man, says, “Shazia, I’m going to takeyou to a football match. It’ll be a real experience for you.” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

The kitchen is the most important room. All domestic, erotic and world-changing events happen in the kitchen. Everyone can feel sexy and daring in a kitchen, even someone called Gordon. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

An artist called me up this week: “Can I interview you about your ideas on heroism?” he asked. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

It is incredible the things people will tell a total stranger in the most unlikely situations. I had just finished a gig a few days ago when a man approached me. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I had a phone call this week from a national newspaper asking me, “Shazia, do you think the 40 lashes facing the Sudanese woman for wearing trousers is too much or too little?” Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

Charity is alive and well, but the lengths that people go to… “Oh,but it’s for charity,” is always the line to coax me into doing the ridiculous. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

I am in Malmö, Sweden. To get here, I flew into Copenhagen, Denmark, where my driver very excitedly informed me that he would be driving me under the sea. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”

The concept of holidays is relatively new to me. My dad always used to say, “You can have a holiday when you’re dead. Continue reading “Shazia Mirza’s Weekend Column”