DI Ray spoilers follow.
When it comes to South Asian representation on TV, there's always a risk that writers will fall into the trap of perpetuating stereotypes – think terrorists, young women controlled by their families and honour killings, with all brown characters written as some amalgamation of South Asia's very distinct religions, cultures and languages.
New ITV crime drama DI Ray, however, takes a step in the right direction, representing a British Asian experience that will feel familiar to many.
What to Read Next
The four-part series follows DI Rachita Ray (Bend It Like Beckham's Parminder Nagra) as she's appointed to a CSH — a term she later learns refers to a 'culturally specific homicide.' Arguably a token promotion thanks to the colour of her skin, Ray faces constant microaggressions and expectations about her experiences as she investigates what her superiors assume to be an honour killing between a Hindu and Muslim family.
As the case progresses, Ray is pushed to make arrests and press charges on cultural assumptions, but her instinct tells her otherwise — and might just lead to an unexpected turn in investigations. Ray's colleagues are clearly disappointed in her for not living up to their expectations of a brown person, but it's actually Ray's understanding of these racial stereotypes that leads to her cracking the case, seeing beyond skin colour.
The microaggressions start in the very first scene, where DI Ray is assumed to be a corner shop worker as she picks up some wine. Next, a receptionist hands her the lanyard of another South Asian officer, but not before her superintendent had asked her the dreaded question, "Where are you from, Ray?" Her answer of "Leicester, Sir" isn’t enough, so he probes further. "What's your heritage?" he pushes.
Throughout the series, Ray is continually expected to be able to connect to the Hindu, Muslim and Sikh families involved in the investigation, whether that's speaking their language or having some deeper understanding of South Asian customs and practices. Instead, the only other language Ray speaks is a smattering of GCSE Spanish, and she describes her parents as not "Indian-Indian." Her mum was more likely to listen to The Archers than Bollywood music, she says.
Instead, Ray relies on the "interpersonal skills" of Sikh PS Tony Khatri, played by Maanuv Thiara (Landscapers) to communicate and smooth over her fumbled attempts at relating to these families – a well-intentioned comment on celebrating Holi is delivered at completely the wrong time of year.
DI Ray's lack of tick-box Asian-ness doesn't go unnoticed by suspect Navin Kapoor, played by Ryan McKen (Zomboat, Temple). He calls Ray a 'coconut' while he's being handcuffed under suspicion of the murder — if you don't know, a coconut is brown on the outside, white on the inside. You can figure out the rest.
But it's not just others who question if Ray is Asian enough – she grapples with her own insecurities, as shared with a female Asian counsellor (a "happy accident," apparently) in episode 2, which also features a gruesome twist.
Ray talks about her upbringing, explaining how her mum arrived in the UK at 6 years old and her dad at 15, referring to her lack of Indian culture growing up. She later confides to PS Khatri that she doesn't really know what "our lot," as he refers to them, are like, considering she's never dated an Asian guy because all the Asian kids stuck together at school. "At school," he responds, raising an eyebrow. It's clearly something that Ray has carried through her adult life.
While I can't speak for all British South Asians, it's a feeling that will no doubt resonate deeply with second and third-generation immigrants like myself, who might not be raised around the music, language and lifestyle their parents or grandparents might have lived.
We're expected to act a certain way or know certain things because of our skin, even by other British Asians, but that's not always the case – often we've been shielded from those very things to avoid the racist abuse our families faced, which in the end leaves us living in a sort of nowhere land, longing for acceptance. Clearly not white, but not effortlessly clicking with British Asians.
As Ray puts it: "I've spent my whole life trying to fit in. It's never worked. I'm not Indian enough for the Indians and I'm not white either," she says.
With a writing team that includes Line of Duty's Maya Sondhi and directed by Bridgerton's Alex Pillai, both South Asian themselves, it maybe shouldn't come as a surprise that DI Ray feels more nuanced and authentic than most other representations on screen.
The show still features nosey aunties encouraging guests to eat and drink chai, hallmarks of most Asian households and stereotypes we'll happily admit are rooted in fact, but it's hard to describe how heartening, and overdue, it is to see recognition of different religions and cultural practices within a South Asian cast without it being about terrorism.
While yes, there are projected tensions between a Muslim and Hindu family, a theme we saw play out in 2020's A Suitable Boy, these serve as a plot point, and we also see jokes between Ray and Khatri about only having one life to live, "but not for you Hindus".
Later on, we see Ray go to a Sikh gurdwara, although of course she forgets her chunni and doesn't seem quite sure of how to approach the prayer room – you usually offer a small donation at the front of the room before touching your head to the floor in front of the Guru Granth Sahib (the holy book).
Talk of parantha and nanis is also not exoticised or used to show how different Ray and Khatri are, instead it flows freely as they share a drink at the pub. Yes, a drink, because not all brown people are Muslim, despite an assumption from Ray's fiancé's parents at one dinner. And all in a prime time slot on ITV?
DI Ray comes after other notable South Asian representation on screen; as mentioned, 2020 saw the BBC adapt Vikram Seth's epic A Suitable Boy, while Mindy Kaling's Never Have I Ever took a positive step forward (even if it didn't land an Emmy). We hardly need to mention the Sharmas in Bridgerton, whose leading lady Simone Ashley left Sex Education's Moordale to cavort with Dukes.
These shows don't all tackle the same issues we see in DI Ray, or even racism at all, but nor should they – we need a wealth of South Asian stories on screen that truly showcase the diversity of our experiences. So thank you, DI Ray, for making this South Asian feel seen.
DI Ray concludes tonight (May 5) at 9pm on ITV.

Isabella is a freelance journalist who has written on young women's issues, entertainment, TV and film, South Asian representation, mental health, dating and so much more. She has bylines in ELLE, Cosmopolitan, Good Housekeeping, Prima, Digital Spy, Women's Health, and Harper's Bazaar, and was named 30 Under 30 by MediaWeek, PPA and We Are The City. She was also shortlisted for Workplace Hero at the Investing In Ethnicity Awards and Hero of the Year at the European Diversity Awards. Follow Isabella on Instagram, Twitter and LinkedIn.





























