Meera Syal: You Ask The Questions

(Such as: so, why do you think some older members of the Asian community find your programmes offensive? And what are chuddies?)

Meera Syal, 39, was born in Essington, near Wolverhampton, and studied English and drama at Manchester University. She wrote and starred in the ground-breaking Asian comedy series Goodness Gracious Me, and her TV appearances include The Kumars at No 42 (pictured below), Absolutely Fabulous and Linda Green. Her novels Anita and Me and Life Isn't All Ha Ha Hee Hee have sold more than a million copies. She wrote the script for the musical Bombay Dreams and wrote and starred in the film of Anita and Me, which has just been released. She lives in east London with her daughter Chamila.

Is it true that, like Meena in Anita and Me, you grew up in a mining village? What was it like?
Donna Jones, Manchester

Yes, absolutely true. It was a tiny village in the Black Country wedged between Cannock and Wolverhampton. There was glorious scenery surrounding a defunct pithead, one shop, one church and loads of two-up-two-downs with outside lavs. Social life for kids revolved around the park, cornfields and the Methodist church, which is why I know pretty much every Wesleyan hymn going. Before you think this sounds too much like a Brummie version of The Wonder Years, it was poor, cold (especially when visiting the aforesaid outside loo in winter), and cut off, save for an occasional rickety bus service. But there were great people and loads of broad-armed matriarchs. And most importantly, I grew up a free sprit. In a nutshell, it was a blend of Crossroads and Twin Peaks.

Which comedians do you admire? What do you make of the Muslim comedian Shazia Mirza?
Katy Spender, London

Eddie Izzard, Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders, Steve Coogan, everyone in The Office and Goodness Gracious Me and The Kumars... oh and anyone who knows me. And Kathy Burke, you are a goddess. I think Shazia Mirza is compelling because she's literally going where no woman has gone before, and not many blokes come to that. It's all happened really quickly for her so I hope she's allowed time to tread that virgin snow on her own terms.

What are chuddies?
Hilary Warner, by e-mail

Um, how can I put this...? Pants. "Kiss my chuddies" is the Punjabi version of "eat my shorts", I guess. Chuddies, I am delighted to inform you, is now in the Oxford English Dictionary and therefore can be legitimately used in Scrabble.

Bombay Dreams did not impress the critics, but I loved it. What, do you think, turned them off?
Lola Ferreira, Brighton

Thanks for that – you and several thousand other people seem to think the same way, judging by the box office. After the reviews came out was pretty weird. I remembered all the stinkers verbatim. Interestingly, it was mainly the broadsheets who didn't get it, probably for the same reasons that they don't like many musicals – they don't stand up to pages of sociological analysis.

Do you still read palms? If not, why not?
Saxon Bales, Hastings

Good grief, where did you dig this up from? Do I now have to confess my secret life as Madam Meera, "A Smile, A Joke And Chicken-entrail Analysis At No Extra Cost"? I have dabbled in many things, some have become passions, others mistakes. I'll leave you guessing which one this is.

I love your character, Granny, in The Kumars at No 42. Are there any real-life inspirations for this role?
Rod Clarke, Stowe-on-the-Wold

Granny Kumar is a blend of a number of older Indian women I've met over the years, all of whom shocked and then surprised me with their frankness and spirit. Like most people, I had an image of what an Indian granny should be: grey haired, clad in white, serene or maybe saddened with the wisdom of their years. Bit of a shock, then, to find they are the ones on lead vocals during the dirty hen-night ditties, or the ones who don't give a toss because they've been there, done it and got the T-shirt. I realised that these women had always been either somebody's daughter, then wife, then mother and grandmother, with no independent existence in between these roles. So for some of them, widowhood was the first time they got to call the shots.

So, have you become part of the establishment now?
Vanisha Shah, London

Like Groucho said, I wouldn't want to be a member of any club that would have me.

Why do you think some older members of the Asian community find your programmes offensive? Do you regret any of your projects?
Lizzie Perkins, Crawley

It would be a sad reflection on any satirical programme if no one ended up taking offence at some point. However, going out to offend deliberately is not something anyone working on either The Kumars or Goodness Gracious Me ever intended; it's far too easy to get a knee-jerk reaction or use shock tactics to get noticed. Unfortunately, there are so few Asian-themed comedies that we all become burdened with the weight of representation. So suddenly The Kumars are meant to be a realistic and definitive version of all Asian families... er, no. And regrets, I've had a few – mainly about my choice of hairstyle during the late Eighties.

Did you find it difficult to get jobs when you were starting out as an actress? What was the worst role you ever took?
Kat Ford, Guildford

The hardest part of acting is getting the damn job, never mind all those weeks of fencing and iambic pentameter classes. My first seven years as an actress were all in the theatre, working in new plays at theatres such as the Royal Court, Hampstead and Stratford East. Luckily, I hit London around the time theatres were embracing multi-racial casting, but TV work was remote and mostly embarrassing. My first TV job was in The Bill; I had to run down Whitechapel High Street shouting "There's a bomb in the restaurant" – in an Indian accent. More offers followed: victim of arranged marriage; sister of victim of arranged marriage; caring doctor (one line); caring social worker (one line and some car-driving action); caring barrister torn between her client's demands and worry about her cousin's arranged marriage (expressed in one line)... At this point I started writing.

I was fascinated by Anita and Me's story of an Asian girl who idolises a white friend. Did you experience something like this?
Michelle Stevens, Darlington

Like all pre-pubescent girls, I idolised the older, gum-chewing, sneery teenage girls who had attitude and bosoms. There were a group of them I used to follow round clonking in my mum's slingbacks, running their errands, honking at their jokes. In the Seventies, according to Jackie magazine, only blondes ever got the job/guy/modelling gig. Self-hatred is probably the basis of most obsessive attachments, this yearning to literally be merged with somebody else, and according to all the images around me, girls who looked like me were unlovely or invisible. Once I'd been reminded by my mother that in 1966, Miss World was not only Miss India, but she was also a doctor, my obsession vanished.

'Anita and Me' is now on general release