With just the two on-stage characters, there’s a lot of exposition rather than dramatization, and a lot of recollections of events that had already taken place. I think the actors would have been more than capable of personifying, for instance, the siblings’ mother, or at least some of the other pupils they regularly interact with, whether constructively and positively or not. I’m not sure the inclusion of an actual hamster, albeit in a suitable cage, added much to proceedings, though there are, at least, no concerns over animal welfare to report. Seventeen-year-old Asha is an empathetic rebel, inspired by historical revolutionaries and iconoclasts Sylvia Pankhurst and B R Ambedkar. She’s unafraid of pointing out the hypocrisy around her but less sure how to actually dismantle it.

The set itself is relatively simple, with the lighting and sound effects transporting the action to a dingy bus stop or a childhood bedroom. They also use smartphones to great effect, whether it’s Bettina showing pictures of the much sought-after hamster to her sister, or Asha being caught out – she’s not listening to Stormzy, she’s listening to an audio book about Sylvia Pankhurst. The minimalist stage of the Orange Tree Theatre lends itself beautifully to the play’s primary setting: the bus stop where the sisters wait after school. An indicator board gives the times of the next buses as they argue and banter, talking over their experiences at school, political figures, racism and Islamophobia. The setting gives these scenes an authenticity: the bus stop, and mundane outdoor spaces more generally, are familiar spaces of teenage reflection, particularly when contrasted with a tense or claustrophobic home environment. The presence of South Asian characters in British theatre is not the extreme rarity it once was. Whilst South Asians and people of colour more widely are still hugely underrepresented in theatre – as actors, writers, directors and in storylines – there has undoubtedly been some progress in recent years. What remains less visible, however, is South Asian characters engaging in rich discussions of history in all its complexity, from a questioning, left-wing perspective. If this is not for you, you should probably avoid playwright and Momentum activist Sonali Bhattacharyya’s Two Billion Beats, showing now at London’s Orange Tree Theatre.Nimmo Ismail's pacey direction means there is no lull in the energy of the production. Asha and Bettina constantly move; walking, climbing and once breaking into a joyful dance. There has been real consideration of the space of the Orange Tree, with Debbie Duru's simple design capturing the concrete surroundings of the girls' school. The play moves swiftly between many themes – racism, Islamophobia, intergenerational dialogue, sibling and parent/child relationships, political awakening, history – but these are woven together seamlessly and never feel jarring or overwhelming. The characters are not merely vehicles for political statements. Instead the play authentically captures an era in which coming of age is often synonymous with developing a progressive political stance.

There are articles in the show’s programme about B. R. Ambedkar (1891-1956), an Indian social reformer who spoke out against discriminatory policies affecting what were then known as ‘the Untouchables’ within Indian society, and about Sylvia Pankhurst (1882-1960), a British campaigner for the suffragette movement. The storyline makes clear why some biographical details are set out, and there are some interesting outcomes on Asha’s part as she tries to apply what she’s learned to her own circumstances. Duru invokes the girls’ landscape with minimal details – a bus-stop bench and a school ‘Main Entrance’ sign. Apparently the school is ‘outstanding in all areas’. The teachers do work hard. When Bettina interrupts a lesson on climate change with a question about asylum seekers (only ‘to look badass’) her teacher takes her seriously and gives her a book about Malala. You do realise, however, that school is sometimes a blunt instrument. Mrs L tells Ash to ‘draw examples from her own experience’ – Gandhi and Ambedkar being suitable. The essay on Sylvia Pankhurst is less successful – but is that really because she was a white woman, as Ash believes, or because Ash hasn’t fully understood her views? A complete contrast to her elder sister, Bettina is more interested in getting a pet hamster and pop music than in reading or politics. But her friendly persona and eagerness to please makes her a target of Adeel and some other boys, who rob her of the money she is saving to buy a pet. When she asks her more assertive sister for help, things at first get better and then soon spin out of control as both the teens discover that doing the right thing is not as easy as they expected. Bhattacharyya’s warmly sympathetic portrait of the two girls is the beating heart of the play, and she has a real talent for sibling dialogue, which is both emotionally true and comic. Asha is waiting to go home until their mum has left for work so she doesn’t have to talk about her history essay. She got 85%, but her mum only cares about the fact that she criticised Gandhi’s views on the Dalit, the lowest Indian caste of "untouchables". Asha admires B R Ambedkar, the lawyer (and Dalit himself) who played a key role in drafting the Indian constitution. Her mum thinks her teacher won’t be so complimentary when Asha goes for her heroes, the Pankhursts. Bettina just wants her sister to help her deal with Adil and the other bullies on the bus. And also a hamster, whom she plans on naming after Cardi B. Asha is full of righteous indignation at the way that the Dalit were (and are) treated, at the slander Sylvia Pankhurst’s pacifism provoked from her mother and sister. She’s compassionate but proud too, flush with teenage conviction that she is right. There’s a palpable change in Ingar when it becomes clear that a throwaway comment from Bettina could have a lasting impact on Muslim Adil’s life, as if we’re watching Asha grow up in front of our eyes.Safiyya Ingar and Anoushka Chadha beautifully portray the sisters with such depth and humour, pushing each other’s buttons with rage and burning sisterly love…Energetic and gripping.” North West End The function of heroes within an intrinsically racist society once again arises in Asha’s own relationship with Gandhi. She wonders whether her teacher is more comfortable with her writing critically on Gandhi and Ambedkar, ‘two brown dudes’, than on revered British heroine-figures the Pankhursts. This does not deter Asha, however, from adding Sylvia Pankhurst’s work to the mix as she strives to find her own political voice.

In Bhattacharyya’s entertaining play, two teenage sisters negotiate the battlefield of school while learning about the political battlefields of the past.” The Stage on Two Billion Beats as part of Inside/Outside Bouncing with wit, Sonali Bhattacharyya’s upbeat new play is a coming-of-age story about the unfairness of growing up in a world where you don’t make the rules. A blazing account of inner city British-Asian teenage life, this exhilarating world premiere asks what the cost of speaking up really is. The two actors have a nice, sparky chemistry together: Chadha is sweet and Ingar is sassy but there’s a real easy warmth between them and a sense of their care for each other. Two Billion Beats left me with much to process and reflect on, but one message came through clear: we must crucially examine our understanding of mainstream heroes. Such probing questions may just be a step towards radical social justice. the play authentically captures an era in which coming of age is often synonymous with developing a progressive political stance”Ultimately the play is rather let down by a degree of early-career shakiness. For starters, it’s weird to explicitly set it in Leicester and not bother with Leicester accents. A laboured attempt to indict Asha’s teacher of Karen-ist hypocrisy feels like it’s been approached completely wrongly (it hinges on the idea Emmeline Pankhurst is as big a sacred cow as Gandhi). And the bullying saga spirals out of control in a way that serves Asha‘s newfound philosophical beliefs well, but is, to be blunt, totally ridiculous. Directed by Nimmo Ismail, whose work includes Glee & Me by Stuart Slade and The Christmas Star by Russell T Davies (both Royal Exchange Manchester), Fragments by Cordelia Lynn and My England by Somalia Seaton (both at Young Vic), and SNAP by Danusia Samal (The Old Vic). She’s a don! I’ll be completely frank – I wasn’t aware of her work before this project. People of colour in this industry have to hustle and make our voices heard, so when I met her for the first time and she was like a Muslim Hijabi woman, I was like: I’m working with the best here, with the people that I need and I want to work with. In such areas, Bhattacharyya’s dialogue is beautifully nuanced between the competing forces of moral rage and personal yearnings, public affairs and private ones. Be ready for a lot of laughs, bring your siblings! Have those conversations and please just have fun. The last thing I want is for people to think this play is just about this deep social political commentary. It’s not just that, it’s about a deep familial relationship, it’s about competitiveness, about sibling rivalry, about school kids, Tik Tok, it’s all there. Come and have fun with us!