Ayesha’s Monologue from The Funeral Director by Iman Qureshi
"We were just friends..."
Overview of The Funeral Director
The Funeral Director by Iman Qureshi is a powerful exploration of love, identity, and cultural expectations in modern Britain. The play delves into themes of religion, sexuality, and belonging, centering on Ayesha, a Muslim woman grappling with her past and present. This monologue is an emotional confrontation, full of pain, longing, and unspoken truths, as Ayesha addresses someone who once meant the world to her.
Character Breakdown: Ayesha
Name: Ayesha
Age: Late 20s to early 30s
Background: Ayesha is a British Muslim woman, navigating the intersection of her cultural and personal identity. Her past is marked by a deep, formative friendship that turned into heartbreak.
Who the Character is Talking To in This Moment: Ayesha is addressing her former best friend, confronting them about the emotional impact of their departure and their inability to stand by her.
What’s Just Happened: Ayesha and her former friend are reunited after years apart. This monologue reflects her unresolved feelings of abandonment, envy, and betrayal.
The Monologue
"We were just friends. [...] At least you got to leave.
Beat.
Did you think about what things were like for me after you left? [...] Not enough to visit. To call.
Beat.
You thought it’d be easier? Easier for who?
Beat.
You know I ordered a prospectus? For your school. I’d never even heard the word prospectus before then.
Beat.
It looked so amazing, those old brick buildings and big green gardens, all the girls in blazers and ties and soft floppy pony tails. I could see you there. You fit right in. But me.
Shakes her head – ‘no’.
Every night I’d lie in bed wishing [I could be with you]. Wishing I could afford to be at that school. Wishing Mum could afford the thousands, tens of thousands of pounds it took to be there.
Beat.
I imagined getting the train down, with my suitcase and uniform. And meeting you there on the platform. Imagined the look on your face. I thought, soon as we were out of this shithole, away from St Mark’s, away from your mum, things could just go back to normal between you and me.
Beat.
Stupid, wasn’t I. To think that. Someone like me in a school like that. You say I had every right to be there.
Rights. What good are they for someone like me.
What am I meant to do with my rights? Where can I go? Rights.
You know, I really wonder how you manage to stand up for anyone in court because you could never stand up for me.
You were my best friend and you broke my heart.”
Suggested New Thoughts Chunking / Paragraphing
“We were just friends. [...] At least you got to leave.
Beat. Did you think about what things were like for me after you left? [...] Not enough to visit. To call.
Beat.”
Commentary: Ayesha’s restrained anger and sadness set the tone. The repeated pauses signal moments of internal conflict and emotional weight. Actors should use the beats to emphasize the underlying pain and betrayal.
“You thought it’d be easier? Easier for who?
Beat. You know I ordered a prospectus? For your school. I’d never even heard the word prospectus before then.”
Commentary: Ayesha’s bitterness becomes clearer here as she recounts her naive hope and longing. Actors can highlight her vulnerability while building to the mounting frustration.
“It looked so amazing, those old brick buildings and big green gardens, all the girls in blazers and ties and soft floppy pony tails. I could see you there. You fit right in. But me.
Shakes her head – ‘no’.”
Commentary: The imagery contrasts Ayesha’s idealization of the school with her awareness of her own perceived exclusion. This moment reveals her deep-seated insecurity and envy. Deliver it with a mix of wistfulness and self-deprecation.
“Every night I’d lie in bed wishing [I could be with you]. Wishing I could afford to be at that school. Wishing Mum could afford the thousands, tens of thousands of pounds it took to be there.
Beat.”
Commentary: Ayesha’s longing for a better life—and for her friend—is palpable here. Actors should lean into the quiet desperation and yearning, letting the pause reflect her unfulfilled dreams.
“I imagined getting the train down, with my suitcase and uniform. And meeting you there on the platform. Imagined the look on your face. I thought, soon as we were out of this shithole, away from St Mark’s, away from your mum, things could just go back to normal between you and me.
Beat.”
Commentary: This section highlights Ayesha’s naivety and her deep emotional attachment. Actors can use this to show her hopefulness, only to let it crumble as the beat shifts to disappointment.
“Stupid, wasn’t I. To think that. Someone like me in a school like that. You say I had every right to be there.
Rights. What good are they for someone like me.
What am I meant to do with my rights? Where can I go? Rights.”
Commentary: Ayesha’s disillusionment comes to the forefront here. Her rhetorical questioning conveys her frustration with systemic inequality and her personal feelings of inadequacy. Emphasize the rising anger and despair.
“You know, I really wonder how you manage to stand up for anyone in court because you could never stand up for me.
You were my best friend and you broke my heart.”
Commentary: The monologue’s conclusion is deeply personal and devastating. Ayesha lays bare the betrayal she feels, her pain raw and unfiltered. Deliver this with quiet intensity, letting the weight of her words linger.
Journey Keypoints
Hook: Ayesha begins with restrained anger and sadness, confronting her friend for their abandonment.
Turning Point: The description of the school and her unfulfilled dreams reveal her longing and the disparity between them.
Climax: Ayesha’s disillusionment with the concept of rights and her friend’s perceived betrayal escalates her emotional intensity.
Resolution: The final declaration of heartbreak ties together her sense of loss and lingering resentment.
Performance Tips
Honour the Pauses:
The beats in this monologue are crucial. Use them to reflect Ayesha’s internal struggle, letting the silence speak as much as her words.Build the Emotional Arc:
Ayesha’s monologue moves from restrained sadness to bitter frustration and finally to heartbreak. Allow the emotions to build naturally, avoiding melodrama.Engage with the Audience:
Ayesha speaks directly to her friend, but the audience becomes the silent witness. Use eye contact and shifts in tone to draw them into her story.
Learn with Acting Coach Scotland
Ayesha’s monologue demands emotional depth, nuance, and a strong connection to the text. At Acting Coach Scotland, we help actors uncover the layers in complex characters like Ayesha, ensuring your performance is authentic and impactful.
