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Written and directed by EJKLS Seni’s founder and artistic director Asyraf Syahir, If There is an Afterlife, I Hope It’s Your Version Instead of Mine ran at Pentas 2, KLPAC, from 22 May – 25 May 2025. A deeply personal tribute to Asyraf’s late mother, the play blends intimate storytelling with music, featuring original compositions by Asyraf himself, performed by a live ensemble.

The story examines the pain of watching a loved one wither away, the messiness of grief, and the enduring questions surrounding the afterlife. Although this theme echoes works like Mentega Terbang, the play offers something more tender and intimate in its portrayal of familial loss. 

READ MORE:Mentega Terbang – A Eye-Opening Contemplation About What’s Life After Death [Review]

While the story stems from Asyraf’s own life, its exploration of grief and healing is one many of us can relate to.

Adeline/TRP

Adeline/TRP

Adeline: Watching the actors portray their characters’ fear and grief of losing their mother gave me flashbacks. I lost my mum suddenly, and then my grandmother to cancer soon after. In both incidents, I can attest that the quietest part of the journey happens after the funeral. And the stages of grief are not linear. It is also the time where your faith or belief system is challenged to the max. Friends may try to understand but they cannot grasp the depth of your despair unless they have been through something similar.

Chandini: And yet, while grief and loss are universal experiences, it is a delicate path to traverse, and the play does seem to play it safe – a bit too safe, for my liking. Despite the themes being universal, personal stories can be difficult to resonate with if they are not properly expressed. There were many intimate texts between Asyraf, his mother, and his family, and real images of his mother’s journey with cancer projected to us on screen in If There is an Afterlife, but it is also this artistic choice that I felt robbed the play of the theatrical essence of “show, don’t tell.”

Adeline/TRP

Adeline/TRP

Adeline/TRP

At the heart of the story is the mother, Ma (played by Erie Woo), and her children Ryan (LeonieTunez) and Vanessa (Alya Armani), alongside their childhood friend Sofia (Myrra Baity Khan), who has also experienced the loss of her own mother.

Their interactions, especially the banter and lighthearted moments amidst the sadness, added much-needed levity to the otherwise somber tone.

It was nice seeing how the friends and siblings banter despite the looming grief over their heads. These lighthearted moments punctuate at the right time, breaking up the melancholic segments so it’s not all dread and sadness.

Adeline: Despite being bedridden most of the time, Erie managed to show us the bright light Ma was to everyone around her. Ryan, Vanessa, and Ma play a believable family unit from their playful bickering down to the somber moments. The play thoughtfully explores the challenges of faith during this trying time in a scene between Ryan and his mum. Like Ryan, I couldn’t understand how Ma could still fervently believe there’s an afterlife waiting after all she had been put through by a higher power. Ryan and the audience know praying will not reverse Ma’s diagnosis but her unshakeable faith provides some steely comfort to everyone watching.

Chandini/TRP

Adeline/TRP

Chandini: I agree that the themes were powerful, especially around coping mechanisms. But some choices felt overly direct. For instance, when characters discussed turning to substances or porn to numb their pain, those exact words – “cigarettes”, “pornography”, “self-harm” – were projected behind them. It felt like the play was trying to tell us how heavy the moment was, rather than trusting us to feel it through performance. Maybe if real life visuals were shown to us at the end instead of during, I would feel a lot differently.

(Adeline/TRP)

We both found strengths in the play’s earnest attempt to grapple with an incredibly painful subject, despite having some reservations about the choice of creative expressions. There were also dance elements integrated throughout the play that we felt didn’t really gel well with the rest of the performance, with no fault of the choreography itself.

While one will undoubtedly be moved by the familiarity, truth, and the personal courage it took to make this play, we can still hope for a bolder, more theatrically expressive restaging in the future.

Overall, If There is an Afterlife, I Hope It’s Your Version Instead of Mine is a sincere and vulnerable production, anchored by a real-life loss that gives it heart. Some might walk away in tears, others in quiet thought. Either way, this play opens up the space for reflection – and maybe that’s all that matters when it comes to grief.

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