From the Diaries of Khushi Kumari Gupta
Wednesday 11th October- 5:50PM
So Payal got me this diary for my birthday and I have just never used it. It’s kind of cool in that it looks like a book from the front and side but when you open it, it’s actually a notebook. This should make hiding it from all the nosy nelsons constantly wandering into my dorm room fairly easy.
Nobody, but nobody, is going to look through my bookshelf and decide they are in the mood to read a little bit of Civilization by Clive Bell.
Payal thought that was funny. Because I would be writing about people and “civilisation” in my diary so it’d be really clever to have that as the title. I am semi-tempted to just buy the actual book and copy it out to prove her wrong, but that would be a monumental waste of my time and when I gave it to her, Payal would just look really confused and say something like “Khushi… why would you waste so much time doing this?” And I wouldn’t have a response.
Anyway, yesterday was her birthday and I totally had plans to take her on a day trip to London so we could just waltz up and down Kensington High Street and try on clothes we couldn’t afford and go into that weird stationary shop that smells really nice but exclusively sells, like I said, really really weird stationary before ultimately eating at one of the unnecessarily expensive restaurants (my treat- though seriously, who pays £50 for pasta? Thank yooou Groupon) where I would give her her present (I would have pretended to go to the toilet and then quickly rushed back and bought whichever item of clothing she had loved the most and put back most unwillingly).
But no.
She instead spent the entire day being whisked off on a romantic trip to some stupid nearby village by her stupid Boring Boyfriend where he had rented a stupid quaint cottage for them to spend the stupid night in.
She’s having a birthday dinner tonight for all her friends, and I am invited to it. And I mean, it’s not like I’m immature enough to just not go (I am 20 now, for goodness’ sake, I can’t keep being a brat), but it does suck that this is the first time in those 20 years that I have not spent Payal’s birthday with her.
Growing up sucks.
You may be wondering how I spent my day instead. Well, I re-watched The Vow for the 37th or so time and ate my way through an entire Grab Bag of Sensations Thai Sweet Chilli crisps.
Note to self: Go on a diet immediately.
So, now that that’s over, I should probably start my actual diary. Do I do a “Vital Statistics” type thing since this is the beginning? Every time I’ve tried to start a diary before, that’s what I’d do. I saw it once in Tracey Beaker (Jacqueline Wilson was like gospel when I was 10) and just thought it was quite cool. But I guess I’m probably a little too old for that. I suppose if I write it as prose that makes it slightly better.
My name is Khushi Kumari Gupta, I’m 20 years old and currently a 2nd year Law student at the University of Sarton. Oh yes. I go to that place. Contrary to popular belief, it’s really not full of highly posh White people- there are a lot of them around sure, but there are enough East Londoners around that we give the HPWPs a solid education in why exactly putting on a bindi and putting their hands in the prayer position while moving them side-to-side does not make them Gandhi. And is actually kind of super annoying.
Also maybe racist. Culturally insensitive at the very least.
My favourite colour is purple and my favourite flavour of ice cream is raspberry ripple (this should really be the favourite ice cream flavour of any sentient human being). My favourite show at the minute is Bob’s Burgers, though if anyone asks me I’ll swear down it’s True Detective or Breaking Bad (both of which are excellent shows, just- you know- they require a level of brain power I can’t always be bothered to give). Likewise although my favourite movie is actually Heathers, if asked I will always claim that it is Fight Club.
I was looking through my clothes for something to wear when I found this diary. You see, Sarton requires us to move out every term since they rent the rooms out to businessmen on conferences during the holidays and so sometimes, I just neglect to unpack. I rummage through my suitcases to find things and often things just get jumbled together. Like this diary which I found lodged in between my skintight black dress from Topshop and my little red dress from ASOS which reminds me of the one the woman is wearing halfway through the video to Prince’s Get Off.
I have decided on a super cute dress I have which is a kind of rich, navy blue with long, sheer sleeves the same colour. What makes it cute is the belt around the waist made of little daisies and the daisy pattern on the edge of the cuffs.
I guess I should probably get ready, considering Payal has made dinner reservations at Las Iguanas for 9 and it’s currently 8:15. She has a lot of Muslim friends so wanted to do it somewhere Halal so they wouldn’t all be forced to eat salad, but I told her if she made me eat at Pizza Express for her 21st I’d punch her in the boob. She suggested Las Iguanas instead and I agreed.
Got to get ready now. More later.
Thursday 12th October- 02:41AM
Diary, I’m not an angry person. I’m not a mean person. And although I’ll admit I can behave a little childishly sometimes, I am definitely not the type of person who would normally throw a burrito at somebody’s head.
But today, I did.
Dinner with Perfect Payal and the Boring Boyfriend was even worse that I thought it would be. And I was already pretty convinced it was going to be an absolute nightmare.
Allow me, diary, to introduce you to the main antagonist of the evening: Annoying Arnav!
When I walked into the restaurant (I was only 20 minutes late, in Asian Timing that’s practically early), all the others were already there and there was just the one seat left, at the very end of the table. Oh fantastic, I wouldn’t be able to talk to anybody other than the person opposite and beside me. If they were both as boring as I predicted most of Payal’s friends would be, then that was going to be delightful.
Things looked up when I saw the face of the guy I’d be sitting next to that evening, a solid 9/10. Maybe even a 9.5. So I sat down beside him and held out my hand, “Hi, I’m Khushi. What’s your name?”
He looked me up and down and sneered. “Arnav.” He didn’t take my hand and sneered again when I awkwardly withdrew it.
“Err, so, err, what subject do you do?”
“Wow. If this is the quality of conversation I have to look forward to tonight then I’m going to have to ask to switch seats with somebody.”
I wanted to punch him. Literally punch him in his stupid, smug little face. So he wants interesting conversation does he? Fine. I’ll give him interesting conversation.
“Sorry, what did you say your name was? Anna? Oh. You’re transgender? How brave. Especially as an Indian. Society might frown on your choices, but good for you. Doing what you want. So what… are you pre-op or post-op?” I took a long and meaningful look down at his lap before looking back up at his eyes. And to my horror, he was grinning.
“Why don’t you come with me to the toilets and see for yourself?”
“Arnav!” I saw the girl sitting across from me trying not to laugh as she admonished him. “I’m so sorry about him, it’s not you, he’s like this with everybody.”
“Anjali would you mind not apologising for me to everyone? If I’m sorry, I’ll say sorry.” Anjali just rolled her eyes.
“Why are you here, Arnav? Do you even know Payal?”
“No. But I am related to her boyfriend and he offered to pay for my meal. I have been living off of Fusilli pasta and Lloyd Grossman pasta sauce for the past two weeks and I want some actual food. It’s not my fault if Daisy Chain here is boring me and the waitress is taking an hour to arrive.”
“This is why nobody likes you.”
“Your mum does.”
“She’s your mum too!”
“Exactly.”
“Can I take your orders?”
I beamed gratefully at the waitress and opened my mouth to order when Mr Arsehole interrupted with his. He was extremely gracious to the waitress, smiling when she giggled. What was she even giggling at? Was the word ‘burrito’ really that funny? Was it? Was it? Especially when working at a place like Las Iguanas.
It annoyed me that he had ordered the same dish as me and I tried to mutter it so that he wouldn’t hear me, but he did. “Oh. Not only are you boring but you can’t even be original when you order your food.”
“Can you make mine extra, extra hot please?”
“I feel like you’re trying to make a point here, Daisy Chain. But I’m not getting it.”
“Oh. No point. I just like it hot.” I tried to smile sweetly at him but I think I may have just given him a pained looking grimace.
“I bet you do.” He winked and once again, I resisted the urge to smack him across his stupid, annoyingly attractive face.
Needless to say, he continued to antagonise me, and piss me off and ignore the warnings and what I’m pretty sure were several kicks from his sister (not least because one of them missed and ended up quite brutally catching my shin instead) until, just as I was about to bite into my burrito, he said something so snarky (“Are you really eating that with your hands? That’s actually disgusting. You’re going to get it all over y-“) that I just lost it and threw it at his head.
Yes.
I threw.
A large, extra spicy, chicken and bean burrito…
At his face.
The entire thing broke apart and splattered both of us and the table and he jumped backwards off his chair, knocking into the person sitting at the table behind him and getting bits of burrito all over that poor lady too. He started howling as some of the copious numbers of jalapeno got into his eye and started burning. I felt Payal grab my shoulder and mutter angrily in my ear. “Outside. Now.” While her Boring Boyfriend rushed Arnav to the toilets to try and get himself cleaned up.
Once we were outside, Payal tapped me on the shoulder and looked really upset. “Khushi… why did you do that?”
“Payal you don’t understand, he was being so rude and horrible and mean and-”
“I don’t care, Khushi. You overreacted and what you did was completely unacceptable.”
“But he-”
“You threw a burrito at his head.”
Well… when you put it like that. I looked down at my feet and almost sobbed when I saw my dress completely ruined by burrito sauces and ingredients.
“I think you should go, Khushi. I’ll call you later.”
So I did.
I came back to my room, showered and tried to salvage my dress. That failed so I sadly threw it away because like, allow being one of those gross people who donates ruined clothes to the charity shop. Then I tried to sleep but couldn’t because I was so angry at Arnav and upset with Payal for not trying to understand my side more but mostly just mad at myself for losing control.
I’ve got my mum’s temper. Everyone says it.
I gave up on sleep and have just been watching Parks & Recreation for the past few hours until I decided I’d try writing it all out.
I’ve got to say, this has been pretty cathartic.
I might just keep this up.
arisai 