I'm a Desi Girl in a Western World: The funny truths of growing up as a British Indian

Have you ever been in a scenario where you meet a stranger, and start having a pleasant conversation. They then ask you the ultimate question: "Where do come you from? Not where you are born; where do you originate?"

My nationality is Gujarati Indian, although I was born and raised in Britain. I have never been to Gujarat (a state in Western India); nonetheless, it is high up on my bucket list.

I did not grow up in the traditional Indian way. My mother grew up up in the UK and America; however, I attended a very multicultural school in my hometown, Leicester. I came from a single-parent household. We also didn't eat curry a lot of the time, and to this day, I am ashamed to say I can't even put on a saree. Nevertheless, we are in the twenty-first century, and I assure you I will learn one day.

Although my upbringing was somewhat liberal, there are still various aspects of my life in which all of us can associate to - whether you are Asian, Greek, Caribbean etc. If none of these things has happened to you, then enjoy learning about my life. I hope you are ready to giggle as I am going to reveal to you a few things which I experienced, growing up as a British Indian.

We are oven hoarders.

Indians store everything in their ovens. I didn't realise this was a big thing in Asian households until I saw an Instagram meme about this. We stock around ten frying pans, three chapatti pans, five baking trays, a pot of oil and even a guest blanket. Somehow, we make it all fit. When we need to use the oven, we remove every item and lay it out all across the kitchen; looking like a garage sale. After, all the things get strategically squeezed back inside, making sure nothing falls out- otherwise you will meet an unpleased mother.

Indians are HAIRY

Our genetics have enabled us to grow hair from any part of our body - including the nostrils and upper lip. Now we all recognise how hairy Indian boys are, but have you forgotten about us Indian girls; we can grow just as much hair. We (unwillingly) have to splash out thousands of pounds on different types of (painful) hair removal to remove the fur on our bodies, which returns fortnightly. If I continue to let my face and body hair grow, I would eventually end up looking like Cousin IT from the Adams Family. Who cares though, thick eyebrows are in - fingers crossed hairy legs are next.

Western fashion is too revealing for Indian parents.

Sorry guys, this is one for the girls. You have a cute outfit on and feeling 11/10, and maybe you took a selfie or a hundred as your self-esteem is up the roof. Just before you head out the door, your parents catch you, look at you in shame and say 'Where are you going dressed like that?'. They then continue to glare at you and tell you to 'Put some clothes on'.

On the other hand, when it is wedding season we practically spend hundreds of pounds to wear embellished crop tops, revealing our backs and stomaches to the world. Indian parents allow this as it is your cousin's wedding - the place they hope to find their future son-in-law. Good luck ladies.

The airport anxiety is real.

Indians are known to be late for everything. However, when it comes to catching a flight, they will make sure, with all their power, that you will be at the airport at least five hours in advance. They think the plane will fly off without them if they are not ridiculously early. For a 2 pm flight, my mum would make me wake up, even before I can hear the birds chirping. When we get to the airport, we are waiting for hours on end for our flight, when in reality we could have had an extra three hours being a warm cinnamon bun in bed.

Paracetamol is a cure for every problem.

Got a headache? Take Paracetamol. Do you have a broken heart? I am sure Paracetamol will fix it. For Indians, Paracetamol is the answer to all their prayers; they believe it will fix everything. We have packs and packs of the stuff laying around in our house - I even found one crumbled inside my the pocket of my jacket the other day. My family has enough for the whole of our city. Our motto should be: You don't need a doctor; Paracetamol is your doctor.

Ceremonies can last a million hours.

If you think Bollywood movies are long, then you have never been to an Indian function: such as a wedding or religious service. Growing up, we would go to ceremonies, such as Poojas, where a priest would do some rituals. To be brutally honest with you; I cannot tell you what these rituals mean or the background of them. All of us would sit there and try to listen to the Priest singing or chanting religious choruses - which I don't understand as I am not fluent in the Gujarati language. Therefore, I sit there, remarkably bored, and smile, pretending to have the faintest clue to what is going on.

On what seems like the fourth or fifth hour, I begin to get restless and continuously check the time, to see it has only been 10 minutes since the procession began - its like time has stood still. Once it is over, I am genuinely ecstatic to be able to breathe in the earth's fresh air again - until the next event.

Indians do not know how to say goodbye.

I am not exaggerating; we cannot say goodbye. It will take two or more hours for guests to leave our house after saying our goodbyes. We will say goodbye and give each other hugs numerously, between that time, and will have another round of chai (tea) before they walk out of the door. I am sure this is why Indians are known to be late for everything.

Gifts can turn into WWE wrestling matches.

Gift-giving in our culture always results in family fights. Can anyone relate to this prevalent scenario?

Relatives visit your home and present you and your sibling money. As an Indian, we cannot accept the gift and have to pretend we don't want it. Your mum steps in, developing Hulk-like powers, forces the money back to the aunty. The aunty violently gives the money, and your mum defends her corner, the two women are pulling each others hair, while the rest of us awkwardly stand there as bystanders. In the end, we get the money, and we have some more chai.

The moral of this story: Don't mess with Indian women; they are powerful.

All in all, although I love joking about Indian culture, I do enjoy being part of the Indian community - surrounded by family, and events, in which I get to dress up in beautiful (but massively overpriced) outfits.

I also loved growing up in Britain -the place where I have created my amazing friendships, acquired a fantastic education and had all my life experiences. Besides, I get to be able to celebrate my favourite festival, CHRISTMAS!

I am a firm believer that all your experiences, however wacky, shape you and my two cultures have been a huge part in defining who I am today. I am proud to be both British and Indian.