For some reason, people think it’s incredibly romantic when I tell them that my soul belongs to two countries.


It’s hard for people to understand that I don’t belong in terms of nationality, either. In terms of nationality, I am all Indian.

It’s incredibly difficult to straddle continents the way I do, for when I am in one country my soul longs for the other, and vice versa. In my ideal world I think I would like to divide my time between both countries, equally.

When I am away from one for too long, I feel loss and homesickness. But above all this I feel a sense of desolation and betrayal, and it is hard to put that into words.

There is no romance surrounding the splitting of one’s soul; there is no romance in having two homes.