I've never felt the sense of belonging back home. Even when I was
just a kid I used to feel like a fledgling that could take off anytime one day
and never return. So, I regarded home and the people around with that amused sympathy
typical of roamers.
With some misguided sense of manners and etiquettes instilled from
early years by an anglophile mother, I hated the degree of crudeness in the
people around me. Sometimes I wondered whether the whole sense of not belonging
was a defense against the crudeness in people that I was forced to accept as a
part of the living experience here.
During my stay in Europe, I never felt a part of it either. I
constantly felt alien, despite the accommodating nature of Italians. Observing
the immigrants, who were people like the ones back home, reluctant to adopt the
European civility, I felt ill at ease due to the fact that I was one of them.
And I felt helpless that how much ever I consider myself separate and behave so,
I'll still be an immigrant, a broad species that covers a wide variety of personalities
amongst which I detested being classified.
It is than that I started wondering where I really belonged.
Perhaps, if they ever colonise some uninhabited planet, I could be settle there
happily among the first inhabitants and feel truly at home.
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