Where do I belong?

Recently I came across this beautiful excerpt on belonging and identity that resonated very strongly with me. As an immigrant - although not yet at least in the permanent sense of the term - identity and belonging are things I think about very often. 

The one thing I have realized is that these concepts are super-fluid and hard to define. One must accept that they evolve constantly even if the basic foundation stays the same. Especially when one actively attempts to venture beyond the convenient comfort zones laid out by language, culture, faith, nationality, and any other unifying identity which we inherit, rather than develop with time. If we refuse to be siloed by our existing identities, a much wider world opens up. And we then realize that despite the differences and boundaries, there is a lot more common ground between us humans than we might appreciate.

Travel creates opportunities to experience such dissolving of boundaries; but moving around does it even better. Yet the process of uprooting one's life and moving is never easy, whether by choice or compulsion or even something in between. Especially when you move to the other side of the globe to start your life all over again. No matter how well you integrate and find your tribe (or not), how strongly you feel that you belong; a part of you is always void, always incomplete.

Immigrant traveller sculpture by Bruno Catalano, Venice (sourced from the internet)

Every place that I have lived in has influenced me, and the experiences have shaped who I am today, for better or for worse. So even though I usually still think of Kolkata - my birthplace - as home, the places I've lived in since (Bangalore, San Francisco Bay Area) feel like home no less, albeit in different, and sometimes stronger ways. As a scientist I'm trained to look at things objectively from the outside, trying to set aside emotion and bias as much as possible. I can identify exactly what is broken about a place or a system without being burdened by questions of faithfulness. Criticizing something also doesn't necessarily make it less dear, whether it's the past or the present. What it really means is that I care enough to think about it and be perturbed by the flaws that I perceive.

Everyday, I sense my identity getting fragmented between all of these places and experiences I have lived. As I try to keep up with understanding who I am turning into, it can be simultaneously exciting and scary. Yes, it's thrilling to have a sense of being a global citizen, unconstrained by just a handful of pre-existing labels. At the same time, it's equally terrifying to realize that ultimately I probably don't truly belong anywhere anymore.