Dear Britain, with love.
An immigrant woman’s journey of finding safety, identity and belonging in an unexpected home.
What does it mean to belong somewhere you weren’t born? How does it feel to have the context of your life – your memories and experiences – stretched across two countries separated by thousands of miles of sky? How does it feel to know you will be asked – again, and again, and again – where are you from? And the answer can never be – from here.
I’ve been trying to answer these questions since January 2017, when I landed in Britain as a tourist first, and then an immigrant. And how Britain, slowly, in its charming, rain-soaked way, became home.
These letters are my attempt to make sense of this incredible journey – and celebrate it.
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Dear Britain, I Grew Up With Animals
I grew up with animals. But it’s not like I was raised on a farm. And it’s not like my…
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Dear Britain, The Second Time, It Took 40 Hours – Part Two of Two
I am at a traffic light, absent-mindedly drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, when a hand pops into my…
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Dear Britain, The First Time Was A Shortcut – Part One of Two
24 years ago, my 18-year-old self strode purposefully into a government office building in South Delhi. In trying to match…
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