Tilling the roots of words placed within the pages and delicately letting myself savour the sense of feeling belonged, it’s been around 2 months or so of me consciously sensing and noticing belonging while reading.

And, may I invite you to picture yourself tilling the soil, watering it, putting some seeds in it, and plucking out the weeds from it. Do you sense how life stretches ahead of you?

Reading Belonging By Umi Sinha felt like tilling my thoughts, weaving a space for more seeds, more water, more fresh air.

Reading about home with a certain whiff, I sensed how much more Belonging had to offer through the protagonist Lila. Through her father, Henry and her mother, Cecily. Through Aunt Mina and a variety of other characters whose names I’m yet to hold firmly in my mind.

Belonging made me think of British Rule in a different light, a darker shade of it. Between rulers and ruled, a world of stories flows and this is the flow Belonging offers to you while you’re ruled by the thoughts of history. Reading personal histories of the characters felt like opening the box of learnt history to make room for more.

I’ve taken Belonging quite slow, I admit. Almost ignoring it because of the depth of the title making me go inward and search my closests for its traces and essence.

Belonging is  such a long journey.  And, with one book at a time, I’m seeking to live it in all the shades it’s woven of. Thread by thread. Knot by knot.
Reading belonging invites belonging in me. Scratching my heart, tugging at my sleeves, shutting the noise of the world, helping me place a light within. 