script; today, tomorrow it might change. Again.

i tried to reach Dirk but he did not reply to my question.

Instead I discussed the issue with some other random people. And did my Google research.

I came to the conclusion that in order to even start thinking about roots and belonging one has to migrate. Leave the safe bosom of family.



I am not sure.

Was my effort to connect just another meaningless conservative construction?

(But still; why did I feel the need to connect to this lake in the first place?)
Did I believe I was born from the dark water of the lake or what?

Was it important at all?




Rushdie on Roots, Rootlessness, Migration, on Being Between


"I, too, know something of this immigrant business. I am an emigrant from one country (India) and a newcomer in two (England, where I live, and Pakistan, to which my family moved against my will). And I have a theory that the resentments we mohajirs engender have something to do with our conquest of the force of gravity. We have performed the act of which all men anciently dream, the thing for which they envy the birds; that is to say, we have flown.
"I am comparing gravity with belonging. Both phenomena observably exist: my feet stay on the ground, and I have never been angrier than on the day my father told me he had sold my childhood home in Bombay. But neither is understood. We know the force of gravity, but not its origins; and to explain why we become attached to our birthplaces we pretend that we are trees and speak of roots. Look under your feet. You will not find gnarled growths spouting through the soles. Roots, I sometimes think, are a conservative myth, designed to keep us in our places.
"When individuals come unstuck from their native land, they are called migrants. When nations do the same (Bangladesh), the act is called secession. What is the best thing about migrant peoples are seceded nations? I think it is their hopefulness. . . . And what's the worst thing? It is the emptiness of one's luggage. I'm speaking of invisible suitcases, not the physical, perhaps cardboard, variety containing a few meaning-drained mementoes: we have come unstuck from more than land. We have floated upwards from history from memory, from Time."