One of the freedoms of being Indian today is the freedom to leave India, make a home elsewhere. Leaving a country, however, does not necessarily mean leaving behind the part of you that belongs to it. So, on a sultry New York afternoon, the question “Where are you from?” came as a surprise. We had been talking for 10 minutes. He was wearing a Brazilian soccer shirt, half-wet from the sweat pouring down his bald head. I hesitated to answer. Shouldn’t he have figured out by now, from my accent, that I was Indian? But was I really from India? Would it not be Sweden, the place I had called home for the last 20 years? I gave my roundabout answer: I was born in India, but Sweden is home now. For the last year, though, I have been here in the U.S. America doesn’t feel like home, merely a transit point before I head back to Sweden. I left the last part out. It reeked of homesickness. A disorder I have suffered from ever …