India, Dec. 1 -- At times, I feel like an alien in my country.

Born and brought up in Mumbai, I was able to converse in Marathi, lived in a Marathi-speaking neighbourhood, and celebrated the festivals like everyone else around. But when the "Marathi manoos" movement raised its head, I learnt something unsettling from Dad, that we shall not be considered as "Marathi enough".

My father, an adventurous man with a passion for the road, had travelled across states in his youth on a Royal Enfield. In the early 1960s during one of those journeys down south, he bought a three-acre orchard near Udupi. So, when rumours in Mumbai escalated, he decided to leave the city for good. Leave our friends, our school, and the only home we had known.

Knowi...