Roots, bloody roots

It's been said that your roots define you.When your life passes by day by day,your roots are all that stay with you.

What are roots?Are your roots your family history? Your blood relations perhaps?Are they the friends you hang out with? Are your roots defined by the songs you listen to?Your hobbies and interests? Quite frankly, I have absolutely no idea.

A simple google search for 'tracing your roots' reveals over 13 million links. 13 frigging million!!! (for all you non existent delinquents reading this , that's 6 whole zeros). So basically, there could be 13 million people out there each with his/her own views.So in the end,who's right?

At the end of it all, who am I? Are my roots my family? I hope not, because until now I've had no interest whatsoever in meeting most of my relatives. Even remembering their names becomes a herculean task occasionally.

Are my roots my motherland? I may be called a Tamilian because of my parents. Then again, I've never had the desire to learn the language? Does my country qualify as a root? Does nationality really make a difference? Does patriotism define my character and make me the man I'm supposed to be?

Are roots even important? Yes, I'm sure that they can give you stability when you really need it.But don't these same roots prevent you from leaving the ground and soaring towards the 'heavens'. After a point,don't roots just hinder your progress?

So I'm finally back to the same question: Who am I? I've been around 19 years ( No more a kid Sahil!!) and frankly, I'd like to know where my roots lie. Does it matter at all? Does my outlook towards life change when I figure out where my roots lie? More importantly, is it immoral or inhumane of me to even question my own identity? Or in the end, am I just a teenager who ponders about such stuff at 4am just hours before an exam?