Anil's goodbye letter to New York City reminds me of how much I love my adopted home, San Francisco, and how I feel an obligation to it, the same way he does. It's probably a difficult concept to understand if you are nomadic by nature and never like to stay in one place for too long, or else just see home as bed where you sleep at night and the rest is just work, commuting and the nearest supermarket.
I wonder if there's a name for this, a name for being so in love with where you live that you feel almost married to it. Doesn't mean you're happy there all the time. Like any relationship, sometimes you're estatic with love and others you're barely speaking. But you feel bound to each other in some way that is larger than you both, in some way that says, for better or worse, that this is where you belong.
I don't think you need to live in a huge, expensive metropolis to feel this way about where you live. But you do need to be aware, to appreciate that cities and towns and suburbs and hamlet's are living things, have their own personalities that hopefully meld with yours. And that cities aren't simply the neighborhood where you don't feel to tred but rather the amalgam of all the experiences and lives that dwell there, and despite that swirl of activity, still make you breathe easy and say I'm home.