He misses interaction with colleagues. It hinders efficiency, slows work. He is physically drained from travel. He is frustrated that he cannot put down roots in America, and maybe start his own company, because he cannot leave Google, his visa sponsor.

He says he feels, on one hand, great gratitude that America gave him extraordinary opportunity. But he says he fulfilled his side of the bargain by striving and succeeding. “Dude, I love this country,” he said.

But he doesn’t feel loved back: “My devotion is unrequited.”

To Stay or to Go

On each of Mr. Mavinkurve’s twice-monthly visits to the United States (he keeps a room not far from Google), he meets with two friends at the Red Mango frozen yogurt shop on University Avenue in the heart of Palo Alto. Over scoops of green tea yogurt, they brainstorm for their next venture.

But he is not sure he can start a company  at least in America. Unless he gets his green card and his wife can work, he would be the only breadwinner, risking his savings, and he says they would be unhappy.

“Quitting Google means saying goodbye to my green card,” he said.

If America will not have him, he might have to stay in Canada. The proof is on the wall of the two-bedroom high-rise apartment he shares with his wife  who is pregnant  and his parents, who have moved in with them. On the living room wall is a Canadian flag.

“Quality stitching,” he said, fingering it.

Mr. Mavinkurve, who once hung American flags in his dorm room and then in Google’s hallway, still loves America. But the Internet-era immigrant, who moves so quickly between worlds, cannot decide where to land.

Where is Sanjay? Even he is not sure where he belongs.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” he said of the possibility of moving back to the United States. “I’m not sure I can.”