The Triker!


Manjiree took me shopping yesterday and on the way, I pointed out to her the kind of two wheelers converted to be used by the physically handicapped and said that I would be satisfied to use one of these, if she and Ranjan felt that I would be a menace on the kind of vehicle that I posted yesterday.

She hemmed and hawed and wanted to know why I was determined to do such a thing not quite befitting someone of my vintage.

My answer?

motorcycle and chicks

Missing Out.

“Our utopias tell us more about our lived lives, and their privations, than about our wished-for lives.”

~Adam Phillips.


A fascinating book.

“There is a gap between what we want and what we can have, and that gap … is our link, our connection, to the world… This discord, this supposed mismatch, is the origin of our experience of missing out.”

“The unexamined life is surely worth living, but is the unlived life worth examining? It seems a strange question until one realizes how much of our so-called mental life is about the lives we are not living, the lives we are missing out on, the lives we could be leading but for some reason are not. What we fantasize about, what we long for, are the experiences, the things and the people that are absent. It is the absence of what we need that makes us think, that makes us cross and sad. We have to be aware of what is missing in our lives – even if this often obscures both what we already have and what is actually available – because we can survive only if our appetites more or less work for us. Indeed, we have to survive our appetites by making people cooperate with our wanting. We pressurize the world to be there for our benefit. And yet we quickly notice as children – it is, perhaps, the first thing we do notice – that our needs, like our wishes, are always potentially unmet. Because we are always shadowed by the possibility of not getting what we want, we learn, at best, to ironize our wishes – that is, to call our wants wishes: a wish is only a wish until, as we say, it comes true – and, at worst, to hate our needs. But we also learn to live somewhere between the lives we have and the lives we would like.


We refer to them as our unlived lives because somewhere we believe that they were open to us; but for some reason – and we might spend a great deal of our lived lives trying to find and give the reason – they were not possible. And what was not possible all too easily becomes the story of our lives. Indeed, our lived lives might become a protracted mourning for, or an endless tantrum about, the lives we were unable to live. But the exemptions we suffer, whether forced or chosen, make us who we are.”

My past has no unlived life that I can readily identify, despite trying very hard.  Yes, I have had my share of failures and frustrations, but by and large it has been a well lived and satisfactory life.  My unlived life  is in the present, right now in not being able to do this. And, I don’t have to spend a great deal of living life trying to find and give the reason for it.


My children think that I am daft for wanting to ride around like that despite my assurance of wearing a helmet. They insist that I give up such dreams and simply stick to cars and autorickshaws. And that is the story of my life and I am sticking with that till the kids change their minds and allow me my little indulgence.  What the heck, can’t I be a biker of this type if not the type that Shackman had!

This HAS become my story.  I could cry.


When Is Honesty Not The Best Policy?


“The Indian epic Mahabharata, teaches us that there is more to life than meets the eye. Yes, rules were broken in the Mahabharata war. An elephant, not a man, called Ashwatthama was killed. But why should we uphold rules when they prop up a society where actions are based on power not love, where the motivation is anger not affection?” concludes Devdutt Patnaik on the famous story of the killing of Dronacharya.

And another writer that I have great respect for Gurcharan Das,  in his wonderful book The Difficulty Of Being Good addresses exactly the issues that Shackman has raised. And I agree with the reviewer when he concludes “I loved The Difficulty of being Good, but I will not recommend it to everyone. You should only buy this book, if you like the Mahabharata, and are also interested in questions of morality, and sometimes ponder about the questions of right and wrong. Without such interest, I think you will find the book difficult to read and not interesting at all.”

Another book that I am currently plodding through is more relevant to our present day conditions and environment. “The Truth About Trust; How It Determines Success In Life, Love, Learning and More”, by David DeSteno which I was persuaded to buy when I read this review in the HBR.

No, after all that information overload, I have not become an expert on the topic of honesty, truth and trust. If anything I have become more secure in my own answer to the question originally raised by Shackman – Honesty is not the best policy when the action taken can cause physical or mental harm to one’s self or others.


This topic was suggested by Shackman for the weekly Friday Loose Bloggers Consortium where currently nine of us write on the same topic every Friday. I hope that you enjoyed my contribution to that effort.  The seven other bloggers who write regularly are, in alphabetical order,  AshokgaelikaaLin, Maxi, Padmum, Pravin,  Shackman and The Old Fossil. Do drop in on their blogs and see what their take is on this week’s topic. Since some of them may post late, or not at all this week, do give some allowance for that too!


This handsome young man is my grand nephew Vedesh.
Vedesh 2

He posted this poster on his facebook wall:

small talk

I left a comment: – “I prefer silence. From the audience that is. Who would not like a captive audience to listen without responding?”

I then discovered this scene in Matheran.

I have been there and done that there. I have been at the speaker’s end as well as the captive audience. Highly elevating experience I can assure you, but what one really likes to do there is  to be in perfect silence.  And in that silence, the mountains and valleys speak to us.