I read Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in the 1990s, and when Lila: An Inquiry into Morals was published in 1991, I bought that too. However, I failed to capture its content at that time. It remained on my bookshelf unread. The news of his death in April 2017 made me pick up this book from the shelf and read it. And once I started reading it, I could not put it down.

This book draws many parallels with Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Here, instead of a motorcycle, Pirsig sails on his yacht. Instead of going westwards from Minnesota to California, he sails along the Hudson in New York State from Troy to Sandy Hook, east of New Jersey. Instead of his son being a pillion rider, he picks up an unknown woman from a nearby boat, purely as a situation. This woman is Lila, single and struggling with insanity. But here the similarity ends. While Zen explored the idea of values, morals are examined here.

In the book, Pirsig attempts to build the concept of Dynamic Quality as an irresistible and indomitable cosmic force that drives humanity to create, improve, and evolve. This force naturally confronts the status quo – personal, social, economic and political – and motivates people to react. Some take up the challenge, but the majority decline. The majority lead comfortable lives within their families and workplaces. The few people triggered by this cosmic impulse for change emerge out of their comfort zones. They struggle. Some succeed, but most fail and live in despair.  Some even end up in insanity. In India, we refer to this invisible force as Brahman, and Practices like Yoga and Meditation help one remain stable in the turbulent winds of adversity. Indian society has its ways of coping with broken hearts through religion and other spiritual practices.

Pirsig expands the idea of the immortal Self dwelling within the mortal body (Atman) into his concept of multiple selves – biological, social and intellectual. When the balance and harmony between these is broken, an individual suffers from various physical ailments as well as mental disorders such as psychosis and neurosis, at times even ending up insane.

“The world comes to us in an endless stream of puzzle pieces that we would like to think all fit together somehow, but that in fact never do.” (Chapter 8, p. 102)

This book builds upon the concepts of Gestalt Therapy, as developed by Fritz Perls, and Self and Others, by R.D. Laing. I developed goosebumps imagining how these different books could have reached me. I found these books at various points in time, and though some, like Lila, had been with me for many years, I read them only when I was ready to absorb them.

I can now appreciate the necessity of incorporating a few minutes of meditation, or Dhyana, into one’s daily routine. Not only does it keep insanity away, but it also takes you forward on the path of evolution. Just as a forest is made up of many adjacent trees, so is human society. Just as trees are interconnected through birds and microorganisms, so also, people are interconnected through everyday transactions – with maids, drivers, vendors, co-workers, one’s supervisors, students, subordinates, and so on. A Lila is living inside all of us – frightened, bewildered and confused. Learn to take care of her fears and anxieties, and calming them down is the only way to remain sane in this insane world.

I suffered a cardiac arrest on January 6, 2004, but luckily, as I was in a hospital setting and with Cardiologist Dr. B Soma Raju, I was resuscitated in time. A month later, on February 6, I was operated upon by heart surgeon Dr. M. Gopi Chand. On the eve of the surgery, Mr. Madhu Reddy, the Managing Director of the Universities Press publishing company, which had published Wings of Fire, visited me and gifted me the book The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh. I completed reading it while recovering after the surgery, even before I was discharged from the hospital. 

The Glass Palace follows the intertwined stories of Rajkumar, an Indian orphan, and the Burmese royal family, spanning several generations and locations, during the British invasion of Burma. The novel explores the themes of exile, displacement and the impact of colonialism on various societies, highlighting the struggles faced by individuals caught in the crossfire of political and social chaos. The book’s message is that the legacy of colonialism continues to shape societies and individuals, leaving lasting scars of displacement and social change.

Ghosh expertly weaves the personal tales of the people with meticulously documented historical events. The vivid landscapes and many cultural tapestries of Burma, India, and Malaysia come to life in his writing, which catches the spirit of each time and place. A profound sense of the interdependence of human lives across geography and time remains with readers as the novel comes to a close. The Glass Palace is proof that stories may transport audiences to another time and place while simultaneously shedding light on our history.

This novel left a big impression on me. After recovering, I met the Ambassador of Myanmar in New Delhi. I then visited Myanmar with Cardiologist Prof. P Krishnam Raju on a mission to develop an exchange programme introducing interventional cardiology there. During my stay there, I visited the Palace in Mandalay. Standing in the courtyard of Kuthodaw Pagoda on a nearby hill, I saw from a distance the jail where Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak was confined for six years, during which he used his time in exile to write the Gita Rahasya. I would later write a modern interpretation of this book.

After this trip, I also accompanied President Kalam on a State visit to Myanmar. In the following years, more than 100 doctors and nurses were trained at the Care Hospital, Hyderabad, as part of the exchange programme we have developed, which became a notable accomplishment. When I reflect on such things, I wonder whether things are already predetermined and whether what we think we are doing is happening through us. What if Mr. Madhu Reddy had given me some other book? What if I had not read the book? What if Prof. Krishnam Raju had not been able to spare time to travel to Myanmar?

This book remains very special to me, and I often read its passages to unwind.

“But if it were true that his life had somehow been moulded by acts of power of which he was unaware, then it would follow that he had never acted of his own volition; never had a moment of true self-consciousness. Everything he had ever assumed about himself was a lie, an illusion. And if this were so, how would he find himself now?” (Chapter 36, p. 461)

I consider Mr. Amitav Ghosh the best historical fiction writer of our time. He is our own V. S. Naipaul and Joseph Conrad in this genre of literature.

France was the first foreign country I visited in 1985. It was also the first time I boarded an aircraft. Everything looked like a dream during the daytime. Later, when I visited the United States and other European countries, I realised how the French people are different from other Westerners. Small talk doesn’t work in France. They won’t pick up the phone to talk to a stranger without a thoughtful approach. They are reluctant to answer questions like, “How are you doing?” and even get offended.

So, when I picked up this voluminous novel (exceeding 650,000 words) during the COVID-19 pandemic, I approached it with a sense of respect. However, after reading it, I can say without a doubt that if there is one timeless masterpiece of a novel I have read, it is Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. This sweeping tale, set in post-revolutionary France, centres around the life of Jean Valjean. Valjean, a former convict, seeks redemption. He ended up in jail for trying to grab a loaf of bread to pacify his starving nephew and spent nineteen years rotting there.  Despite his attempts to lead an honest life, he is relentlessly pursued by Inspector Javert, whose rigid sense of justice leaves no room for compassion.

Valjean’s journey intersects with many strangers, revealing different facets of human nature and the products of an imperfect society. Fantine, a destitute mother forced into prostitution, leaves her daughter, Cosette, in Valjean’s care. Cosette’s love story with the passionate revolutionary Marius adds a romantic dimension to the narrative. The novel reaches its climax during the June Rebellion of 1832, where the characters’ fates become inextricably entwined amidst the chaos of the Parisian streets. Packed with action, suspense and gripping passages, it’s a book you can’t put down.

‘Les Misérables’ is a profound exploration of justice, mercy and the human spirit. Hugo delves into the injustices of the legal and social systems, portraying the struggles of the underprivileged and the marginalised—the novel advocates for compassion and forgiveness, suggesting that true justice must be tempered with mercy. “Teach the ignorant as much as you can; society is culpable in not providing a free education for all and must answer for the night it produces. If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who sins, but the one who causes the darkness.”

Through Valjean’s transformation, Hugo illustrates the possibility of redemption and the power of love and kindness to overcome past wrongs. The novel also highlights the impact of systemic poverty and the necessity of social change, urging readers to empathise with the plight of the oppressed.

“Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. No fate proposes more inexorably than love in this dilemma, destruction or salvation. Love is life, if not death—cradle, coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most nights.” (Vol. IV, book 8, p 863)

While reading the novel, I couldn’t stop crying for quite some time when Valjean dies in the end. “If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who sins, but the one who causes the darkness.” Ultimately, Les Misérables is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring quest for freedom and equality. Hugo’s masterful storytelling and rich character development create a timeless epic that resonates with readers worldwide.

I visited Italy as part of a family trip through Western Europe, which included cities in Germany, Belgium, France, Switzerland, and Austria. In Italy, we visited Milan, Rome and Venice. Italy stands out for its architecture, but also its people with a distinct attitude. The most intriguing city was Venice, a grand city built on the water, with no roads—only boats navigating waterways.

Later, I learned that Italy was not always a unified country. The survivors of the Trojan War arrived at Florence, and there were constant fights between them and the locals. Even the Roman Empire did not last for 500 years. As for Venice, a city built on 118 islands, it was founded in the 5^th century AD by refugees fleeing the Roman Empire and Germanic invasions. Over time, it developed into a significant maritime and trading power, becoming a key player in European and Mediterranean commerce. Of the countries I visited, Italy remained with me as a land of brilliance and arrogance.

The Divine Comedy, written by Dante Alighieri, a 13th-century Florentine, is an epic poem comprising 14,233 lines. It is divided into three equal parts: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). The poem narrates Dante’s journey through the three realms of the dead, lasting from the night before Good Friday to the Wednesday after Easter in the spring of 1300. It begins saying:

Midway along the journey of our life
I woke to find myself in a dark wood,
For I had strayed from the straight path. (Inferno, Canto I, lines 1-3)

The Roman poet Virgil guides him through Hell and Purgatory; Beatrice, Dante’s ideal woman, guides him through Heaven.

When you read Dante, you feel like you are watching a film. He creates scenes using metaphors and explains complex insights through dialogues between the characters. It is a wholesome teaching on Christian theology, with Hell, Purgatory and Heaven as allegorical representations of sin, penance and divine grace, respectively.

There are multiple circular steps, like stepped rings, for rising through repentance or falling into sin. The punishments in each circle are not arbitrary; they are designed to reflect the nature of the sin. For example, those who indulged in lust are tormented by a storm, as their passions were uncontrolled. Similarly, those who committed violence against others are punished with violence. Dante also depicts Pope Boniface VIII and Pope Nicholas III in Hell.

I am in love with this book for its craftsmanship. How can anyone create an entire imaginary realm and then put it into words so that the reader also reaches there? The scene I loved most is when Dante finds a crowd outside the first circle of Hell. These people are not allowed inside as they were neither good nor bad, but lacked the faith to be saved. Called Limbo, this is not a place of punishment; it’s also not a place of eternal joy. It’s a state of perpetual longing for what they cannot have. He meets Socrates, Aristotle and Julius Caesar here.

My favourite lines are:

“The only answer that I give to you is doing it,” he said.
“A just request is to be met in silence, by the act.” (Inferno, canto XXIV, lines 77-78)

Taking practical actions makes your life relevant. Mere words are not enough when responding to a just request. When a request is undeniably fair, the most effective way to respond is to take the necessary steps to meet the request. Not doing this will take you to hell, make no mistake about it.

Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2001, Sir Vidiadhar Surajprasad ‘VS’ Naipaul visited President APJ Kalam with his wife in 2003. He was born into a lineage of landless brahmins from eastern Uttar Pradesh, who were taken to Trinidad by the British as indentured labour to grow sugarcane there. I was not there when he met Dr. Kalam, but I had the chance to meet him two years later.

In 2005, Guiding Souls: Dialogues on the Purpose of Life, co-authored by Dr. Kalam and me, was published. Sir Naipaul was in Delhi for a short visit, staying at the Taj Mansingh Hotel. My publisher, Piyush Kumar, took me to meet him. I was stunned by his persona—tall, handsome and erudite. His voice was heavy, as if coming from a depth. It was the first time I had met a Nobel laureate, and I was overwhelmed.

He wrote a message for the book: “This book demonstrates a wise and much-loved President, two attributes which do not always go together.” He said that what is good for you is usually not what you like. This is the biggest problem with people— they dislike being told about their faults. Sir Naipaul affectionately held my hand and said, “Keep writing, young man. Like music, writing comes with practice.” I took his advice to heart.

When asked which book he felt was closest to his heart, Si Naipaul said, “I write all books from the heart.” However, he added that he considered his first book, The Milguel Street, as his best writing. I bought it on my way back to Hyderabad from the airport and finished reading this 190-page book before landing in Hyderabad. It was the best English prose I have ever read—flowing like a breeze. An excerpt from the book reads:

“A stranger could drive through Miguel Street and just say ‘Sum!’ because he could see no more. But we who lived there saw our street as a world, where everybody was quite different from everybody else. Man-man was mad; George was stupid; Big Foot was a bully; Hat was an adventurer; Popo was a philosopher; and Morgan was our comedian.” (Chapter 8, p. 59)

A collection of interconnected stories set in a poor, working-class neighbourhood in Port of Spain, Trinidad, Miguel Street is narrated from the perspective of a teenage onlooker. Each chapter focuses on a particular character, but with characters from previous chapters reappearing as minor characters in subsequent ones. These are the people the child grows up watching. They are all stuck in their small, limited lives. However, the narrator has a real opportunity to alter his life, and he does so by leaving the community and pursuing higher education.

Twenty years have passed, but I have not forgotten the characters: Bogart, Popo, B. Wordsworth, Big Foot, Man-man and Hat. They appear when I discuss life with others. If I had to gift one book to a teenager without hesitation, this would be the book. 

The themes of ambition, failure and adaptation, explored in classic books, are universal and relevant. I read this book to relax and enjoy my time alone. I have it by heart, remember who said what, and revisit it depending on my mood. Writing simple, flowing prose about ordinary people and their little problems is difficult—something only Sir Naipaul could do. He is peerless. 

The German Chancellor, Gerhard Schröeder, visited New Delhi from October 6 to 7, 2004. He gifted President Kalam an English translation of Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, translated by Bayard Taylor. Goethe is regarded as one of the greatest writers in the German language.

Like many other books, Dr. Kalam passed on this deluxe edition to me. While browsing through it, I could not relate to it. The book remained on my shelf, unread. It was during the COVID-19 lockdown that I read it, only to realise how stupid I had been not to do so previously.

The story is about Faust, who, unsatisfied with his life as a scholar, attempts suicide. Mephistopheles, the Devil’s representative, intervenes and makes a bargain with Faust. He will serve Faust using his magic powers for a fixed number of years, but at the end of the term, the Devil will claim Faust’s soul, and Faust will be eternally enslaved. Faust makes use of Mephistopheles in various ways, including seducing an innocent young woman whose life is ultimately destroyed when she gives birth to Faust’s illegitimate son. She drowns the child and is sentenced to death for murder. God ultimately saves Faust because of his constant striving and pleading with God for redemption, through the intercession of the wronged woman. 

Faust is indeed a universal story. Each one of us, like Faust, makes a bargain to succeed. These defence mechanisms are rooted in childhood as sacrificed elements of the self in favour of psychological survival. For the neurotic, abandoning one’s genuine feelings in favour of a false self may be more amenable to caretakers. It may offer a viable life form at the expense of one’s genuine emotions and affects. For the psychotic, a Faustian bargain with an omnipotent self can offer the imaginary refuge of a psychic retreat at the price of living in unreality.

A brilliant poem with dazzling imagery, each stanza of Faust is a gem. My favourite verse is:

“What I possess seems far away from me, / And what is gone becomes reality.”  (Lines 31–32)

Not only is Mephistopheles everywhere in the world, but he is also ruthless and unrepentant.

“You’ll get no word of suns and worlds from me. / How men torment themselves is all I see.” (Lines 279–280)

“Grey, dear friend, is all theory, / And green the golden tree of life.” (Lines 2038-2039)

Eventually, the Devil is defeated, and the book concludes on a positive note.

“Let the sun be lost from heaven, / So it’s daylight in the soul, / We’ll discover in the heart, then, / What the Earth fails to hold.” (Lines 9691-9694)

Gaze towards that saving gaze, / All you, the penitent and tender, /To all those blissful ways, / Give thanks, and follow after. (Lines 12096-12099)

The central takeaway is the tragic quest for fulfilment and understanding, highlighting that endless ambition and a desire to transcend human limitations can lead to both extraordinary achievements and moral downfall. The work emphasises the importance of humility, ethical integrity, and acknowledging human limitations, while also celebrating the potential for redemption and the pursuit of higher ideals.