The Triumph Decision...

 For the first time in years, I wasn’t just moving forward I was truly living.

Dear Readers,

The crisp morning air carried a hint of adventure as I sipped his coffee, staring out at the quiet street from my window. My mind had been buzzing for days now, filled with the thought of one thing: the Triumph Trident 660. A machine of beauty, precision, and power, it was more than just a bike it was a statement.

I had always been drawn to motorcycles, the freedom they symbolized, and the rush they provided. I learned riding on my dad’s Lambretta Scooter, I surely miss that scooter. My love affair with bikes began in 2002, just after graduating. My father had gifted me my first bike, a Hero Honda Splendor 100cc in black and orange. It was more than a gift; it was a rite of passage. That bike carried me through the early years of adulthood until an accident in 2007 nearly took my life. Funny enough, the bike emerged unscathed, but I bore the scars that I humorously attributed to my transformation into being "ugly." By the grace of God, I survived that near-fatal accident, which only deepened my appreciation for life.

Over the years, my garage became a carousel of motorcycles, each holding a chapter of my life. In 2004, I picked up a Bajaj Avenger 180cc in red, followed later that year by a Bajaj Pulsar 220cc in black after selling the Avenger. Then came the Yamaha R15 in white and red in 2012, a sleek and modern choice that turned heads wherever I went. In 2018, I switched gears with a Honda Dio in grey, an ungeared scooter that offered a different kind of convenience.

The Bajaj Avenger called me back, this time in a 220cc blue variant before I transitioned to a Royal Enfield 350cc in red. This particular bike, purchased on my father’s birthday, held sentimental value as a nod to my dad’s love for the Royal Enfield. By 2021, I experimented with an Aprilia 150SR ungeared scooter, and in 2022, I welcomed another Royal Enfield, the Classic 350 in red, into my collection. After selling it, I tried a TVS Ntorq before making a bold move a Harley Davidson Iron 883 in February 2024 for my birthday. The Harley, however, was short-lived, sold after a brief, exhilarating stint.

Now, I found myself without a bike, yet my dream of owning the Triumph Trident 660 burned brighter than ever.

One Saturday afternoon, I stood at the dealership, the Triumph Trident 660 gleaming under the showroom lights. I ran my hand over its contours, feeling the cool metal beneath my fingers. The salesperson’s voice faded into the background as I imagined myself on the open road, the wind rushing past, the world blurring into a canvas of colors.

I could almost hear the growl of the engine, and feel the vibrations under me as I accelerated. It was a feeling of liberation I hadn’t felt in years. I smiled, remembering how my son had once told me, “Dad, you’re the coolest when you’re on a bike.”

But then came the doubts again. “What will people think? What if this is selfish?”

As if reading my mind, the salesperson said, “You know, bikes like these aren’t just for getting from point A to B. They’re for the journey in between. For reminding yourself who you are.”

I chuckled. “That’s quite a pitch.”

“Not a pitch,” the salesperson said with a shrug. “Just the truth.”

That night, I sat in my living room with the dealership’s brochure spread out before me. Midnight curled up on one side of me, Snowy on the other, their steady purring filling the silence. I thought of the rides I used to take, the sunsets I chased, and the freedom I missed.

“It’s not just a bike,” I said softly to myself. “It’s a piece of me I’ve been missing.”

The next morning, with the first rays of sunlight breaking through, I walked into the dealership and said, “Let’s do it.”

But when I reached there something did let me know what I really missed a lot.

In the end, I didn't buy the Triumph but will one day…

In this life or the Next…

For the first time in years, I wasn’t just moving forward I was truly living.

Reflection

Sometimes, life pulls us so deeply into its routines that we forget what it means to truly live. My story is a reminder that indulging in passions isn’t selfish; it’s necessary. The Triumph Trident 660 wasn’t just a bike for me it was a bridge to my past, a symbol of freedom, and a step towards embracing joy again.

In a world that often prioritizes practicality over happiness, we must remember to choose moments that make our hearts race and our souls soar. My decision wasn’t just about the road ahead; it was about reclaiming the road within.

Jacob M