I grew up in a house where cars were more than just machines. They were part of the family. Like the dogs in the yard, they were always around, needing care, attention, sometimes causing trouble, but always bringing joy. Fixing cars with my father was probably the most consistent quality time we shared. We didn’t need to talk much. The work itself was the conversation. Learning, without even knowing I was learning. That’s how I learned what love looks like, not in words, but in effort.
Cars have always been my thing. I always believed in the magic of internal combustion engines, big, loud, gas-guzzling. The kind of car that makes you feel something the moment you turn the key. A proper engine makes you feel connected. You start the car, and it talks back to you. You feel every vibration, every hesitation, every surge. That connection is hard to explain, but once you’ve felt it, you never forget it.
I never liked EVs. I thought they were boring. Soulless. Quiet in the wrong way. No smell, no sound, no soul. But then on a recent company trip to Bhutan, something changed.
I was driven around in a BYD E6 EV through the mountain roads. Nothing fancy. Just a practical, nimble electric car. But while the big SUVs were losing traction, revving too hard, and slipping around, this EV just quietly and confidently moved. Smooth. No drama. It handled everything without needing to prove anything. That’s when it clicked.
EVs are like smartphones. They’re fast, clean, and efficient. Fewer moving parts. You don’t have to warm them up or worry about blowing a head gasket. You plug them in, they charge, and they're ready to go. Like using an iPhone, no instructions are needed; it just works.
Internal combustion cars, though, they’re like mechanical watches. A Rolex. An Omega. They don’t tell time any better than a phone, but they carry history. Craftsmanship. Personality. You care for them. You don’t throw them away when something goes wrong. You take them to someone who understands how they work.
That’s how I see it now. EVs are for daily life. Get from A to B, don’t worry about maintenance, no oil changes, no noise. Perfect for the everyday grind. But ICE cars, those are for the soul. You don’t drive them because you have to. You drive them because you want to feel alive.
So here’s where I’ve landed. I’ll probably get an EV for daily use. Something quiet, clean, and low maintenance. Something I don’t have to worry about when life is already too full. But I’ll always keep those old ICE cars. The kind you can open up and get lost in. The kind that makes you look back after you park.
Because as much as I understand the purpose of electric cars now, I still believe in the magic of combustion. And I still believe that machines can have a soul. Just ask Jezza.