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There's an old friend of mine who has, of late, turned somewhat into an international man of mystery. And as is the case with international men of mystery with large feet, he has developed a new obsession, addiction really: buying expensive shoes from various countries.

Not too long back, he frantically messaged me from Washington: 'I am coming back with three pairs of shoes. The blue one was not available in my size.' He sounded as if he was Piyush Goyal giving an update to his boss about how trade negotiations with the US were going from the same city my friend was in.

From the pictures he had sent me - my friend, not the commerce minister - the pair he left DC to buy another day were like the others: expensive. A far cry from the shoe a 71-yr-old advocate by the name of Rakesh Kishore threw that was 'this close' in landing on CJI BR Gavai last Monday.

Reacting to a statement by Gavai in an earlier case that he had perceived to be an insult to Hinduism, Kishore was upset, like all RWA uncles who bemoan the decadence and indiscipline all around us these days. 'India will not tolerate the insult of Sanatan Dharma!' he had shouted while being escorted out of the courtroom - almost the exact words our building society president had 'shouted' in our WhatsApp group about inconsiderate people playing badminton - and creating a racquet - every evening in a 'common space' thereby disturbing her daughter's studies.

Now, many people have castigated Kishore for aiming as high as he did. But I reckon trying to add injury to insult by throwing a shoe at the CJI - or at anyone, really - is a healthier alternative than other more dire manifestations of perceived payback. Think about it. Wouldn't the world have been a cooler, calmer place if Nathuram Godse, Lee Harvey Oswald, James Earl Ray, Beant and Satwant Singh, Dhanu... had thrown shoes?

While the righteous may be right about finding a shoe thrown at the CJI to be an affront to the very institution of the Supreme Court, I feel it's a safer way to let off steam. There is the matter, of course, of whether the septuagenarian Kishore would have ever found his mark. According to an eyewitness, the shoe 'narrowly missed' Justice Vinod Chandran, to whom Kishore, later apologised, saying it was meant for the CJI. Much like (non-RSS) revolutionaries against the British Raj who somehow almost always ended up throwing bombs that rarely landed on their intended targets.

I have never thrown a shoe at anyone - slipper on cockroaches, chappal at burglar cats and invading bats, yes. But barring hurling food a few times when extremely agitated, and once a piece of fried fish at a friend after a football game, I'm not a chuck de! type. Once, a shoe was aimed at me by the director of a play (I was finding it hard to remember my lines), but it landed on a fellow actor. It caused more mirth than outrage. Although, to be fair, an undergrad in a university production of The Winter's Tale is not quite the same as the head of India's judiciary - described by solicitor general Tushar Mehta after the thwarted attempt as 'majestic and magnanimous' as if he's Jabba the Hutt.

In 2008, Iraqi journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi had thrown both his shoes at President George W Bush during a press conference in Baghdad. Bush had ducked, avoiding being hit by either shoe, and quipped, 'All I can report is it's a size 10 shoe that he threw'. Gavai on Monday was also super cool about it, continuing the proceedings with, 'Don't get distracted by all this. These things do not affect me. Continue with the hearing.' Those outraged by Kishore's failed parabola should chill and put themselves in Gavai's shoes.

My friend, who I suspect also harbours strong views, won't ever be throwing his shoes at anyone, though. No one in their right mind would throw and risk losing one of a pair of Allen Edmonds horsebit loafers costing $475. I, on the other hand, usually wear Bata's Power Memory Foam Walking Shoes (₹3,599). So...