The View From a Highrise

 I live in a house, where I can hear Mumbai's song
The rumble of traffic and a train's tooting horn

I look out from the window and join it's unending grind

Late in the night, when sleep is tough to find
Occasionally, the moon joins in, and bathes the city in white
Or at least those few spots, that arent already bathed in streetlight
I wonder in such company, if I could ever go back to a quieter place
Far removed from this hustle bustle, not running at a frenetic pace
I know though, I have changed much and might not like the man I see
In that quiet, I might hear my own disappointed voices, and that may be too much for me
Perhaps a good night's sleep, is a price I cant afford anymore
Ironic are the costs we bear, in the pursuit of the dreams, to which in our youths we swore

Traveling Backwards in Time

Maybe we can travel backwards in time but only at the same speed that we move forward in time. Consequently, the past never overlaps with the future and the present is the only intersection point.

Lullaby

Half way through the night
When sleep's outta sight
I'll hold you in my arms and I'll sing
I know I'll be outta tune
In the darkness of our room
But I'll make those slow dances our thing

I'll rock on my feet
In the sweltering summer heat
And I'll hold you in my arms real tight
I'll twinkle on my toes
When a thunderstorm blows
So you know I'll keep you safe through the night

Sleep gently o baby o'mine
There's love all around you, you're gonna be just fine
Sleep gently o baby o'mine
You're gonna be just fine
Sleep gently o baby o'mine
Sleep gently...

Keep me up all you want
Cause even when I cant
I'll keep awake and hum and drone
I'll try to hold to key
When you're nuzzling me
And I'll wonder how so quickly you've grown

I sing this soft lullaby
For you my child
So when we're far away you'll sing
To a borrowed tune
On some rainy night in June
And a smile to your lips this will bring

Sleep gently o baby o'mine
There's love all around you, you're gonna be just fine
Sleep gently o baby o'mine
You're gonna be just fine
Sleep gently o baby o'mine
Sleep gently...

The Light on the Hill

There's a hill far out in
the distance
that stands out
and apart
It isnt taller than the
others around
neither greener nor browner by day
but it shines out
in the dark
In an otherwise mundane
landscape someone made
it their home
Unafraid of distances
and at peace
with being alone
I stare at the hill often and
on nights that are darker
than others
When the moon doesn't
shine in the sky or when
even starlight the clouds
have smothered
The house stands like
a beacon, a small, bright
clear light for the lost
A silhouette in the light of
the window, I wonder if
I knocked, would it
acknowledge me and to its
chores holler, 'Avast!'
Some nights I have seen
strangers and passers-by
stop to do what I
only ponder
And the silhouette in
the window
to the silhouette at
the door does wander
A dull smoke then rises
from the little chimney
in the kitchen
But no laughter do I
hear, no other sound
than the purring of
its kitten
I wonder if I join
would I be able to
bring mirth
Or would my company
as ever, to more deathly
silence give birth
But it isnt
dark enough tonight to
be knocking to myself I
reason
There will be another
time for that, there
will be another season
For now there is nothing
that the beacon
can attract me for
Like a distant
lighthouse, from rough
shores it wards me off
No nirvana to be found,
no redemption, no solace
So I keep my distance
from the light
that shines bright in a
deeply dark place...

Where to O Time?

Where do you reckon time wants to go?
That it marches on relentlessly forwards and onwards
Never does it pause to take a look back
Not at the brave that stood nor the weak that were cowards

What do you think time wants to win?
That it ruins on for at such an untiring pace
Never a hurdle that it can't take in it's stride
Not even from the ones that fell in its path in this race

What do you reckon time wants to conquer?
That it assaults all boundaries with unfailing courage
Never does it stop to take in what its won
Not the calm that is vanquished nor that which is boiling with rage

Where do you reckon time wants to flow?
That it rumbles and roars like a river in a canyon
Never held back by any obstacle in its path
Not the slopeless plains nor the towering mountain

Do you reckon we just invented time?
To rationalize all that we cannot control?
An entity infallible, uncontrollable, unfathomable
A perfect concept to make our imperfect lives whole...

Normalcy

As a kid, there were no real aspirations that I had in mind. Nothing really that I would have wanted to do that stoked some kind of fire in me that possibly could have carried on and have fired me on in my youth. The only real desire I have ever had was to be different.
As a little kid that had just lost his front teeth and was watching Kapil Dev bowl at his zenith, there was no real surprise for anyone that I idolized him. But I hadn’t developed any real understanding of, or the love and passion for cricket, till I was in my mid teens. The real reason I adored Kapil was because he looked different. I spent a lot of my toothless days trying to push my front teeth out like Kapil’s.
That was the only real driving force I had managed to carry on in my youth. The desire to be different. For a long time I dabbled in poetry and the occasional prose. My friends, and I realise now how many good friends I have had over the years, were always kind enough to encourage me. Most had never read any other poetry than mine own and either from a lack of any real appreciation of poetry, or just the kindness in their hearts, egged me on. I thought I was different.
After about two years of not writing anything and a year of not reading any of my own works, I have come to appreciate the fact that I was not different, just an insufferable, pompous, pretentious kid difficult to be around. In other words, pretty much normal.
As I enter this phase of my life where I rethink my goals and my achievements, the beginning of a mid life crisis, my first crippling question stares me in the face. How do I deal with my new found normalcy?

Yearning

Oh how this heart yearns for a walk on the beach again
Deep in the reaches of the night, with a light splattering of rain
With no plans to look forward to or a rush to get anywhere
Just the soft tunes of crashing waves and the gentle breeze running through my hair
The feel of the wet sand playing incessantly with my sole
In the depth of the shallows, where my incomplete ideas become whole
To sift through those dreams that in a busy life remain out of reach
Oh how this heart yearns again, for a walk on the beach...

Happy New Year!

It's that time of year when we look back on what has been
To cherish all the joys and regret the sadness we have seen
There are new things we've found and some old things we've lost
Happier for the enrichment they've gotten and wiser for whence we've paid the cost
But it's also that time of the year when there is more hope than despair
When we're filled with a desire to make right what lies in disrepair
So here's wishing you new resolutions, new dreams and a new enthusiasm that will lead
To another great year in our lives, happy to have just a little less than we'd want but with a lot more than we'll need!

Indifferent

Time will roll on
Fast and slow all at once
Blink for a moment and you've missed out on much
Stare all you like and you'll have seen nothing worthwhile as such
You'll think you have so much of it in your hands
But when you close your fist to hold it, it slips through your fingers like loose sand
A whole day stretches before you and you think you're gonna spend it wise
But by the time the sun sets you're caught wondering how so fast it flies
There's a day when you wish there were a few more hours
To make up for what was wasted stuck cursing behind the slow crawling snake of cars
Doesn't take much to make you feel better when someone tells you that it's not the hours in your moments but the moments in your hours that matter
And you reminisce in joy gathering them up from your memories where they now scatter
But that's little comfort when you think of what this life is now all about, living in constraints that were pre-defined
Wishing you could live instead by your rules, chasing your dreams and master of your time
But time is no ones slave, no ones mistress, no ones enemy, no ones friend
It was rolling on before you and will roll on after too, unmindful, uncaring, unaffected, indifferent.

I'm old enough now, to want to be young again
To reminisce a past filled with walks in the rain
To want to turn back time and undo some of my past
To look on old roads and wonder how they did change as fast
To have known some people who are now dead
But whose memories will live on in my head

And yet I'm young enough to wish I was more mature than I am
To hope, that someday I'll be wiser, perhaps even a better man
To yet hold on to naive old dreams
To spend mindless hours with my feet dipping in a stream
To look forward to welcoming new lives in mine
And believe that with their presence, at the end, we'll be just fine!

So I have managed one poem in the past one year.

Bikram Wisodm : The Federer Remorse

Yes, I am a Federer fan. Yes, I adore the way he has carried himself all these years.
Now that we've established these facts, we can move ahead knowing this will be an absolutely unbiased and a very objective post.

Did you watch the 2014 Wimbledon Gentlemen's Final? If you did, you witnessed an absolute masterclass in Tennis from two great champions of the game. The end though, as a friend put it later, was sudden. Up until that point in the fifth, I'd absolutely have put my money of Federer making it an unprecedented eighth. Though in all honesty, it would be a precedented eighth Wimbledon crown.

The way Roger carried himself on court though, got me thinking back to the year he had lost to Nadal and cried on court right through the presentation. This wasn't the same man though. This was a calm, composed Roger who seemed at peace with losing to a man who had lost 4 of the last 5 finals he had been in and was filled with self doubt. And like Novak put it, Roger seemed to have let him win it.

I know, conspiracy theory.

But that gets us to the theory of 'The Federer remorse'. It's when you look back on your former self and cannot believe the kind of imbecile you'd been. Just like Roger. He was so much in control of himself (and the course of the match too?) that he was completely at peace with losing to Novak. Right through the match, Fed seemed more concerned about not making the ball-boys and ball-girls run for the ball than he was about trying to run down the Djokovic serve. He looked a complete Champion to me. Something Novak might be a couple of years down the line. Maybe then, Novak might look back on himself and be filled with the 'Oh what an imbecile I was!' emotion. Or in other words, The Federer Remorse! 

I have my pen in hand but it doesn't feel familiar anymore
Leave alone feel like I've put words together to serenade you with, so long before
Thoughts running nineteen to the dozen, those were my glory days
Unfettered by materialistic thoughts, unmoved by worldly ways
I pick the pen again today, to reminisce those times gone by
Or perhaps to let myself know that I still reside with me, that maybe he could still be found if I really try
But words are difficult to find today, they aren't flowing effortlessly
I'm fumbling through the cobwebs in my mind, waddling listlessly
Perhaps I ought to put the pen down now, let the memories of those days go
Or maybe just get back to writing loads again, I'm not really sure, I don't really know....

Should you buy a Micromax?

Perhaps I am unfortunate and have ended up with a bad handset but nothing can excuse the terrible service Micromax offers its customers. If you are thinking of buying this phone (or any of the other Micromax phones on offer) I would advise you to reconsider and explore phones (or TVs or whatever else you are considering) from some of the other established manufacturers out in the market.

To give you more background (and this is just a sob story, so expect a lot of whining and a lot of complaining), I spent a lot of time researching the web for reviews and tech specs of all the budget phones available in the market. I have to admit, given my budget constraints, the Canvas HD was not my first preference and the reason I purchased it was because Lenovo phones weren’t quite as popular and because I had my reservations on the quality of service they might afford, if and when needed later. The underlying assumption was that the significant client base that Micromax had garnered would imply a reliable and wide base of customer service. Boy was I wrong on all counts.

After buying the phone in April 2013, my wife used it for a grand total of 2 months after which the touchscreen stopped responding. Happily, we found a service center not very far from my wife's workplace but that was where our happiness ended. The trip to the service center involved a 4 hour wait (I kid you not!), just to get the phone inspected by the engineers. The sheer number of people waiting to submit their Canvas HDs was rather disconcerting. Nonetheless, the hopeless optimist in me hoped that the phone would not spend more than 15 days in the service center, as assured by them. Foolish and naive me.

Repeated visits to the service center to enquire about the status of repairs were always greeted by "We'll call you with an update." Like a fool in love, I kept waiting for their call, not knowing that this relationship was doomed and I was being stood up. My wife though, is smarter than me and after three months of fighting and abusing and cursing and following up with customer care over twitter and email, she finally had the phone in hand.

Note: Time since phone has been purchased: approx. 5 months, time we have had it, approx. 2 months.

So, cheerfully, we took charge of our beloved phone, almost ready to forgive and forget. This story though, has no happy ending or a happy between or a happy before-the-end or anything to do with any joy what so ever, so you might as well be prepared for more sobbing.

The phone had several signs of physical damage, on the metal band along its edge and disturbingly, the menu options at the bottom, which were near transparent. Another argument later, they begrudgingly took it back and we were returned a better looking phone, IMEI updated on the original bill, et al.

We kept the phone in the box, intent on using it after we had the screen guard and case in place. Given our white-collared slavery though, we weren’t able to put the necessary protection in place for a few weeks and when we did finally have everything in place, we realized that the earpiece wasn’t functioning. Moreover, put the phone to charge and it would shut down. (Check the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vc2TPj932A&feature=youtube_gdata_player)

Once again, we faced the daunting task of spending a few hours at the service center. This time though, I decided to be smart and choose a different service center, to hopefully have a better experience. (Keeping with the theme of this story though), "SOB!"

The service center informed us that the IMEI on the bill and that of the phone was different and they couldn’t accept the phone! We made our way back to the original service center, who said that it was an honest mistake, promptly changed the IMEI, stamped the bill and took it in for repairs, in the first week of November. After waiting patiently (If you are looking for some positive, you can take one here: I am a more patient man thanks to this experience!), we finally called up customer care, fought to speak with some seniors and asked them for a speedy resolution. The day was 30 Dec 2013. We were assured of a resolution within a max of 10 working days.

Today is the 13th of Feb, 2014. Needless to say, no response and I have absolutely no idea of what they have done with my kidnapped phone. Sigh.

I have recently approached the consumer forum and shall definitely be pursuing legal action. Should you still buy a Micromax? I hope you can answer that question yourself.



Oh! And just to sum up,

Number of months since purchase: 10,

Number of months of use: 2,

Number of months of repossession by Micromax: 7.

I haven’t begun counting the interest they owe me on INR15,250 that I paid Micromax to hold my phone hostage (Weird kidnapping this, the ransom was paid beforehand!)

In case you are a die-hard Micromax fan though, I have all the electronic records of our email conversations with Micromax and the recorded voice calls of all the customer care assurances. I'll gladly let you verify them for yourself.

Leading the race, well done mate!
Doing much better than you'd expected!
But when did the small things become immaterial?
When did your joys become so material?
When did long hours at work gain precedence over an evening with your friends?
When did deadlines start making you so tense?
When did their numbers become more important than your stories?
When did long walks on the beach with her get confined to your memories?
Quick to anger, slow to forgive...
When Biks, did you forget what it means to live?

The Radio Theory

Windfalls please us more than our accomplishments. Take the simple example of the radio. If a song you love is playing, it makes your day. Yet, in this age, we could be listening to whatever we want with the massive cloud system we carry with us on our phones, if we'd care to search for them. A song accidentally playing on the radio though,  puts us on Cloud 9. What a lazy generation we are! 

Remorse

I don’t remember a day without a conflict inside

The long debates between breaking the rules and the choice to abide

The results have always varied and I’ve been neither good nor bad

Always guilty though, of choosing whatever makes me glad

To think deeper, it seems the results have varied with age

From foolish ideals to egotistic rage

I thought I’d be wiser now, making saner choices

That with experience, I’d heed the right voices

To look at my present, I’d have thought I was right

But with my perspective, everything looks different in hindsight

What would I be, I ask, without the choices I made

Just another cherishing his memories, while his dreams slowly fade

As summer gets washed away in the torrents of this monsoon

An old man stares at me, eyes glazed with a pall of gloom

The leaves rustle in the wind and his attention is drawn

I think he is reminiscing, all that is gone

‘I know I won’t end up like him,’ I promise my youth

There will be no remorse and the promise of tomorrow, will always be good

The rain comes pouring down as I turn my attention to the numbers on my screen

And I’m an old man, reminiscing those long walks in the rain, that once had been.

Hold the strength to accept the unwanted answers to your awkward questions and you will hear no lies.

I did not have many needs
But in time, was taught to want more
To look at another’s with greed
And let jealousy lead me to what lies beyond my shore

Their teachings seemed absurd at first
And I looked at them, strangely intrigued
As they ran hard to quench their thirst
Getting thirstier as they picked up speed

Many passed me by
As I trudged on at my own pace
They looked down upon me for a while
Before being sucked back into their race

Untended, I left my sails
And I let myself drift
Travelling along an uncharted trail
Travelling as the winds saw fit

Yet, somehow, the winds have conspired
To bring me on the beaten track
To journey where all travelers are tired
But I’m still as directionless, as I was way back

They still tell me every day
That I must find intent
To wizen up to their ways
But I’m an adamant fool, stupidly content

I remember, not long ago
I was in a race with time
I lost then though
Couldn’t make it from nine to five

They tell me I’m in it once more
But they can’t fool me and I wish they’d learn
For their world is as absurd to me now as was before
And I couldn’t care less for what they think they earn

I may seem to have learned to enjoy
What now, in their world is mine
But I’m sure not even they believe my joys
For I’m really just biding my time

The winds of change will inevitably sweep in
Perhaps to drown me in a sea of words
So I let myself be carried on their whims
Even if it means immersing further in this world

I did not have many needs
But in time, was taught to want more
To look at another’s with greed
And let jealousy lead me to what lies beyond my shore

Their teachings seemed absurd at first
And I looked at them, strangely intrigued
As they ran hard to quench their thirst
Getting thirstier as they picked up speed

Many passed me by
As I trudged on at my own pace
They looked down upon me for a while
Before being sucked back into their race

Untended, I left my sails
And I let myself drift
Travelling along an uncharted trail
Travelling as the winds saw fit

Yet, somehow, the winds have conspired
To bring me on the beaten track
To journey where all travelers are tired
But I’m still as directionless, as I was way back

They still tell me every day
That I must find intent
To wizen up to their ways
But I’m an adamant fool, stupidly content

I remember, not long ago
I was in a race with time
I lost then though
Couldn’t make it from nine to five

They tell me I’m in it once more
But they can’t fool me and I wish they’d learn
For their world is as absurd to me now as was before
And I couldn’t care less for what they think they earn

I may seem to have learned to enjoy
What now, in their world is mine
But I’m sure not even they believe my joys
For I’m really just biding my time

The winds of change will inevitably sweep in
Perhaps to drown me in a sea of words
So I let myself be carried on their whims
Even if it means immersing further in this world