Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Water Tap Has Gone Dry

The Doors of Wisdom

123,085 items / 846,451 views

through
the doors of wisdom
of a slum childs heart
begins a lesson
in humility
that from
the child of a
rich man
puts him apart
both
through
their karma
their destiny
a new path chart
the poor child
with all shortcomings
you cannot outsmart
living on the slender
thread of hope
his journey starts
the rich mans father
drives a merc
the poor mans father
pushes a hand cart
bodily blows
of bad luck
the poor child
will thwart
for one life
is poverty
for the other
cultural art

The Mad Poet of Bandra

122,781 items / 841,607 views

she got tired
of his poems
she threw
him out
on the street
fucked forever
barefeet
dust humidity
fucked heat
although
she has deleted him
from
her fucked
consciousness
from her hard disk
his data she could
not delete
a cryptic heart beat
a pain now a memory
bitter and sweet
life a story
incomplete
seminal sorrow
beneath a winding sheet
a stop gap dead beat
in the cold storage
of her heart
putrid dead meat

On The Weeping Mound of a Slum

pain stuck
to sorrow
like
chewing gum
on the
weeping
mound of a slum
sounds
of silence
from a broken drum
the flesh was willing
the soul has gone numb

Boxed In Lost in Transit

a slum lounge
without
a future
without hope
they sit
boxed in
lost in transit
childhood
among vipers
in a snake pit
every step
they get hit
their world
unlit
time
the culprit
as they grow
age
to their
fucked fate
submit
a poem
an ode
on childhoods
obit

to elisa davinca

The Street Don

abbe gandu
hafta behejta ke nahi
teri maka sudarta ke nahi
sale abhi ake tera hath
pair tod daloonga
madar chod
bhadwe ki aulad
rand chodi ka


I moved away hurriedly don was smiling but fucking the happiness of the businessman at the other end..

Two Blind Men

outside the
jain mandir
they stand
sockets
for eyes
open hands
pain that
my camera
panned
a world
of darkness
crumbling
sand
living
on crumbs
urban
wastelands

Marziya Tries her Hand at Rangoli

This was taken on Ram Navmi day , and the rangoli adorned this street as the Daya Sagar Hanuman Mandir palki was to pass this way..

And it took the guy over 6 hours to make it , once the palki made its way from here it would be destroyed by the crowds who will walk on it..

Rangoli is a very spiritual art akin to tattoo, connecting to the divinity of god..and the message of peace hope and harmony is a very satisfying objective of a rangoli.

Marziyas hands were itching for the color sprinkler and the sculptors always ask me to bring Marziya to the Durga and Ganesh workshops as she loves to paint.

But last night Marziya was in extreme pain crying non stop, so she finally slept at 3 am, we were all awake she will visit her doctor today.

Hooked To Nursery Rhymes on YouTube

123,085 items / 845,761 views

twinkle twinkle little star
jack fell down and broke his crown
humpty dumpty had a great fall
mary had a little lamb
blah blah black sheep
little jack horner
old mc donald had a farm
i am a little teapot
hickory dickory dock
hush little baby
rain rain go away

and it goes on
and on and on
without a yawn
if she gets bored
than it is paper
colored crayon
some things
you learn
some things
you attain
somethings
you inherit
inborn
an iron steel wall
separates
a wise one
from a moron
marziya shakir
2 year old
favorite
of uncle
salman khan
the only
cine star
with humility
generosity
brains and brawn

The Art of Street Rangoli

The Muslim Beggars Plight

who is she
why is she begging
where is her husband
questions
left unanswered
wingless
trapped bird
you
dont have to
take my word
her pain
seen
but on the soul
of a Muslim
sleeping society
goes totally unheard
her life unaltered
bruised and battered
window panes of her soul
inadvertently shattered

Dont Fuck With Me

3 Idiots Asleep

Under Stated Street Photography

The Finishing Line - Murgi Ki Tang

finally
reached
the finishing line
the rest of her
athletes body
there is no sign
a marathon race
she did win online
wasted glory
now supine
body and soul
wont align
tears on the soul
of her short lifeline

East Indian House

The Man Wiith The Pincer Hand

The Gutter Gold Diggers Of Bandra Jain Mandir Road

The Dhobi Womans Kids

Life in the Slums

a picture
postcard
of
monotonous
memories
i share
life goes on
who cares
beneath a layer
another layer stares
pain despair
remorse
it bares
as you
pass by
your vision
it snares
save me
save me
it swears
it blares
time like
an overseer
menacingly
glares
human
survival
human
defiance
dares

The Tamarind Seller Bazar Road

At first he sold desi eggs , but due to the scorching heat business has been really bad ,. so he is now selling tamarind, he cleans them himself and sells a pack for Rs 60 a kg.

He is an old Muslim man and he works his way through life without grumbling or complaining..he has no hate most of his clients are Maharashtrians and he speaks Marathi too.

And this is the example of love peace and tolerance he gives makes each each second of existence count.

These are stories and pictures that I shoot.

Lost Illusions In The Slums

123,084 items / 845,429 views

waiting
for times to change
when the builder mafia
with political clout
will tear the slums
the slum dwellers
short changed
for the rich man
a new tower
in exchange
one day
mumbai
will be a city
of only the rich
the powerful
should
not sound strange
no slums
no poor men
no beggars
no hawkers
no north indians
a new pipe dream
re arranged
corruption
bank fraud
white collar
crimes
will be the
only items
on the menu
unchanged

Rebuilding a House of Hope

rebuilding
a new house
of hope is hard
the earlier
one demolished
all scarred
from where all
dreams were barred
as man
with his mortality
sparred..
self survival
always being
on guard
death is life's
only reward
whether
you are buried
or charred
your soul
forever eternal
you can
never disregard



Dedicated to Teresa Burke on the untimely passing away of her dear Mother ..

When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. ~Author Unknown

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