Sunday, March 20, 2011

The Cat Lady of Bandra

Rang..Aur Umang Krishna Aur Radha Ke Sang

Dear Honorable Chief Minster

176,501 items / 1,382,915 views



flowers on
his body
now turned
as heavy
as chains
on the soul
of Christianity
in Amchi Mumbai
blows that rain
crosses fall
demolished
blood flowing
down the drain
dear hon
chief minister
for once
be human
feel our pain
dont politicize
it as a plank
for your next
election campaign
so much
to your electorate
you have to explain
why are your
people so cruel
inhuman
is the refrain
through such
heroics
of demolishing
heritage structures
what do you attain
illegal structures
rise like
towers of babel
do we complain
silently
watching
the beak dance
of democracy
what it contains
so dear sir
once just once
be humane
together
for peace
progress
humanity
honor retain

Please Shoot Our Picture They Said

We Both Will Be Sacrificed For The Greater Good He Said

176,493 items / 1,382,854 views


poet you might
be living
longer than me
shooting poems
i will be fuckin dead
decapitated head
to appease
mans rotten soul
i was bred
i can fuck
any she goat
i want i dont need
to divorce or wed
thankfully i get laid
i get my daily bread
fattened i am well fed
i dont have marital
thorns on my bed
i am single happy
a peaceful path
i tread chewing
the cud instead
cursing my
human fate
mocking my
emotional mortality
the bazar goat
speedily fled
leaving me
wondering
as i
pondered
plundered
bleeding red
monotonously
walking ahead
refusing to
believe
the reason
they call me
a dickhead
my doomed destiny
embedded
on my forehead
as fate grins
seductively
tempting me
a gaping hole
legs spread

Held Captive In The Soul of My Poem..

One Thing I Know I Trust Dogs More Than Human Beings

On The Tombstone Of A Dear Departed One Last Time

This Is For Jeff Lamb..

Why Are Women All Furry and Feline?

This Is My Easter Gift In Advance To Anthony Posey

The Punch Of Superman

The Punch Of Superman

He Saw My Rings He Shut Up For Good

Bob Marley Shook Hand With Me

Man You Got Fuckin Crazy Rings He Said

Ok I Tripped I Fell I Lost It ..I Mean The Tshirt

176,483 items / 1,382,825 views


My dear friend Ali Reza Shirazi has a tshirt store at Bandra Hill Road called Final Destination , the craziest collection of weird Tshirts that I come fr the heck of it and shoot.. it amuses him and the clients in his shop..

For me his shop is letting off steam from the pressure of work and life...

His shop is an extension of my own mind shop though... cramped with words upon words , trying to get the fuck out of my head... some make it some dont..

Most of my fucked words love to get attached to my hijra poems and I dont blame them my hijras would get you a rise in the worst recession of your life time..

I dont wear printed tshirts or printed stuff only tiger leper prints...and plain black body fits.. I dont wear shirts at all.. nor trousers or jeans I would have to be drugged to be made to wear it..

And I wear slippers out of necessity I hate footwear I dont have shoes ..not a single pair..

I wear bandit trousers very baggy and loose and dhotis.. my color is black..

I used to wear saffron but it does not turn me on anymore..

I can come up with the craziest sense of fashion and style with my old clothes but I have lost that part of sartorial libido... I think simplicity is the best form of presentation..

My jewelry adds to what I lack in dress sense.. but I sold of some exotic pieces every time went broke.. and so I make do with what I have.

I used to wear hats Sufi caps but I gave it up for the turban.. the turban keeps the head cool and hides the gray matter too..

What Is Hardcore Street Photography According to a Photo Blogger

176,476 items / 1,382,797 views

And the only hardcore street photography I know is when the sword is over my body as I lie beneath A Shia guys feet as he hits his back with the sword on the street...during Moharam.

Or when he scourges his back with monstrous blades and I am just a whisker away from my own death...

And I say this in sheer humility without offending the soul of a Flickr hardcore street photographer and his group...

And Man Is Most Helpless When He Is Asleep...

Sleep Is The Only Time When Man Connects With God..

The Fruit Cart And The Madman of Bandra

176,472 items / 1,382,734 views

Every morning when I am hungry I have my breakfast here a plate oif sliced mixed fruit for Rs 10..from the fruit cart , and than proceed to work.

I have breakfast at home but because of my diabetic condition I get hungry sooner than usual..and the madman is a new entrant to the street life I shoot at Bandra.

They all pass this way and it was here I met Mr Loomit the street painter and street graffiti artist..I took two shots and moved away ...than read his article in the Hindustan Times.

So on this road you meet celebrities too incognito ..

This is an extension of Ram Mandir Road Badra Bazar that leads towards JJ Colony or Jain Mandir Road Bandra that exits out towards Bandra Hill Road.

Waiting For A Bite

Colors of Holi Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

176,464 items / 1,382,671 views

This ends Marziyas tryst with the camera on holi day.. and she has shot all this hand held though her angle of view is mostly shooting up in the air... her subjects are taller than her in all aspect but she manages without getting intimidated at all..

The Source Of The Humanity of My Blog

176,351 items / 1,381,635 views

hamara khoon
bahe bahe ke
yeh kehta hai
ghame hussain
hamare dilon
main rehta hai
yazidiyat
ka har nayi
bhauchar
sehta hai
kabhi
kabhi
jahan ham
rehte hain
wahan
yazid
rehta hai
yeh ham
nahi kehte
uska iman
kehta hai
hussain
ka dushman
insaniyat ka
dushman
woh mauwiyah
ka beta hai
lamba kurta
chota pajama
sar par hare
rang ka petha hai

Sometimes Even Poets Get Stuck In The Vortex of Nothingness

Naryal Pani...Is Better Than Bhang On Holi Day

Oh Jesus Forgive Them She Pleads

176,443 items / 1,382,186 views

the poetry
of life
through
my camera
lens i read
peace
the path to humanity
beyond caste or creed
humility better than
excessive lust or greed
a world god created
both for the flower
the neglected weed
every kind of breed
black white yellow
all from a single seed
a necklace made
of colorful beads
his wounds now fresh
as they demolish
his crosses
viciously
they proceed
have they forgotten
god gave his only son
a sacrifice of a mother
on the soul of humanity
concede a travesty
of roman justice
truly he did not impede
godliness lies
in actions good deeds
yes truly in mumbai
the cross bleeds

Could This Be The Reason They Dont Like Bhaiyyas?

Ujad Gaya Ummeedon Ka Chaman Phool Khilne Se Pahle,

176,445 items / 1,382,325 views

Ujad Gaya Ummeedon Ka Chaman Phool Khilne Se Pahle,
Mila Dard Her Rah Per Khushi Milne Se Pahle.
Kaash Mera Koi Apna Hota Jo Mera Dard Baant Sakta,
Uske Aansoo Main Thaam Leta Apne Haathon Me Zamee Per Girne Se Pahle.

Chalo Acha Hua apno me Koi Gair To Nikla

176,445 items / 1,382,325 views

Na Milta Ghum To Barbadi ke Afsane Kahan Jate
Agar Duniya Chaman Hoti To Virane Kahan Jate
Chalo Acha Hua apno me Koi Gair To Nikla
Agar Hote Sabhi Apne To Begane Kahan Jate

the camera in my hand

i am awake when my world sleeps

sleepless in bandra

taking polio drops

worlds youngest street photographer

i show you my world through my blogs

as yet i cannot be typed

she is life as as it poetically flows

176,411 items / 1,382,097 views

simple lucid without being verbose

tried to be faceless never worked for me

poets never sleep

man is a captive in the poetry of his life

kya hua tera wada

Facebook Connect She Left Me For Another Man

The Sad Tale of a Mouse

Holding The Tiger By The Tale

Close up of Hijda Graves Eunuch Saint And His Biological Son

Graves of the Hijda Saint and his Biological Son

176,342 items / 1,381,607 views

At The Grave of The Eunuch Saint and his Son

Finally dripping from head to toe I reached the foothill from the top of the Taki Naki Shrines at the grave of the Eunuch Saint his biological son, the name plate has HIJDA written in Hindi, there are couple of graves here that I had shot from the peak of Taki Naki Shrines.
The main grave is of Bibi Jamal the daughter of Jaipal Jadugar of Yore , she was sent by the Jadugar or the Wizard King to seduce the Kwajah Moinuddin Chisthti Al Sabri, when in those days the Khwajah had made this place his home , had gathered lots of followers who converted to Islam from the suffocating caste based religion of those days , mainly Hinduism.
This angered Jaipal Jadugar he tried all his magical tricks to get rid of the Khwajah , even his own daughter begged forgiveness of the Khwajah accepted Islam became the Khwajah earliest disciples, her grave brings a lot of barren women here the fruit of a tree with her blessings adds to the fertlity of a barren woman..
The Eunuch as the story goes did not believe in the Kwajah challenged him to bestow him with a child , he would accept Islam, the Khwajah sent him to the tomb of Bibi Jamal the new name of the converted daughter of Jaipal Jadugar ..
The Eunuch challenged her too, became pregnant realized his stupid demand , folly and begged forgiveness asked the Holy Khwajah to intervene on his behalf he no more wanted the child growing in his womb.. His words were accepted by Bibi Jamal she threw a ball told him to follow it .. the story goes he fell of a cliff into the ravines where he lies and the child split out of his body, is buried next to him.
This is the most revered place of worship for the Hijdas , Eunuchs the transgender the hijdas of India , they do not come here via the route I came but through a motorable short cut from Taragadh , which was shown to me by a tribal boy from Fakira pada..going back the way I had come would have been my end..

This place is called Chashme Nur..on the way to Taragadh Mountains.

I was completely exhausted , dehydrated was wearing the uncomfortable Moroccan Djellaba , with nothing inside.. in a Dhoti I could have stripped to my waist , this was not possible in the djellaba..
And this was my first trek.. that I was not aware where my feet would take me..
I was barefeet too..

The Source Of The Humanity of My Blog

The Devadasi Hijra Of Mumbai

Aiega Hijra And Me

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