Thursday, September 29, 2016
get ready for
to pack ,,shooting
the lovers of Hussain
the only Humanity in
Islam that the Wahabis
Salafis Jehadis could not
hijack..1400 years flashback
our lifes goal one track
protesting against the
terrorism of the Yazidis
we persecuted shias
killed murdered decapitated
die everyday born everyday
we come back to curse the
killers of hussain those evil
scumbags ..we are the tears
of a hapless mother of Hussain
our mission of peace love
humanity can never be sideracked
I was invited by my Guru my Mentor Mr Mukesh Parpiani and I shot the proceedings for those photography lovers who could not make it ..it was worth every minute listening to the Halloween words of a great Maestro Mr Raghu Rai,,,
A photograph has picked up a fact of life, and that fact will live forever. - Raghu Rai
posted at Facebook
I have deleted most friend requests as I will be shortly deactivating my Facebook account I need a sabbatical..so to those of you who want to connect with me follow me on You Tube or Twitter ,,
Malang Of Mumbai
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
From the cradle to the grave
The Muslim says Allah ho Akbar
The Hindu says Har Har Mahadev
The Christian says Jesus will save
Each one to his spirituality enslaved
The coward and the brave ..
The king the joker and the knave
Standing on a shore waiting for the wave
From the castle back to the cave
For a fistful of sky everyone craves
Written in a moving bus this Alis slave
Monday, September 26, 2016
feverish outside the antique shop at bazar drenched to the bones
he waits watching people who pass him by this world a market place everyone busy involved caught in a rat race ..
people busy conspiring to grab another mans space no time for love pretentious platitudes no grace ..ugly rotten dream of wealth self glory they chase..
the phony husband thinking of his mistress in his wifes embrace humanity a dichotomous mask of deceit conceit on every face
lost illusions lost hope god and man have parted ways
man now is bound to his caste his religion his race
jesus at the antique shop a lost moment on display
Perhaps I am a madman too
I meet them cosmically out of
The blue they wait for me at
Crossroads of the Mind old
And new ..do ask a madman
What are you believe me for
Once he won't ever tell you
Whether he is a Muslim
Christian or Hindu ..no
He is not a Jew ..
But metaphorically try
To step into his shoes
A drenching pain of sorrow
A dead tomorrow he has
No clue he lives from one
Mad day to the next a cup
Of tea is heady brew he does
Not bathe on the road he
Urinates defecates trouble
Him badwords he spews
They drive him away with
Stones at the public loo
Sleeping outside a shut shop
In the rains even his dreams
Are gloomy untrue ...
He could not fly over the cuckoos nest
He solemnly silently from this world of
Sane people permanently withdrew. .
As a photographer I poeticize the soul of my pictures ...what about you ...
The indomitable formidable International Tennis Coach Mr Venkat Iyer respected Guru of my Coach Surendra Pawar .
Life taught me a lesson and it has stayed with me all these years ..without a teacher or a guru you are a rudderless paper boat ..at the mercy of the vagaries of the waves and the unfriendly shoreline of fate .
I realized one needs a Guru and I was lucky that I have several gurus ..two of my photo gurus passed away but they still guide me in the ethereal sense .
And may God give my photo guru living legend Shreekant Malushte a very long life .
I have a Naga Guru who is a male but during a certain feast he takes on the avtar of a woman I am told his form his voice all change he becomes a receptacle for a Devi ..and Shri Vijay Giri Maharaj Juna Akhara does ling kriya at every Kumbh before taking the holy dip.
I have a Chishtiya Guru Peersab Fakhru Miya Ajmer Hujra no 6 I am grateful for him to my tryst with Sufism Malangs Rafaees and Qalandaris .
He is the door that led me into green pastures of metaphysical thought and retrospection .
I have a Jesuit Guru Fr Jaun and I won't ever miss his Latin Mass on Easter Sunday never .
My androgynous guru of all good things is Laxmi Narayan Tripathi I simply call her Guruji earlier I used to call her Laxmi but she has reached an elevated plain after founding the Kinnar Akhara at Ujjain ..
Thanks to her and her inspiring push I have shot the Hijra community up close
.I met some very interesting folks only because of her and one is my Malang brother Marc De Clercq..I refreshed my photography gave it more depth watching Marc shoot we are both urban mystics ..he is urban white I am rustic brown .
The next Guru is Syed Masoom Ali Baba Asqan my documentary on Dam Madar Malangs would have not been possible without him and to reach out to the Malangs as a photographer I became a Malang too ...
I recently met Aghori s at Khamakhya crematorium spent several nights with them shooting their rituals but kept my Diksha on hold ..I am not ready as yet ...I leave it to my cosmic fate .
And now last but not the least my Tennis Coach Guru Surendra Pawar has changed my vision my life making me play tennis not just physically but holistically too this is one Guru who has grown on the parched poetry of my soul ..he nourishes me and gives me a reason to breathe freely .
I have great respect for Tantric Samrat Sai Kamakhya Agnitantrik Kaulacharya.. Sailalji ..he gave me food shelter and took care of my needs at Khamakhya peak without charging me a single cent ..I call him Guruji ..and Gurus are the life-force without a Guru you are nothing but a dead piece of shit .
And than I have one greatest Guru my beginning my end and he is my breath my body my soul he is none but ..Man Kunto Maulah Imam Manasto Name e Ali .
Just a single call Ya Ali Madad and I am saved ...
Happy evening from Bandra Bazar Road .
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Sukh Shanti Sab Se bada Dhan
For peace hope humanity the poetry of my soul yearns ..as the flame perched precariously on the candle burns ..what I lost perhaps may not return ..my memories of her love spent out ashes in an urn ..at every disillusioning turn ..
Caught in a vice between my dead father and the burnt out dreams of my son..
I move but I cannot run ..
Fate controls our lives our moments our destiny .
From the second day that Marziya my first granddaughter was born I bent down on my knees beneath her cradle and thanked God for this generous gift of life love and truth .
And by the time Marziya was born 9 years back from this day I had given up boozing I was absolutely clean in mind heart and soul when I took my grandchild in my arms and when I put her back in the cradle she gave me a godly smile .
So the first thing Marziya saw on 25 Nov was my face and Shiva's third eye holding sway in my camera .
She was born with the umbilical cord choking her neck on ,24 November ..and I was at my studio on 29 Road Bandra I had not seen my first granddaughter I was crying and here you won't believe what I am about to say even as a Muslim ..a few Naga Sadhus walked in as they loved coming to my shop for my blessings before leaving for a pilgrimage ..these ones mystics seers were going to Ganga Sagar.
I had told them nothing my face was wet with my tears ..I wish I can say in Hindi what they told me ..Congratulations don't cry she has come with Shiva's serpent round her neck she will be fine your granddaughter ..I was stunned and thanked them and this is the magic of India ..
Well there are many stories connected to Marziya I have shot over 16000 images of Marziya sadly those days I did not know how to shoot videos ..
Marziya and Nerjis after living for years in Bandra both are Bandraites have moved to their maternal grandparents house .
And now you can imagine the void loneliness of my wife s heart and my longing for my grandchildren.
But at this stage they have relocated and we talk to them. My son was out of the country but the day he arrived he left to see them he was going to spend his days with them and will return today .
I have most of Marziya images on Flickr as a set album .
But my back up is on DVDs so I bought a DVD player and last month began the task of retrieving her childhood memories and via the Windows Movie Maker began showcasing them as slide show on my You Tube Channel .
My only humble gift as a photographer to my first grandchild ..I sit late and go about it ..I told her about it but they don't have WIFI ..but she thanked me and I began to cry again ..
I spent the best years of my life with Marziya Shakir ..be it the Church Shia Mosque Ram Mandir I showed her all the places where Man hoarded God ..and taught her to see my world through the third eye of Shiva .
I made her shoot St Peter ..I made her shoot our Ram temple ..I made her see Mogul Masjid I made her shoot Ganesha Durga and I made her shoot the legend of Mr Rajesh Khanna at Ashirwad...and Kakaji loved her the most so did Salman Khan .
I made her shoot Moharam Shia kids scourging at Almeida park..I made her shoot beggars Hijras I made her shoot the poetry of my vision and bequeathed it to her ..
Zain Hussain presented her the Nikon DSLR she was barely 3 and he added to her cinematic fortitude but like me she is tired of shooting stills and wants to shoot stories people and her surroundings ..she will have her own You Tube channel soon .
So I made it feasible for her if she Google her name get childhood would come to life. Even after I am peacefully dead and gone living again in the eyes heart kidney liver of a beggar .
Happy Morning from Bandra .
And Marziya Shakir will never forget her gurus Dr Glenn Losack .Viola Marc De Clercq and Manuela Nessi.
Hope won't turn hunger into bread
Being a Muslim beggar
Half living half dead .
His dying soul made of lead .
To despair remorse he was wed
A few coins as gratification in
His beggars bowl his cosmic fate
Fled ..once he is dead and gone
On his unmarked grave a patch of a green bed
...grass weeping in the winds
He was a a devout man tears they will
So beware beneath your feet lies dreams
Unfulfilled when hastily you tread ..
A Muslim cemetery invokes you recite a
Fatiah for those ..lying inert stone dead
Poeticizing a street moment that
attracted and repelled ....
words that sought comfort in synchronicity as
They cosmically rebelled ..
Friday, September 23, 2016
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
posted at Facebook
This was shot at noon yesterday from Mr Yusuf Lakdawalas bedroom balcony .
Normally I shoot Carter road sea front from his hall and as a person living in Bandra I have a lot of passionate memories of my grandchildren and Carter road and there are powerfully etched memories of my mentor late Mr Rajesh Khanna and his demolished dream of love Ashirwad..but the show must go on .
It's been over 3 months or more I have not been able to walk at Carter Road ..after my recent accident at Khamakhya my rigorous walks have completely stopped ..and the rest in bed with no work hit me the hardest .
I had a very busy day morning at Yusuf Bhais place than I got my hair colored came home showered rushed to Mr Suneel Darshan office to MHADA ..
Just across his bungalow is Mr Kapil Sharmas controversial bungalow and seated outside a bevy of cops and media vans pass by to take a byte.
I did not shoot it after my work got over with Shiv Darshan I headed to Mr KRKs office along the same road .
We had an appointment but Mr Kamal Khan was extremely busy so he has called me today .
I took a ricksha to Santa Cruz completed another work and than landed up at my haunt Bandra Talao to meet the ear cleaners
..I was meeting them after Bakra Eid I got Raju to clean my ears but I pay all three of them and this is simply because vthey all want to clean my ears I am their 65 year old poster boy and star attraction ..
Seeing me others line up with each of them .
I promised to get them lunch when I come here next .
When I am down depressed moody internally aggravated with my Fucked cosmic fate I come here listen to their woes and forget my own ..
What a contrast from Yusuf bhais sea facing classy house to the pond facing pigeon shittingbBandra Talao.
I walked home via Jain Mandir I completed another chore ...
My Dell needs urgent servicing but I have no time to go to their service center opp Amarsons Bandra Linking Road .
After sometime I will hit the tennis court ..this is the only physical activity and I have not yet checked my blood sugar ..since my accident .
I have to go meet Mr Kamal Khan again today ...and here I must add I had got a few coconuts as Prasad from the karyakartas of Lalbaugh Chya Raja I gave a few to Mrs Poonam Sinha and she felt blessed ..she is my fairy angel godmother and if I die two people who will visit me first are Yusuf Bhai and Mrs Shatrughan Sinha ...and honestly metaphorically I die every night and wake up to another day failing to redeem the poetry of my soul.
And I hope and pray my wife my sons give my body to medicine I want my overworked some parts of my body my fragmented creative brain my camera eyes my languishing broken heart my alcohol surviving liver my lethargic kidneys my thick skin to be part of some other beggars life story ..the beggars I shot prolifically the poor the homeless and the Hijras too.
I learnt to read the text book of life thanks to these beautiful people community ethnicity .
I refuse even as a Muslim the slumber in the Shia grave and I also refuse to cavort bed 72 honey trapped nubile angels in a Muslim heaven.
And the poor nubile angels ate damned getting Fucked by the second by Jehadi bombed body parts ..and Judy getting jumped no rest no replacement ..
I refuse the Muslim heaven if it has no place for my Hindu friends ..or my Christian Buddhist friends .
I will for once be happy to die as a heretic .
This is my last will and testament ..
I don't know I will miss this world but yes I will miss my granddaughter s Marziya Nerjis Zinnia ..I saw them I saw the world .
Now I have nothing left to see ..once I wrote prodigiously when I drank Old Monk now I write boosted by two cups of black tea .
Happy Morning to all of you in the perfumed garden of Pokes Tags called Facebook.
I asked my children after my death to delete all my Flickr Facebook Twitter accounts ..
I do no want to leave any traces of my Fucked journey of Life .
A Bientot ..See you soon .
This was for the trolls who love fucking my ass from time time to time more on Twitter than Facebook .
I will deactivate my Facebook before I leave for Moharam at Hyderabad ..as my timeline will be gushing blood and gore. .
I think I will stick to Flickr and Twitter .
Will see you guys next year in 2017 .