Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The School Rickshah of Nakhas

chilly winter mornings
but never late for class
heavy traffic at akbari gate
but they all let him pass
the school rickshah of nakhas
memories solidified as pictures alas
lucknow is lucknow
cannot be recreated en masse
sadly it is no more what it was

to mr pc little a giant of a man..

In a State Where They Build Statues

shot in Lucknow

devastating the soul of humanity
the poor the down trodden
they abuse
politicians dead and alive with
the taxpayers money
build statues
the resident of this state
in Maharashtra
gets beaten black and blue
here it is sunni v/s shias
muslims v/s hindus
decadence of human life
no values no truce
politicians powers misuse
the common man from despair
even god cant rescue
man here treated
worse than a monkey
in a zoo
rahul gandhi
the new messiah of hope
they look up to
his humility
his strength
his virtue
son of the soil
some good news

Fragmented Words of Pain

hidden from you eyes
is her face etched
in despair
no cosmetic surgery
will repair
wrinkles warts
no with you
she wont share
the ignominy
of her wretched
she wont bare
she knows
heart to heart
you dont care
a photo blogger
brings to the shores
of your computer
pedestrian poetry
a new software
shot in Lucknow
could be shot elsewhere
nothing but fragmented
words as genius to declare

The Masked Warriors of Pain

shot at Lucknow near gufra map imambada

so much sorrow
no sorrow
like ghame hussain
on a battlefield of life
masked warriors of pain
from time memorial
fighting for freedom
from spiritually
male dominated
the jehad for a better life
covered in blood stain
a religiosity of peace
by a hateful campaign
gone down the drain
wa waila
sad wa waila
ya hussain

Another Brick In The Wall

shot at lucknow

near gufra map iimam bada
a deathly doom and pall
a muslim beggar woman
another brick in the wall
living her death
to the grave she will crawl
but unfortunately
gufra map cemetery is not
for beggars or common
people at all
rubbing shoulder to shoulder
the mighty and the tall
even those sacred souls
who once recited majlis
in this hall
on her hidden face
her future
that time as an epitaph
has scrawled
a few washed out
metal coins
like her washed out destiny
as her life's windfall
sepulchral sorrow
rise of her downfall

Muslim Women Wordless Poetry

shot at Lucknow

near gufra map
imambada she sits
the maulanas pass her by
as they rush for majlis
in their spiritual outfits
the poor muslim woman
at the mercy
of a compassionless
world is what hits
victims or just misfits
in a world run by bandits
a few coins on her face
they miserly spit
her fate as a born beggar
she cannot outwit

updated as a poem on 24 Nov 2009

Empty Vessels Make The Most Noise

shot at Lucknow

within the soul of silence
you can hear his voice
but his message distorted
from the minarets of hate
as one sect another sect
bigotry hateful means employs
Muslims love killing Muslims
while the enemies of Peace
and Brotherhood
bearded behemoth
empty vessels
make the most noise
a killing for the media
boot licking newsboys
petro powered pimps
of spirituality in brand
new Rolls Royce
turbaned heads
masked faces
as envoys
using human bombs
as evil
hate filled toys

updated 24 Nov 2009


Zuljana, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

Zuljana The Steed of Imam Hussain

Dhuljanah (Arabic: ذو الجناح‎) was the horse of Husayn ibn Ali. The original name of Zuljanah was Murtajiz and he was purchased by Muhammad from an Arab named Haris. It features prominently in the traditional retelling of the story of the Battle of Karbala. It is thought to have been a white stallion. According to the legend, when Husayn was a mere child and learning to crawl, he used to go frequently to the stable of Zuljanah and look at him. Once Muhammad said that his grandson was looking curiously at the horse as if some mysterious conversation was taking place, so he asked the child if he wished to ride the horse. On being answered that he did, Muhammad ordered the horse saddled. When Husayn approached the horse, however, the horse suddenly lowered itself to the ground to allow the boy to mount him. In the battle of Karbala, Husayn used this horse and went to the battle field. According to Shia's belief, Zuljana killed 31 enemies of Husayn. After the death of Husayn, Zuljana went to the camps of Bibi Zainab and then he jumped into the Furat lake over the sorrow of Hussayn's death.

From the Fire into the frying pan

This was shot many years back close to Maulana Kalbe Jawad Saabs house at Mandi Lucknow , a Maulana highly respected and revered by the Shias of Lucknow, I did visit the Maulana once with my photographer friend Guddu, I told the Maulana that it was his father the late Kalbe Abid Saab who had read my Nikah held in Lucknow on 26 November 1977..and I felt in retrospection that it was the blessings of his erstwhile father that had kept my marriage intact in spite of the upheavals and vagaries of my marital life.,.

However a certain incident changed the equation with the city of my birth Lucknow and I decided never to visit it ever again.

These are blogs that were blank I am updating today in memory of 26/11

Memories of Lucknow may never go away, as I was bought up by my maternal grand mother Nazmi Begum who was the wife of poet Daroga Nabban Saab descendant of poet Mir Anis.

They lived at Imliwali Gali Pata Nala that was predominantly Shia and on the fringes of this locality was Subatiya Bagh a Sunni locality , this place had a lot of skirmishes and sectarian fights between both the communities, and strangely I was connected to Subatiya Bagh too, as my Paternal grand fathers relatives stayed here, my paternal grand father a Sunni by birth, Bashir Hussain had accepted Shia Islam after he married my Shia grandmother Khurshed Begum..from Vazir Ganj .

My father too continued as a Shia..and both he and his father left all contacts with the main family that were wealthy vinegar merchants. I did meet this family when I was a child briefly..but I have no contacts with them either.

Daroga Nabban Saab poet lies buried in an unmarked grave at Gufra Map Imambada Lucknow.

My paternal grand father and his wife I am told are buried at Talkotara Lucknow.

My maternal grand mother Nazmi Begum died she too lies in an unmarked grave at Rani Malka Jahan cemetery .

My parents both migrants Mumbaikars, Mohomed Shakir and Shamim Shakir of Colaba lie buried side by side at Rehmatabad Shia cemetery Mumbai.