Thursday, November 26, 2009

Politics Going to The Dogs

a parliament of fools
giving birth to frogs
the newspaper
dies the next morning
long live its soul
in a blog
politics going
to the dogs
on the banks
of despair
the poor mans body
burning on the logs

The Living Dead of Lucknow

a luck badly fucked and how

Leaving Mumbai Without Love

if he was a terrorist
if he was a foreigner
he could bear
the treatment
that he got
in a political game
muscle flexing politics
he was caught
cursing his bhaiyya lot
going back empty handed
to his hometown
in uttar pradesh to rot
ajmal kasab
treated with kid gloves
for the innocent people
he shot
a twist in the story
a filmi plot
all those 'who died
the fucked system says
so what?
its there destiny
they got
what they got
but till the end
bravely they fought
posthumously awarded
as an after thought

Masjid and The Cow

two facets
of a religiosity
in Lucknow
of an Indian bough
faith that moves
mountains somehow
the Muslim prays within
the Hindu to a Holy Cow
each in his own way
a spiritual field ploughs

Sarlabai..travelling beggar lady

it was lalujee
now mamtaji
they all come and go
as she ticketless begs
from one train to another
to and fro
as the caravan of life
from one station to another
in her eyes
the pain of living shows
caught on the canvas
of a photoblogger it froze
walking the tightrope
of old age on her tiny toes
waiting for the maker
her life's account close
the last journey
the ultimate repose

dedicated to nabina das

Barefeet Blogger from Mumbai in Lucknow

Shooting The Soul of a Street Photographer

do you need a camera
to shoot the soul
of a street photographer
I ask
from the viewfinder
of his mind
he took my
entire life's mission
to task
a vintage wine
facing a new flask
pictures that
as a poet
the reader
must unmask

Muslim Man

Muslim Man, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

with my camera
the life of a muslim man
i tried to pan
a blur my pictorial mind
could not scan
an indian muslim
so very different
from the afghan
a single religiosity
as particles
in a dust pan
all held
together by the power
of allah
ahle bayt and the koran

Searching for Virgins in Paradise

poor muslim
beggar woman
from the perdition
of her fate
none can save
born in captivity
a human slave
for self respect
dignity she does crave
to add to her shame
a few coins is what
they gave
the jehadis
kill bomb
on a rampage
a pin drop silence
no shock waves
the jehadis
for virgins in paradise
while she searches
for her unmarked grave
a drop of a tear
on the soul of humanity
as a good Muslim
her oppressors
she forgave
even a coward
was gifted
with the soul
of the brave
as it lashes
the consciousness
wave after wave