Sunday, February 28, 2010

Jean- Marc El Gekko Arrives In Mumbai

Jean Marc once known as Drunken Gekko at Buzznet where my first blogs were born has come to Mumbai for the first time .

He called me up and I went to see him at his hotel at a seaface in Mumbai..

It was a memorable meeting with one of the most creative photographers in the world, and Jean Marc is a standard of ones aspirations to be a good photographer too.

At Buzznet it was Yorrik who discovered me but it was Drunken Gekko who kept my blogs alive with his continued patronage , and his encouraging comments .

He moved from Buzznet to Flickr and I followed him soon..we have thus been internet friends for 6 years or more.

He is a French Man based in Reunion.

His brother Olivier too was a good friend at Buzznet but that was a long time back..

From his hotel I took him for black tea at Mathura Dairy Churchgate .

There was so much to learn from this wise man and prolific photographer master of post production techniques too.

I took Jean Marc to my late mothers house at Strand Cinema Colaba , he met my brothers and from there I took him for dinner to Martins Goan Restaurant a land mark as famous as Cafe Leopold for backpackers.

As he was not carrying his camera and I always have one on my person I shot these pictures ,I could have posted them last night , but I goofed pictures were shot on Raw and this is the camera that another good friend Dr Glenn Losack sent me as a gift with the Raw settings I was using it for the first time..and I was not sure how to convert them to JPEG..

So I am an amateur after all, my son helped me do the needful..this afternoon.

So we both Jean Marc and I shine in the drabness of a flash lit background of my late mothers house at 3 Mohini Mansions .

I must confess I was to collect my grand daughter Marziya Shakir from Dadar , as she was arriving from Lucknow I gave it a miss as I felt I did not want to be a spoke when Marziya meets her Dad , he was going to the station to collect her too.

Fom Martin Goan restaurant I dropped Jean Marc to his hotel , took a local train back to Bandra from Churchgate .

The train ride was real bad the train was packed because of Holi , and the only joy was reaching home and Marziya jumped into my arms.

And by late late night an incident made me remove my pictorial presence completely from Facebook..And perhaps this decision a very painful one might be a blessing in disguise , I am not very good at social networking or chat I used Facebook to promote my street and Hijra blogs including the religious genre of the other subjects I shoot..
It was good till it lasted and my leaving Facebook is a personal decision , nothing to do with my Facebook friends or Facebook management..

Sucked in Forever

sucked in forever
into a toilet
of remorse
life a river
of pain
gong off
her heart
the source
of my sorrow
no other
thy name
marriage and divorce
a love
the silence
of her soul
she wont
a white horse

Tears of Silence

120,576 items / 789,172 views

a photo stream of pain
frozen tears of silence
as it flows into
an ocean of despair
beyond the valley
of my mind
god alone knows
a poet shooting
pictures and prose
bare feet
in colorful clothes
a muse who
has shut her doors
watching his pain
through half open
lost moments
misty memories
a mountains echo
now a recluse
in captivity
a seedling
into battered
plant grows
each other
on the branches
of remorse
star crossed lovers
the myna and the crow

A Poet in Seep Shit

120,574 items / 788,650 views

For Personal Reasons beyond my Control and not because of Facebook or anyone of you I move out of Facebook completely .. Thanks for your Friendship youtr love your comments I will be only posting my stuff at Flickr..I have not deactivated my Facebook account yet..I have almost Lost it.. Firoze Shakir

Thank you Meta Verse I am in Deep Shit,

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Love is a Weapon With a Razors Edge

it cuts your heart
your soul
your balls
with ease
love is a weapon
with a razors edge
women love
to use and tease
if you please
use it artistically
like a butcher
on your testicular
wearing nothing
but a chemise
they bring you
down on your knees
love an emotion
you cant buy or sell
it is given by woman
to man
on lease
even with eyes
she sees
till she
takes another one in
you are history
woman a whore
a goddess
a complete mystery

Lab Pe Ata Hi Ek Bat Kehte Hue Ghabrata Hoon

lab pe ati hai ek bat
kehte hue ghabrata hoon
apni kismet se teri
taqdeer ko azmata hoon
teri khushiyon se
door chala jata hoon
yeh sach hai
tu kisi aur ki hai
main tujhe chahta hoon
main daw par
apni zindagi lagata hoon
lab pe ati hai bat
kehte hue ghabrata hoon
though I have deleted her
from my consciousness
wohi poem main bar bar
apne dil aur dimag ko
sunata hoon

Molten Tears of Pain

the path of pain
it hits your soul
before it hits your
mind heart or brain
holding her parched flesh
from one end of despair
to remorse by a karmic chain
yes I shoot beggars
they shoot me without eyes
for we are both products
of karmic pain
her pain is greater than mine
my pain goes away her pain
lives all over again
her name is Maria
she clings to Jesus
I live through Hussain
boran road bandra
is her den
shot by firoze
once shot by Glenn
she is marked by life
death cant shoot her

to kaushik dutta

My Room of Sorrow

the only
thing that does not sleep
is my comp when darkness
creeps through
internet wires
into my soul it peeps
my room of sorrow
pain as treasure
i cherish and keep
neighbors envy
family's black sheep
poetizing pictures
of life
on a garbage heap

Grapes Are Sour

though i have
deleted her from
i keep thinking of her
every minute every hour
on my mind she flowers
grapes are sour
hungry I devour

I Cannot Let Her Go

120,521 items / 787,680 views

I have deleted her
from my consciousness
I cannot let her go
she is the power of my poetry
through her my poetic soul flows
even after loving her so much
she took in another man
showed me the door
she has changed
she is no more
what she was before
wherever she went
I kissed the floor
I have deleted her
from my consciousness
I love her hardcore
trying to reach her
on the other side
of the shore
will she or will she
not respond
I am not so sure
love a disease
for which even
god has no cure

I Have Gone Into Hiding

120,520 items / 787,551 views

i have decided
never to fall in love
ever again
stiletto trampled heart
my crushed word
infested brain
in one stroke
both the pillars
of my fragmented
poetic genius
she has slain
no i tried
i could not find 'love
down her drain
a thought
that causes me
endless pain
my loss
another mans gain
the same wealthy guy
with a horny
leg fucking
Great Dane
her lover
she has
written me off
i have gone
into hiding
loves labor lost
poetic efforts
all in vain

Searching For Love

120,519 items / 787,545 views

We all fall in love sometime or the other but the poet needs to be in love all times , for the survival of his pedestrian verse in my case , bringing alive emotions from the catacombs of my word clustered head.

I am a married man should not be an excuse for not falling in love with women , my love for a woman is Sufi oriented less fleshy more mindless spiritual...I find love but lose it too, and searching for love in a toilet drain is what this poem for a heartless woman I met and parted ..she has flushed all poetic feelings and here I am giving it a last try to retrieve my poetic self respect ,and entering the narrow parth within the toilet bowl, is entering ones own mind..

searching for love
that she flushed in anger
my woman a heartless heart
a careless brain
seeking for hope
happiness that lies
in the abyss of my mind
down the drain
falling in love
net loss no gain
a world of passion
hitched to poetic pain
on my wretched soul
purple haze acid rain
she calls me insane
she loves another person
more wealthy a bachelor
home car and a pet Great Dane
she sees no future with
unpublished poet an unknown
no funds or future to sustain
she is human but shrewish humane
I am her pet poodle on her chain
though I have deleted her from
my consciousness she enters my mind
again and again and again
memories and membrane
lost illusions in a one way lane

Lab Pe Athi Hai Ek Bat Kehte Hue Ghabrata Hoon

lab pe ati hai ek bat kehte hue ghabrata hoon
jab woh rooth jati hai main unhe palkon pe bhita tha hoon
yeh bat aur hai woh kisi aur ko chahti hai
main use chahta hoon bar bar main
apna hale dil berukhi main deewaron
ko sunata hoon although
i have deleted her from my consciousness
ek bar phir unse milne ka hausla
badata hoon
lab pe ati haii ek bat kehte hue ghabrata hoon
andhere main
sheeshe ke samne apne ap ko sunata hoon

and this is to a woman who spurns my poetic soul for the body of another man...

love means never having to say sorry for the poems you write

Lab Pe Athi Hai Ek Bat Kehte Hue Ghabrata Hoon

ab pe ati hai bat kehte hue ghabrata hoon
jab jab woh unchai se girti hai use bachata hoon
yeh bat aur hai ke main use chahta hoon
wo aur kisiko chahti hai
main uska number lagata hoon
woh kisi aur ka number lagati hai
meri lash ko bhulaka kar
wo kisi aur pe ansu bahati hai
yeh bat sach hai woh mujhse jyada
kisi aur ko chahti hai
apni khamoshi see isi tarah
mujhe satati hai
that I have deleted her
from my consciousness
yeh bat bhi uski yad dilati hai
jhute dilase mujhe dekar
woh uske gun gati hai

this poem is written with a woman in mind..she has spurned my poetry for another mans poem..

Hijra Beauties at Haji Malang

Ritu Hijra in Bloom

The Captain of The Ship

This was a blank post I now add a poem to a devotee of Bam Bam Bholenath like me Director Saab Ashok Tyagi of Don Ke Bad Kaun

he is the captain of the ship
a beacon of light with
firm directorial grip
his faith friendship
he uses love instead
of a whip
like me a lover of beauty
he too has seen failure

a slip
between love
her bounteous lips
the pendulous shake
of her bounteous hips
mind over matter
as a poem trips
a nasha my soul drips
a heart beat skips
my soul
more than her soul rips
in her spectral light
my naked soul strips
on my testicular fortitude
the ungrateful
woman I love
uses the bull whip
her flesh my flesh
a strange kinship

And I also dedicate this poem to the greatest actor on Earth Mr Rajesh his feat in all humility..

Ritu Hijra In Bloom

I am back at my Flickr, at my Hijras at Haji Malang 2010 set , I had completed posting the pictures totally 1374, but as I was not in the best frame of mind I have not added detail or description and titles on them..

And I am sheer lazy to do the needful and out of these 1374 pictures I have just added a few to my Hijra eunuch blogs and a few to my Blogspot sites and my favorite haunt Facebook.. and she has no time to access her account to see what I have written about her my poetic love pangs , a poet needs love to poetize pictures he shot on the soul of his frail human consciousness...

I know a lot of people in love with hijras and happily married , I know women who have married men who are cross dressers but most of them live happily ever after ..
I love women , because women gives you a Nasha no hijra can give.. I cannot imagine Marc Anthony falling in love with a hijra instead of Cleopatra..

I have met a lot of married men happily married and who love banging hijras , but do it on the sly..I knew a guy a hotelier who needed hijras as man needs air to breathe..he was hanging around all the hijra joints even Kamatipura Hjra Gully No1..

I dont blame them love is such a powerful emotion if Mary Magdalene could fall in love with Jesus than what more can one say about Love.

And whatever intolerance or bigotry in India I almost puked thinking that MF Hussain Saab wants to take Qatari citizenship...I mean one can understand USA , Canada UK but a place like Qatar that does know art from its ears to its elbow,,,

Anyway thats not part of my menu..I leave it to India uncut and other Blogspot Bloggers.

My poison is Hijras , Love Street photography and pedestrian Verse ..and I dont think 200 pictures in an album can hold the soul of the barefeet blogger of Mumbai at Facebook.

120,518 items / 786,845 views this is my current position as a Flickr Pro member.

And I goofed the Hijra dance function of a Bandra Bazar boys wedding was last night , I forgot all about it and I met the new bridegroom he said Reshma Hijra of Lal Mitti who performed last night missed me the most.

So this hijra description work I shall do it in my stride and depends on the creative juices my brain excretes.. oops secretes.. ha ha ha

Friday, February 26, 2010

Two Sacrificial Goats

on the altar of love
by cut throats
in a world of
as foot notes
a pain
our misery
in the gutter
of life's poetry
our fucked
future floats

My Poetic Tryst With Love

mere sare zewar
sab le gayee woh
raste pe is ashik
ko bitha gayi woh
hale dil ab kya sunaoo
kisi aur ki ho gayo woh
no jane kis duniya
main jake kho
gayi woh
my tryst with love
blow after blow
my flesh
my soul
dead by her
my fate
a shut door
shut window
just a beggars bowl
my tears
nothing else
to show
a silence
her echo

You Shoot Pictures I Shoot a Lifetime of Hijra Emotions

Only Poets Shoot Hijras Like Poems

Yes I shoot the differently ... through the hospitable humility of a beggar soul..I dont get pictures I get a life time of Hijra eternity.

I shoot hijras with the third eye of Shiva embedded in my camera lens.

The Hijra Jogan at The Traffic Signal Of Life

120,514 items / 786,223 views

I shot these pictures on my visit to a film production office.

She is a Hijra Jogan her beloved is not Man but the Lord she has surrendered her soul to him keeping nothing behind , her Lord was kind, to appease the lord her manly body she redefined ,her crass human mans body she refined , every move to the lord like love letters messages with tears underlined ..

The Hijra Jogan a beautiful body beautiful mind two parts of love equally entwined and in the deep crevices of her passion her pain her anguish her angst the Lord enshrined.

Only an androgynous god this metaphoric mystifying moment bind ,god made man, and man not satisfied with woman the hijra designed ..a sexuality ying yang that unwinds ...

I dedicate this to Kaki Subramaniam...the hjra art of love making tantric transcendental releasing of the kundalini reptilian loved and was offered to me on a silver platter I politely declined .

I am a poet I poetize hijras through the eye of Shiva a job I was assigned ardh nari nareshwar another name of mankind..a poet photographer uniquely on the face of Flickr and Facebook combined.

Sartorial Serendipity Streamlined.

Jesus and Me

a mortal man
of another man
who too was
by mans
pride and vanity
now imprisoned
for life behind a cage
a punishment
in exchange of his piety
this word belongs
to the politically
the poor
children of a
lesser god
seeking Peace
the soul of a deity

The Cripple

on the legs
of a frog
she hops
sees a
rushing car
she stops
her life
a non stop
whirling top
lights action
as backdrop

God is Hooked To Facebook Too

120,504 items / 785,723 views

all night
a heady brew
so very new
to mark zuckerburg
the whizkid
his motley crew
god is hooked
to facebook too
all the saints
gods friends
a few he blocked
it is quite true
god gets fed
up of fucked
but than
rich kids
do need
gods two
special friends
a barefeet blogger
an American Jew
both showing
his world of pain
socketless eyes
blood gore
on the search menu
god who goes
by all names
you call him
allah yahweh
brahma vishnu
and you can add him
from my friends list
no issue

to marcel duvoix

Jesus is Reluctant To Come Back

jesus is reluctant
to come back
in a world
gone to seed
where man
now superman
absolute power wields
man on the flesh
of man feeds
all around
death devastation
killing fields
using innocent
women children
as shields
peace enslaved
the hand maiden
of war
to greed
the sou of man
to Satan yields

jesus christ at facebook
through weeping
wind shields

Hum Ap Aur Woh

some emotions come
some emotions come and go
into a cosmic river of pain
excess baggage of life
we have to throw
like a candle
that time will seduce
swiftly blow outgrow
weeded out woe
walking barefeet on fire
walking barefeet on snow
to and fro high and low
a pain you cant feel
you will never know

A Barefeet Blogger Reminisces

120,477 items / 785,545 views

distorted dreams
his future kisses
hits and misses
on the soul
of his poetry
her attitude pisses
serpentine soliloquy
her silence her hisses

I Have Finally Deleted Her From My Consciousness

my sanity in total mess
the lady who I thought
was my princess
breached my dreams
in a light blue dress
you have rightly guessed
I have finally deleted her
from the poetry of my life
from my consciousness
her carbonized steel heart
no more my souls address
no more rising blood sugar
no more pressure
no more stress
a failed romance
how do I express
a meeting of two souls
I did not need to undress
through the human frailty
of this human blog
I confess
I will never fall in love
with someone who
in the heart of another man
lies possessed
haji malang
this pilgrims progress
a story of fleshy failure
spiritual success
my broken beggars bowl
her greedy largess

Yeh Sach Hai Ke Main Mussalman Hoon

main hindu bhi hoon
main christian bhi hoon
ap jo samjhe main
ek jeeta jagta nishan hoon
main jo kuch bhi hoon
main insan hoon
yeh sach hai
ke main musalman hoon
desh par mar mitne wala
iman hoon
apki tarah
main bhi kuch baton
se pareshan hoon

Urinating on The Soul of Humanity

woh peekay
gutter main leta tha
thodi door uska beta
ek dukan ke pas
miskin baitha tha
ankh main ansu
kanpta tha
kuch aitha tha
muflisi ka alam
ghar main
bujhaa choola
man ki khiskiyan
chup chap sehta that
bap ka pishab
zindagi ki nali
main behta tha
kisika gham
kisi ke gham
main rehta tha
kuch na kahtey hue
kuch kehta tha

Thursday, February 25, 2010

The Sculpted Veil of Pain

sculpted soul
of a beggar
muslim woman
sculpted soul in a veil
her sorrow
her tale
slaughtering bakras
year after year
year after year
her pain prevails
her soul wails
treated like
bonded labor
her agony in
poetic detail
I shoot
them every Friday
hope crucified
to a nail
forever and ever
by macho man
the quintessential
Muslim male
Muslim society
with blinkers
on its eyes
watches all this
after all she is nothing
just a commodity
The Muslim female

To Nabila Hashmi and Spogmay Khan my Facebook friends my pictures incomplete without their likes and comments.. Peace

If You Only Loved Me

if you only loved me
the way I love you
you wold know what I feel
my love made of flesh and blood
caressing your heart of
carbonized steel
haughty woman
you trample emotions
under your stiletto heel
what you are you conceal
love for you is no big deal
a hurt only you can heal
if you can relive my pain
my ordeal
you give a beggar alms
back from his beggars
bowl you steal
be human for once
my love my ideal

brick on a
facebook wall
your name
I cannot reveal
layers and layers
of poetic pain
I unpeel

Metaphoric Mysticism

120,403 items / 784,920 views'

seeing pain
suffering remorse
on a clothesline
like fish kept
to be dried
no one but self
to confide
in the shell of her
sorrow she
loves to hide
stolen humility
at the feet of
her pride
on facebook
out of mind
out of sight
of her flight
the light
at the end
of her tunnel
the other side
of midnight

Searching For Her In The Maze of My Mind

she sees me
she sees me not
she has gone blind
searching for her
in the maze of my mind
only her shadows
her footsteps
nothing else I find
pain passion
poetry of life
all entwined
a chapter
of my life
on the sands
of destiny
I leave behind

Thank You Kakaji..

Mr Rajesh Khanna and Me

God is a Photographer Too

god is a photographer too
pictures of happiness
pictures of gloom for you
from the old
he digitally brings
out the new
where there is despair
he brings out hope
out of the blue
yes I shoot beggars
god shoots me too
I show his world
without distorting truth
a road side view
perhaps you living
in glass houses
throwing stones
at others
luckily a stone
did not hit you
of my world
the underbelly of pain
fuck you have no clue
remorse as tears
on the soul of Humanity
as it grew and grew and grew

Mohabat Tere Nam Par Rona Aya

main unko chahta hoon
was kisi aur ko chahti hain
main apna hale dil sunana
chahta hoon
woh uska hale dil sunati hain
aur beech bhaavar main
aakar mere dil ki dastan
adhuri reh jati hai
ek tinke ke sahare par
zindagi yoonhi
guzar jati hai

Ghulam e Ali

120,349 items / 784,599 views

Ghulam e Ali

Baghair Hubb-E-Ali Mud'daa-A Nahi Milta
Ibadaton Ka Bhi Hargiz Sila Nahi Milta
Khuda Ke Bando Suno Ghour Say Khuda Ki Qasam
Jisay Ali Nahi Miltay Usay Khuda Nahi Milta

Yes my black sartorial silhouette is a thing of the past, two months eight days I strictly wore black or tiger prints , no other color at all.

Yesterday we celebrated Eid e Zehra at home and wife hails fom Lucknow so it was Gul Gule.. and yo must try out this happy Shia time delicacy..

I was busy at work with a very important film shoot , and this picture was shot by my shop help ..he shoots me better than anyone else no he does not know the ABC of photography.

Shah E Mardaan E Ali
La Fata Illa Ali
Shair E Yazdaan Ali Ali
Haq Ali Ali Maula Ali Ali..

The Hijra Romance

give her
another chance
on the soul
of humanity
a deathly dance
you just
missed it
by a glance

The Best of Laxmi Narayan Tripathi

Any one can shoot Laxmi Narayan Tripathi , they maybe ace photographers no doubt as shooting Laxmi is an experience of life time, but I shoot Laxmi better than all of them , I say this without professional conceit I shoot her from the inner depth of my soul, I shoot Laxmi as a goddess and need I say more.. she knows it and my God knows it too..

With all the pictures I have shot of Laxmi Narayan Tripathi I could have a gallery full of her various moods and emotions.

And Laxmi keeps me at arms length , people who have access to her as photographers Anita Khemka or Marc de Clercq are much luckier than me as they live and breathe Laxmi I dont get that kind of access but I manage and I am manacled to my tailoring work and its my free time that gets me all this and more.

The Headless Blogger of Mumbai

I had given my camera to a studio guy who was shooting this part of the event but he did not know how to use a digital SLR and this was the biggest studio at Haji Malang.

He shot what he saw ..the headless blogger of Mumbai and it is first time I dont have any pictures with Laxmi of Haji Malang Urus 2010.

the headless blogger of mumbai
to shoot him completely the
photographer was shy
fragmented poetic genius
his detractors love to bheja fry
on the wings of a blog
he learns to fly
religiosity on the river sigh
eyes that cry..seeking love
in a pigsty beneath his feet
a bare sole lies
cuts wounds bruises
kiss his feet goodbye

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Mona and Nandini Eunuch Children

120,319 items / 783,521 views

With this picture I complete my Hijras at Haji Malang 2010 series at Flickr, I have thus posted 1380 hijra pictures , some are of the Hijra Bawa I will include here from Haji Malang Urus 2010 series.

Had I stayed over and shot the Sultan Shah Babas Urus at Haji Malang I would have definitely got a lot more photos but there comes a time when you have to stop.

I love these eunuch kids and there is another child beauty I shot last year Jyoti the child eunuch she was not here this time..Jyoti is a rare vulnerable fragile hijra child unlike these two , both Mona and Nandini are from rich hijra parentage but street smart you dont mess with them they have a lot of attitude and both their foster parents Gopal Haji and Babita Hijra love them dearly.

These two are the Hijra community's lucky talisman.

Hijras Shoot Me Much Before I Shoot Them

with their body language of love
they loot me much before I loot them

Lab Pe Ati Hai Ek Bat Kehte Hue Ghabrata Hoon

unki chaukat par
apna sar jhukata hoon
lab pe ati hai bat
kehte hue ghabrata hoon
ke dilon jan
se main unko chahta hoon
unke gham main apna gham
bhool jata hoon unke kanon
main yeh bat kehte hue
reh jata hoon
wo kisi aur aur ko chahti hain
main unko chahta hoon


Navi, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

ke katilon
pe thukte
hain hum
to the
of the drum
merriment frolic
till the soul
goes numb
of re awakening
of the shia soul
in this album
shah ast hussain
badshah ast hussain
our spiritual anthem

A Hijra is Born

a rose bud
at the mercy
of a spiked thorn
her lost childhood
her lost dreams
all gone
hijra life
a curse
a blasphemy
of scorn
it hurts
when hijras
as humans
are used abused
as porn
the birth of a book
chapters all torn

to manish gaekwad
colors and crayon

Nandini The Child Eunuch Shoots

a hijra plant of pain
born without roots
given away
to the hijras
the night
she was born
her biological
hardcore brutes
being born a hijra
is a stigma
in fucked Indian society
blame the system
our soul
our self respect loots
its about religion
about politics
about money
for the hijras
it is gallis
chapals and boots
who cares a fuck
for child hijras
who needs Truth
lies our pretentious
state of living suits
hate bigotry intolerance
parochial division of a nation
on language caste color creed
the soul of a weeping
mother India pollutes

to a hijra child
indomitable hijra society
this poem as tribute