Friday, December 31, 2010

Karbala Is An Essence of Life For The Shia

7 Moharam at Chota Naksha Chennai

I had placed these pictures in an old folder shot some time back and I discovered it this morning hence I am thus uploading the same ..these are vital pictures of 7 Moharam juloos in Chennai 2010..

The Poet Maulana Bilal Kazmi of Lucknow

Hum Hussaini Hain

islam pe ahesan hussain ibne ali hai
moula ne jlai to yeh shamma jali hai
kahe ne ko sabhi kahe te hai apne ko muslman
jnnat main wahi jaega ga jo panjatani hai.

Apko Apka Naya Sal Mubarak Ho Apko Khushiyan Mubarak Ho

naya sal
manate nahi
ham khushiyan
manate nahi
ham rangin
mehfilon main
jate nahi
hamara gham
sab ko dikhate nahi
ham hamare kale
kapde hamara matam
ghame hussain
is gham ke siwa
dusra gham manate nahi

Moharam in Chennai 2010 - A Pain That Never Ends

Lanath Bar Yazid

158,717 items / 1,254,365 views

yes we curse yazid
for his dastardly deeds
this accursed son of
a canine breed
a product
of an evil seed
on his festering body
may carrion feed
his lust for power
his greed
evil his only creed
incestuous inbreed
lanat bar yazid
on his father
his fathers father
thin legged
pot bellied
of ahle bayt
but none
could ever

I thought I had posted all the pictures I had shot of Moharam in Chennai 2010 but I discovered a memory card that I have not uploaded as yet about 600 images ...

Poets Never Sleep

in the womb of the mind
in the amniotic waters
wordlessly weep
unborn a promise to keep
positive spam
a growing heap
comatose fairly cheap
fucked future
only thing asleep

The Niqab In The Train

158,666 items / 1,253,667 views

woman conceit her ego
lies on the wall of her face
woman the most devious
creature of the human race
loves to cover her visage
more mysteriousness embrace
adding a greater dignity
mystical grace the niqab
just slits for eyes takes '
its place motionless
yet in motion it stays
poetic pulsations
propriety as praise

I Continue My Train Journey From Chennai to Mumbai

158,650 items / 1,253,549 views

This little kid was the cutest and these are tribal folks the women are pretty and you see them in Mumbai too conning people selling false tiger tooth and nails.
A lot of people fall prey to their antics I bought the false tiger nails I have given it to my jeweler to make earnings ..

The camera for me is a constant and trusted companion , it shows me new vistas create hpe where no hope existed..

Today was my first visit to Makdhoom Shah Baba Dargah at Mahim , this will be new set after I complete this lot.

There is a few images of my train trip from Mumbai to Chennai and I met the hijras at that time.. why I meet them I dont know ..hijras are different things to different people they dont arouse me in that context at all, I am ambivalent to their sexuality I like shooting them as human specimen nothing more nothing less.

I did not meet hijras at the Dhuni at the Mahim dargah, and things have changed drastically at the the Dhuni..I shall blog all my emotions when I post the pictures ..It had a very depressing effect on me..

I shot a lot of Kashmiri beggars and that saddened me all the more.. I shot some sandals and rafaees nothing exciting though.

The Pain of Being Human

158,646 items / 1,253,347 views

pjsava has sent you a message on Flickr.
Subject: A warm salute from Colombia
Date: 30th December, 2010

Dear Mr. Firoze

I guess I should began by introducing myself, my name is Pablo Salazar and by the magic of the internet I have come across your magnificent collection of photographs, let my say that they have taken my breath away since the fist time I saw them.
I must also confess that initially I was shocked and sometimes disgusted by the shear and pure boldness of your images, the pain, the blood, the suffering but above all the poverty, there is so much poverty in my country and seeing the same things in India kind of made a connection between this two places, then I began to notice the faith, the hope and the commitment of the people that you have captured in such a magnificent way, then I became a captive of your images.
As a catholic I have found very disturbing the images of the matam, in my faith self inflicted pain is not encouraged but as I looked around other things began to surface, there is no pain without release, Oh how much do I wish to have that moment of enlightenment that the followers of Hussein have in their pain, how deep must be the connection with God in that moment, for all, children and adults alike, but how?, in my life pain has been a constant, but not the physical one, the spiritual one, so here comes my question. Can you explain me how do you reach that connection with God?
In hope and solidarity from the other side of the world, may the Father of us all bless you and your family
with my warmest regards
Pablo Salazar

This is my reply ...

because i cut my head
in the memory of the
martyred grandson of the holy
prophet of islam i a shia hindu
am called a heretic because
my bleeding the pain
on my body i inflict
this bleeding makes
the sanctimonious sick
so living in glass houses '
at my house they throw
a few bricks persecuted
for being human i am
in a fix but those who tie
bombs around their waist
bomb humanity in heaven
get nubile virgins to pick
holy soldiers of god as suffix
no in islam of the fundamentalist
it is a different yardstick
so i bleed showcase my
pain as a protest against
terrorism called yazidiyat
that went against human ethics
yes i am a shia a black shroud
a bleeding fabric my pictures
graphic that good sense restricts
but truth justice are pillars
dont fall because of racist edicts

This Is Man After He Has Fucked His Natural Surroundings

I Have Just Come Back Shooting The Mahim Urus of Baba Makhdoom

Adding Friends On Facebook Is Getting Finger Fucked A Million Times Over

Thursday, December 30, 2010


Their Lessons of Life Made Me a Hindu Muslim

If My Parents Had Only Made Me A Muslim My Journey of Life Would Be Incomplete

The Trishul of Peace

158,457 items / 1,251,887 views

om sahanaavavatu sahanaubhunaktu, sahaviryam karavaavahai.
tejasvinaavadhItamastu, maa vidvishaavahai.
om shaanti shaanti shaanti.

om purnamadah purnamidam purnat purnamaduchyate, purnasya purnamaadaaya purnamevaavashishyate.

om shaanti shaantishaanti .

Om asatomaa sadgamaya, tamasomaa jyotirgamaya, mrutyormaa mrutam gamaya.

Om shaanti shaanti shaanti

om shanti om
a chant at birth
a crescendo
of well being
the heart
mind the soul
till its journey
inundating wave
after wave
as man reaches
the end a cosmic
nothing left to crave
face to face
for one last time
with vishnu shiva
burnt ego
burnt belongings
lust selfishness
he need not save
he finally gets
what he gave
a very thin
line of demarcation
between the coward
the fearless the brave
the king the jester
the knave
for he has but
one master
he himself a slave

dedicated to sukhi hontu..

My Ashura Inflicted Head Wound Day After Ashura

Wandering the Streets and Bylanes of Chennai ..

158,390 items / 1,251,812 views

All this was shot the last few hours I spent in Chennai hastily wandering the by lanes close to Dr Abbas Mirs house where I stayed, I shot people faces I shot raw emotions I shot Chennai early mornings and they were as similar to what I shoot at my own backyard Bandra Bazar Road.

I am a street photographer and life is nothing but a one way street, I shot Moharam in Chennai three sets and this is my fourth set pictures not pertaining to Moharam, pictures I shot at Dharmapuri a town in Chennai are part of this set , for convenience I will aso include pictures I shot in the trains while going to Chennai and while coming back.

Strange coincidence or my karmic fate I encountered Hijras both ways , as though telepathically they knew my travel schedule , one fell at my feet , offered me tea , and asked me if I needed any money , this was a hijra ascetic who is a devotee of Haji Malang Baba in Maharashtra a pilgrimage the hijras or I dont miss.

Among hijras you meet the good the bad and the ugly, and it takes two hands to clap, if you are good to them they are good to you, and I have no bias no issue I respect them as an integral part of our society and thereby endear them to me,because I have my own Hijra blogs where I cross blog from Flickr many know me , but I dont go out of my way to stalk them or hunt them..

I have no agenda , and photography or blogging does not run the kitchen at home, I do it to keep myself occupied and sharing my fucked world with you own not too fucked world I am sure.

My fate is conjoined with the hijras and for fuck sake dont ask me why, I meet them when I least expect them and this is a karmic occurrence , there is no escaping it for me or for them.. period.

This year as it comes to an end slithering away into nothingness , I am stuck , not for words but for certain change in my emotional climatic condition, this is perhaps the first time in my life as a blogger , I have been ensconced at home, my wife is away in Iran, religious pilgrimage and I am in between my work and my blogs.

Chennai weather spelt my doom , I have been in a very bad shape since my return, I shot the St Peter Church not to miss out on the Christian ambiance , but I gave a miss to the Urus at Makhdoom Shah Baba Mahim , I did not shoot the Police Sandal or my dear friend Sakibs sandal, my health and my over all insouciance , I have not gone to town either.

I might visit the body piercing rafaees either today or tomorrow and catch up with them at the Dhuni..Mahim Dargah.

My diabetic condition change of weather here in Mumbai are some of the reasons I guess,I have decided not to shoot Chehlum in Mumbai and shall wait for my impulses to take me to some other strange city I have never shot before.. but this again depends on my financial conditions too.

Marziya keeps me occupied , with her childs wisdom and playfulness , she has become a a very talented artist thanks to her mom and her Uncle Assad, she draws colors and sketches and creates stuff ..

Its 6.30 am I made myself a cup off black tea , and perhaps after this shall hit the sack again.

I Agree I Was A Wee Bit Strange Shia In Chennai

The Shias of Chennai are simple souls and very humble too, most of them kept inquiring abut my earrings that I duly removed on 9 Moharam.. I was totally bare on Ashura day in Chennai.

The Shias of Chennai are very hospitable they would buy me tea at a tea stall, even during Tabaruk time they would ask me if I had eaten, and by now the knew I had come from Mumbai to shoot Moharam and was a friend of Mesaq and Dr Abbas Ali Mir.

I did not sit at an Internet cafe in Chennai when I was shooting, I may have sat at one for a few minutes to check my mail on 9 Moharam.

I wish I had carried my laptop as I am still uploading pictures of Chennai, and this is my final lot than I shal post pictures of my train trip to Mumbai .. and a few pictures of my trip from Mumbai to Chennai..

Is Khoon Ke Peeche Ek Ghera Raz Hai Khamoshi Ka Kya Andaz Hai ...

hamare behte hue khoon
'aur asooon main
ek ma ki awaz hai
shiya matamdaron
par unko naz hai

Zameen Seechti Hai Hamare Badan Ka Khoon Mat Poochiye Shia Ka Moharam Main Kya Junoon

Hamare Khoon Ki Pehchan Hai Islam Zinda Hai Yeh Unka Ehsaan Hai

Hamare Khoon Ki Pehchan Hai Katra Katra Imam Par Mehrban Hai

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Dr Abbas Ali Mir Son of Late Ali Master Recites Majlis at Chota Naksha

158,126 items / 1,249,964 views

The Shia Chennais it is my humble view prefer Zakirs from Northern India but I found this son of Chennai soil Dr Abbas Ali Mir a powerful orator and to the point , his majlis made the human hearts cry.

I was lucky that when I came to Chennai I knew no one save Meesaq only through the internet , but than on my arrival I met a lot of Shias , and than I was introduced to Dr Abbas Ali Mir I stayed at his house savored his hospitality . he showed me parts of Shia Chennai.

He took me to Jigedevi Ag Matam and was a great guide and friend .. I owe a lot to him.

And because he is not net savvy I dont think he will read what I have written about him..

Thank you Dr Abbas Ali Mir .. Sada Khush Raho Mere Dost ..Best wishes to your Mother.

Dr Abbas Ali Mirs father the noted teacher Ali Master died on Eid e Ghadeer .

This Is Chennai Where Onions Lie At a Womans Feet

Hope Hindutva and the Hindu Shia

The Journey Of a Blog Never Ends

Life is a Pause Without Cause

The Best Way of Learning Photography Is To Shoot The Absurd

Khuda Ke Darwaze Par Sirf Khab Piroye Jate Hain..

158,048 items / 1,249,906 views

jo hame chaieye tha woh kisi aur ke daman main lag jate hain...

The Only Sharp Thing About Woman Is The Cage She Lives In

The Soul of a Woman is As Mystical as a Facebook Wall

I Could Not Understand Why I Spent So Much Time Here All Alone ..

was i really alone...or was it a figment of my poetry.. without words
or was it pain pulling me homeward towards a 3 year old child
a little bird what i spoke in silence perhaps she heard for a
second i thought i was not alone just going backward the reality
of my being totally blurred word to word

A Blogger Weaves Dreams Through Pictures

This Is The Exquisite Beauty Of Chennai.. Holding On To A Great Past

21,313 Views on My Flickr Photo Stream Today 27 Dec 2010

This is My 158004 Blog At Flickr .Com .. Thank You

Woman is a Puzzle Even God Could Not Solve

he created her
for the greater
happiness of man
with a godly resolve
but woman an enigma
when on mutating
as she evolved
blood swear tears
in which she was

And She Read My Future More Brilliantly Than Him....

she looked into
my eyes and told me
the path i had taken
was dark and grim
my god did not
live in a mosque
or a church
or a mandir
or a synagogue
he lived on the
street i was
close to him
my cup of sorrow
filled to the brim
in an ocean of despair
i held to a straw
as i could not swim
held to a whim

Khuda Bhi Asman Se Jab Zameen Par Dekta Hoga

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

The Beggar From Mumbai Captured in a Blog

Please Dont Disturb My Nations Cosmic Consciousness Is Asleep

make merry
as the nations sleeps
fucked from ass hole
to eternity the
common man weeps
his birth on a garbage heap
his soul mired neck deep
what he sows another man reaps
on his dead body another man leaps
blood and pus from his body seeps
as maggots insects from his
dead soul creep ...empty handed
he came empty handed he goes
his earning his property another
man keeps ...

The Faceless Indian On the Streets of Chennai

her needs
bare minimum
her flesh fetid
dead and numb
she lives on
broken crumbs
but hold on
she is free
under nobody's
thumb though
they call her a beggar
also a street scum
her fate stretched
out like the face of a
beleaguered beaten drum
the faceless indian
to her cosmic fate
surrenders and succumbs
from here to kingdom come

So Now You Know Why I Call Myself a Hindu Shia..

I pay respect to the land where I live where I was born where I will die..

What Will Happen To Our Raja You Think ?

why do the
northern people
create such a stink
our beloved raja
was doing the right thing
he is a magician
who created wealth
for others out of nothing
oh his opponents are
jealous so stones
they sling
oh only if he had
given them something
he would have not
lost his power
above all things
our raja a holy saint
an angel with wings
how they torture him
wanting him to sing
matrix of corruption
is not the only evil thing
now maybe that
radia woman
was a an accidental
fling bad luck
to our raja she
did bring
a conspiracy they say
there must be
a hidden hand
master of the ring
hope humanity
minus the bling
politics is a pendulum
both sides it swings
what goes down
up it will spring
singh is king/

Life is a Clothesline Where Hopes Are Hung To Dry

To Ray Lucero Lover of Humanity -Song of Man

Good Morning! Firoze

Here is a poem that is not mine, but one that speaks to my heart.
Ray Lucero


I was here from the moment of the

Beginning, and here I am still. And

I shall remain here until the end

Of the world, for there is no

Ending to my grief-stricken being.

I roamed the infinite sky, and

Soared in the ideal world, and

Floated through the firmament. But

Here I am, prisoner of measurement.

I heard the teachings of Confucius;

I listened to Brahma’s wisdom;

I sat by Buddha under the Tree of Knowledge.

Yet here am I, existing with ignorance

And heresy.

I was on Sinai when Jehovah approached Moses;

I saw the Nazarene’s miracles at the Jordan;

I was in Medina when Mohammed visited.

Yet here I am, prisoner of bewilderment.

Then I witnessed the might of Babylon;

I learned the glory of Egypt;

I viewed the warring greatness of Rome.

Yet my earlier teachings showed the

Weakness and sorrow of those achievements.

I conversed with the magicians of Ain Dour;

I debated with the priests of Assyria;

I gleaned depth from the prophets of Palestine.

Yet, I am still seeking the truth.

I gathered wisdom from quiet India;

I probed the antiquity of Arabia;

I heard all that can be heard.

Yet, my heart is deaf and blind.

I suffered at the hands of despotic rulers;

I suffered slavery under insane invaders;

I suffered hunger imposed by tyranny;

Yet, I still possess some inner power

With which I struggle to greet each day.

My mind is filled, but my heart is empty;

My body is old, but my heart is an infant.

Perhaps in youth my heart will grow, but I

Pray to grow old and reach the moment of

My return to God. Only then will my heart fill!

I was here from the moment of the

Beginning, and here I am still. And

I shall remain here until the end

Of the world, for there is no

Ending to my grief-stricken being.

Kahlil Gibran

Zinda Rahe

Zinda Rahe, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

zinda rahe
toh agle baras
hum chennai
gar chal base
to moharam
in chennai
ab zindagi bhar
internet par dekh
bib zehra ke ansu
phir yad ayenge
karbala aur ashura
dilasa dilayenge