Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Following The Foot Prints of Sorrow

we met yesterday
shared memories
lent rented
borrowed
now in retrospection
she in her corner
me in mine
following
the foot prints
of sorrow

Leaping in Love

a gravitational pull
what was once empty
now half full
a morsel
mouthful
blah blah
black sheep
three bags full
vying for her
attention
her handful

Media Sometimes Tramples the Soul of a Blogger

A few media people with hot shot cameras think only they have the original monopoly are Gods chosen ones to shoot pictures , some of them look upon us photo bloggers with disdain , I have seen their attitude their professional conceit and arrogance and with them around which newspaper editor will ever publish a picture shot by a photo blogger and that is the crux , I dont pimp my pictures for newspapers but yet my pictures are shot as poetry provided you read and appreciate poetry.

And will the newspapers ever write about a photo blogger who has touched the core of Humanity by just showing you the under belly of pain , all exclusively Made in India.


And than having a Times of India Press Card even St Peter will open the Gates of Heaven..for free no money under the table as he would demand from a photo blogger in time of spiritual recession .

A Mumbai Mirror Press Card might allow you to shoot a few comely virgins he has kept aside for Osama Bin Laden and others.

These are the only two papers that come to my house I cannot tell you about those that my family does not read.

And Indi Bloggers still think what a person posts at Flickr can never be considered a Blog. Ha Ha

And this is my 119893 blog at Flickr in less than 3 years.

Climbing Down Haji Malang

When I say climbing down , I mean my barefeet climb downhill ,these kids are going up to the Holy Shrine a long long trek.. and this is the beginning of surrender to a spirituality with nature all around you , no hate no animosity no bigotry no spiritual conceit or arrogance no Mullah diatribe , yes I am an Indian Muslim I read the wordless scripture of Peace.

I am not a Sufi adherent , but does it matter I believe in any religion that makes me Human.
I am a Shia spiritually content with the roots of my Faith that grew as a seed in my Mothers Womb.

I am a poet I seek love ,love that epitomizes my thirst of Life, I was shown an apparition without physicality , and I succumbed she is she is not, I see her you cant..
yes delving with the Malangs is not for the weak hearted..I shall overcome the magic cast on me and break through the net of my captivity..

Yes Haji Malang is reading the Magus and reliving it too .. a beginning that never ends , an end that rewrites a new chapter on my soul..

Main Shayar to Nahi
Magar aye Hasin Jab se dekha tujhko
Shairi Agayi

This is Haji Malang love longing and pain.. yes climbing down was as reinvigorating as climbing up...and the magic spell lingers on with the fragrance of her spirit and form..yes falling in love with a spirit no human form is what my poetry is all about..

And Kalki Subramaniam my transgender friend at Facebook wont know it at all , the empty kisses on the pillow,the strands of her sliver hair, the musky smell of death , her shadow on my breath , yes being captive and still being free ..she wants me to come back to Haji Malang complete the circle of her deviousness I refuse..she breaches my dreams overpowering me and I burn like a fearless candle in the Wind..

Now I search for the Malang.. he is the only one who exists and knows it all he wrote the script and he has to change it before it changes me ...so Kalki who wrote about loving a trans gender experiencing a new sensuality and physicality ,I place this as a reply to her Note at Facebook...

Her Facebook Note is worth a read than read my blog and search for the silken thread connecting your own angst and anguish.

Love and the Sacrificial Goat

both in the same boat
only hope keeps
them afloat
thodi mar thodi chot
aur unke
surkile hont
falling in love
DONT

Dedicated to Monsoon Lover Sudip Da

Chemistry of Childhood Chaos

Thank You Holy Saint

you gave me hope
a reason to live
you were generous
i have no complaint
thank you holy saint
born of a blemish
nothing can taint
incomplete work of art
a body without soul
a brush some paint


to dr robi ludwig

and I am crying .. yes my house is in mourning as my Imam leaves for Karbala today/

Fucked Forever

falling in love
never
never
love
that makes a fool
even of those
who are clever
an empty shadow
of a woman we revere
leprous longings
to have her
or not to have her

A Tiger In a Leopards Lair

The Headless Blog Bare Assed Barefeet

Yeh Sach Hai Main Tumhe Chahta Hoon

lab pe atii hai bat
kehte hue ghabrata hoon
khuda ke darbar
main tumhara nam
girgirata hoon
han yeh such hai
main tumhe
chahta hoon
tum kya jano
yeh fariyad
main khuda ko
sunata hoon
tumhe hasil
karne ki khaish
main apne ap
ko bhul jata hoon
yeh sach hai main
tumhe chahta hoon
dabe pair khali hath
khuda ke ghar se laut
ata hoon
aj nahi to kal
tum meri hogi
yeh jhuta dilasa
apne dil ko
sunata hoon
lab pe ati hai bat
main sharma
jata hoon
yeh sach hai
main tumhe
chahta hoon

The Gemstone Man and His Wife

I have kept my hijra pictures of Gopal Hajis sandal on hold , and I am finally completing my last lot of Haji Malang pictures about 400 or so shot around the Shrine and a few pictures of Shabbo Bhais son Salman, from Chor Bazar , this family owns the Dhuni which is called Ahmed Ghadiali Chowk. This also includes pictures of my climb down the Malangad mountains barefeet and pictures I shot on the way that I include as street photography.

I have been busy with work and have been away from my computer for the longest time but my uploading continues ...also the titles and description are missing on my uploaded pictures.

The gemstone man and his wife move from one urus to the next selling their wares and business was not to good..they know me since a very long time.