the hijra tired
after a fruitless
leather hunt
in the circle
of confusion
searching
for the elusive
exclusive
reclusive
missing cunt
as a poem
a cry
a sigh
that might
sound
very blunt
a hijra
half man
half woman
androgynous
amorphous
anomaly
via castration
via penectomy
the unknown hole
from its casement
of a new awakening
tried to confront
cursed forever
more beautiful
but wont get
pregnant
a missing womb
of misfortune
homeless
vacant
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Hijra and the Missing Cunt
I Tried but I Failed
the hot
burning
furnace
of her desire
i tried
to touch it
but i failed
on the mound
of her Venus
a part
of me nailed
it screamed
it wailed
cursing the day
this pussy
it tailed
poetic moment
on the soul
of her privacy
he impaled
half outside
half within
cosmically
jailed
curtailed
forever
fucked
blackmailed
a cybernetic
curiosity
a lovers tale
luckily
on my facebook
friends list
she is a missing
thumbnail
Fucked Forever
his woman
has runaway
again causing him
eternal pain fucking
his happiness
her heart his brain
caught on a road
of despair between
the gutter and the drain
he curses the day
he fell in love with her
his fucked poetic
dilemma his fucked
pea brain
although
he has deleted
her from
his fucked
consciousness
she hounds stalks him
driving him cosmically
insane many a times
he thought
of slitting
his wrists
giving head to a
running train
throwing himself
from the 45 floor
but the permission
for the terrace key
he could
not obtain
memories
that lash
his souls
bleeding
membrane
one mans loss
is another mans gain
hiss balls manacled to
misfortune his fucked
fate enchained
blow after blow
on his distempered ass
she rained
Slumdog Caterers of Bandra
There are some big names doing great business supplying food for parties events and feast days working out from the slums of Bandra , the food you see being made ready is for a small function at our house the caterer Ikbal , we had ordered chicken birryani , he is a bit expensive than the rest of the caterers around Bandra West , but his food is delicious well cooked , he mostly caters to the Agha Khani Jamat , rich Shias and private parties.
Even some restaurants get their biryani done by him.. as he is on my way to work I have a good equation with him.
Though I consider my wife and my daughter in laws far better cooks, they make fabulous stuff, my elder daughter in law from Lucknow s good and her Jackfruit curry masala is out of this world.
My younger daughter in law one makes fusion food and hails from Mumbai so we have a spectrum of cuisine at our house.She is good with Hyderabadi cuisine too...her khichda is the best and even the paya curry that she makes sometimes.
Loban Man of Bandra
His job is is to smoke out evil from your shop your house and your soul..
purify you cleanse you make you whole ...using loban and charcoal
held delicately in a metal bowl wandering the streets of despair
the loban man on stroll..for a few coins you give him
he is on gods payroll...peace hope harmony his spiritual goal....
Destiny of a Dumb Door
I have a fascination for closed doors, doors that pretended to be closed or locked but were always unlatched from within.. doors that defied logic , doors that were part of mans destiny..mans door was always through a woman's heart sometimes shut sometimes open..another door a woman's cavernous tunnel that led to a world beyond a world we lived , a love trap door that sucked your soul and your pole within its goal..two parts unevenly opened became whole..a woman's brain has no door as she has nothing to store , guilt betrayal lust denial no more ...a blog goddess or a whore..a woman is purely a door at the core..
Woman's door the first time satin shimmering curtains that man tore man so fucked cocksure , gliding in gliding out within its pulpy contour, walls of softness sucking in the steamy liquid of love that you poured..that after nine months destroyed her art decor..a bit of you , even a bit of someone else from her door fell of the shore ..love that was once a poem regressed to a domestic chore..no more what it was once before. unpoetically she said it was on the ladies bike double seat her hymen tore..
inspired by and dedicated to manish geakwad...in hymeneal humility
Sweety and Marziya
My dear friend Ramesh Garud stays close to my house I shoot his house Ganpati every year , he was quite depressed for some time as time as his pet Alsatian had died , the animal was suffering from an incurable liver problem and his death hit the entire family.
There was sadness till he bought a new replacement Sweety, and every time I thought I would take Marziya to see Sweety it never happened.. till yesterday.
I finally got them together face to face as Sweety loves nibbling flesh Marziya was wary and scared too. but they got of on a good start and signed a bond of friendship, Lucky the Labrador has overgrown Marziya so this new friendship was important to keep Marziya attached to her surroundings and her extreme love for animals at Bandra Bazar Road.
The Gold Diggers of Bandra Jain Mandir Road
121,794 items / 823,788 views
These are the implements or working tools of the gutter workers or gold diggers of Bandra Jain Mandir Road.
They search for gold particles from the gutters as around this area there a cluster of gold smith and jewelery shops.
These people as a community fascinate me and I pass them twice a day so I shoot them most of the time..
The Beggar Hijra at Bandra
121,793 items / 823,758 views
I spotted him in color
I shot him in color
his dreams I stole
I desaturated his
androgynous soul
a beggar hijra
a wingless bird
in a pigeon hole
his fucked life
not under his control
each time he trips
he falls in a manhole
a fish
outside a fishbowl
sodomized
by article 377
through his ass whole
It Was Not An Apparition She Saw
121,791 items / 823,724 views
a poet dressed
overdressed
a silver stick
in hand
a ringed claw
bandras
friendly baba
it was me
not an apparition
she saw
howling
shouting
screaming
shock and awe
lockjaw
a photographer
who loves a 2
year old child
a blogger grand pa
before a crowd collected
my spectral presence
from her vision
i had to withdraw
in a rickety ricksha
Politics Is A Funny Game
121,790 items / 823,711 views
garlands of currency
round their necks
they boast
the poor man grovelling
on earth in the hot
sun of poverty roasts
poor man politician or ghost
take your choice
whom you like the most
the future of our country
shines on a sign post
politics keeps the nation
engrossed foremost
having MP , MLA
next to your name
a priority top most
apne hame vote diya
shukriya dost
the doors of the
ministers house
for the next 5 years
for you are closed
So photography is not just a fine art, its squeezing a drop of tear from a dry hanky of hope..now in sheer humility how could you see a bloggers picture on a page in Times of India or a Mumbai Mirror..so raw fragmented genius is freely available on Facebook Flickr Twitter and Google Buzz..Thank You ..
What is Friendship ?Does It Ever End ...
www.glennlosackmd.com/-/glennlosackmd/
friendship
is a pledge
a karmic
connection
of two like
minded
souls
that
never ends
breaks or bends
two photographers
two poets
a little child
called marziya
another
name for love
through
which it
transcends
a shia pandit
a brooklyn jew
that god decided
to blend
through the soul of
mother india
it extends
blood related
best friends
21 March 2010
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Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
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Dargah of Hazrat Syed Ali Mira Datar Unava Gujrat , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. HAZRAT SYED ALI MIRA DATAR'S G...
