Monday, April 5, 2010

Two Sides of The Same Coin Are We

whether you call me
a muslim
or call him a hindu
created by the same
potter are we
he painted
us perhaps
in different colors
but a single
form humanity
two sides
of the same coin
are we bound
by a single knot
bharat bhagya
vidhata
bhai
aadaab......
satsreakal....
nomoskar
tears united
in pain
as they fall from
our eyes
i know no other
heaven
india
the land of our birth
our worldly paradise
where brotherhood and peace
lives never dies

dedicated to sujitda

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Hindu and Muslim We Are But In Name

the blood
flowing
through his body
my body is the same
his faith my cultural
inheritance
my faith
a message
of peace
brotherhood
interlocked
in the same frame
it is bigots
in both our
communities
our ethos shame
our country defame
the land of peace
prosperity
where the ganges flow
is Hindustan
self same
call it India Bharat
a rose by any
other name
tolerance
mutual coexistence
our collective aim
from neigbors
a family
we became

Maharaj and I are very good frends and he comes from Varnasi to this sleepy back lane of Bandra Bazar Road , Daya Sagar Hanuman Mandir ,a temple dedicated to Lord Hanuman , a stone form in the shape of the monkey god discovered while unerathing the ground is the diety of this temple.

सन्तोषः परमो लाभः सत्सङ्गः परमा गतिः ।


विचारः परमं ज्ञानं शमो हि परमं सुखम् ॥

English Translation of Sanskrit Quote:

Contentment is the highest gain,
Good Company the highest course,
Enquiry the highest wisdom,
and Peace the highest enjoyment.

http://sanskrit-quote.blogspot.com/

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Digging a Poets Grave

although he loved her
passionately
although
he has deleted her
from
his fucked
consciousness
although
she put a leash
on the best of him
he was not her slave
her feathery touch
her sweaty muskiness
for her being he craved
but all good things
come to an end
his memories
for another
more heavenly
endowed man
from her heart
she razed
he died
broken hearted
with a few sheafs
of unread poems
he is being
buried on the streets
his grave
god be praised
he will soon
be in the arms
of nubile virgins
a cosmic poet
on the chase
barefeet
although
dogfaced
a testicular
tragedy
he could
not face
lancy
her new lover
won the race
by gods grace

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Hung To Die

Life is Precious Please Dont Kill Yourself

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Marziya Shakir Shoots

from the branches
of my family tree
a fruit
marziya shakir
her camera in chaoots
eyes closed
through
the whispering
silence
of her soul
she shoots
a bare feet blogger
an old man
her off shoot
she is street smart
intelligent
pretty and cute
the world
around me
she loots
she computes
her grand pa
as a model
one of his kind
she recruits
barefeet
no shoes or boots
marziya shakir
2 year old
pictorial
but poetic
pursuit
you must be born
with music
before
you hold
krishnas flute

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Teaching Photography To My 2 Year Old Grand Daughter

I dont know how to teach photography, I learnt photography because I was made to see before I shoot ..I shot light with the darkness of my soul.

Marziya is one step on me she shuts her eyes and takes my picture .

So what is photography, according to me it is a lesson in sheer humility, taking from one and giving it to the other.

You need a camera , or photography is not possible , this thought is not a metaphor.

Now comes the second part of my lesson , in Unlearning Photography, photography is about Touch, the way you touch the camera before it touches you, Marziya knows the Nikon D 80 to hold it to shoot with it assisted by me.

This camera in her hand is her first toy, before she began playing with dolls cats and dogs.

This is her inheritance from me ..I dont care if she does not become a photographer , my intention in making her see the world through the lens is simply to get the bigger picture of life and to see it without cropping it, without distortion..without blinkers.

The way Marziya holds the camera should provide ample proof of her ability to shoot pictures with her eyes closed.

You have to close your eyes before you embed a seed which will grow poetically as a plant in another mans eyes.

I was taught photography by three Gurus and teaching Marziya is my tribute to all three of them.

Mr KG Maheshwari, Late Prof BW Jatkar and the robust dynamic Shreekanth Malushte.

These are the three main pillars that infused love for the camera the print and the larger picture of life.

My photography stems from the streets of Pain.,


But I must inform all you guys I was never a photographer , but I met a lot of photographers during my stint with Mudra Communication Court House Dhobi Talao, a very short stint that bought me close to a lot of photographers and the world of photography.I did not even possess a camera at that time.

A few of them are people I will never forgot though I dont know if they are aware that I am a photographer too ..

Pablo Bartholomew ..master of natural light , I accompanied him on a Vimal poster shoot Sweet Memories with Sangita Bijlani, he is a natural born..perhaps in retrospection watching him , hearing his talks with Vinod Manaktala near Ritz hotel where he did his slide processing helped me

Adrian Stevens Chin Win Lee Malvika Tiwari, Suresh Cordo , Mr Oberoi from Daulat building near Usha Sadan, Nadish Nowrojee Chippy, Shantanu Sheorey, were part of my world of optical illusions.

Pankaj Shah and his one time muse now a photographer too Urmilla Deshpande..

There may be others names I have forgotten , Mr Gurav the art director of Mudra was a another person who honed me artistically.

The Bollywood connection with photography began with Harish Daftary , the most human congenial life loving unbitching photographer.

Rakesh Shresta I knew from my stint at Sheraton Treasures his family studio was Colorama at that time..at the Oberois.

Mr RT Chawla is a doyen I met sometimes and Singhal saab to name a few.

Marziya my grand daughter has been aware of the camera since she was only 2 days old.

Here at Flickr I photo shot the story of her life over 9000 pictures while she was growing , she too like me is comfortable observing street life.

Nothing scares her only cockroaches ...

She has met some giant names in photography , Marc De Clercq , Reza Masoudi , Jean Marc Gargantiel.. many more to come..

Though she awaits her god father the one and only street maestro Dr Glenn Losack MD from New York Manhattan.


So this is a short parable of a prodigal photographer and his one and only disciple Marziya Shakir 2 year old..connected bt blood and the Karmic vision of a world outside.. measured as imagery of Gods playfulness ..


Mind you sometimes the photographer is the only person on the planet who shows you God the photographers creations in a more divine light.

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Marziya Learns Through You Tube

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When I come back from work, and space myself near my computer Marziya will sweet talk me into playing her favorite nursery rhymes ..it begins with Twinkle Twinkle , and Marziya is an audio visual child.

She learns fast , I learn from her but much slower.

Now that school is shut it is more of You Tube for Marziya.

She prefers the old numbers I listen to while I blog, and she mimics the songs her favorite and mine is Pritam An Milo..

Marziya is over 2 years old highly opinionated street fighter , she takes no shit from anyone on the road , I mean children who love pinching childrens cheeks , she boxes them right away.

She loves the two little colored chicks I bought her , she calls them Tom and Jerry.

She feeds them rice , changes their water cup...in short she cares.

She was watching me posting the Good Friday pictures and she tells me Grand Pa he is Jesus Na.

Here she is watching Jingle Bells.

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The Good Friday Ends

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I quickly hopped iinto a ricksha , first I removed my tshirt that was drenched to the bone and from Vakola made my way home I had shot 735 pictures of the 14 Stations of the Cross barefeet,

I took this shot myself in the moving rickshah..

And I end this with a few words I wrote asa comment on Facebook in defense of Laxmi Narayan ato my friend Ravi Shekars comment about the management of Bombay Gymkhana..'

Ravi Shekhar commented on your link:

"angrezoN ke zamane ke jailor hain ye log !"

my reply

sahi bat kahi sahab apne
zamir to zamir sara jahan
laga kapne
apnon ko ghair banane ki
virasat jo chodi
hai inke bapne
hamari tarbiyat
hamari tehzeeb aur adab
par mara dank
ek zehreele saap ne
aur natija dehkar
laga hapne

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My Barefeet after the Shoot

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Touch


Touch, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

I finally bring my Good Friday set 2010 to an end I shot over 735 pictures from 9.30 am to 4.30 pm , I shot my self in the ricksha too ,, I had removed my tshirt that was totally drenched , my feet were badly burnt.

But I had walked with Jesus , and I had walked with the Christian community that had walked with him too..

It has taken me 2 days to upload all these pictures at Flickr.

Most of the picures I shot were based on the most important ingredient of the human soul Touch..everything was based on Touch a Touch that heals all.

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RIGHTS OF ADMISSION RESERVED

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bombay gymkhana
135 years
hallowed
temple
of the rich
the mighty
the elite
hijras
indian dogs
they mistreat
in some
future time
this will include
bloggers
who blog barefeet
cross dressers effete
a racist mind set
full of arrogance conceit
indians are the greatest racists
with australia new zealand
they could easily compete
for the life achievement award
in narrow mindedness over zealousness
racial discrimination racial profiling
a thought complete
61 years of our independence
a total surrender a total defeat

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