Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Carrying The Seminal Stained Mattress of Another Mans Sin

no man
can ever win
after all
he too
will end up
down there
in the trap door
of her recycling bin
love is nothing
but a punishment
of the human skin
pierce forced entry
by a kingpin
a kiss on the nape
a kiss on the chin
she throws you out
lets another one in
fuck she has taken
many like you for
roller coaster ride
a never ending spin
even the lamb
in the wolves skin
whether you have
or dont have a
she is game for
just about
any trade in
when you die
the alimony
will be paid by
your next of kin
only the divorce lawyer
who fucks her free
she wont turn in
bald headed
like a pumpkin

to firdaus shakir
my kid brother

It Takes Two Hands To Clap

our hearts
our souls
our ethos
on a single
a hindu a muslim
it takes two hands to clap
we are different we are same
a single cord that wont snap
a jenu and a skullcap

Silence Zone

Hope Hindutva
a message
of universal peace
a silence zone
along with Islam
in Amchi Mumbai
a non violence zone
mazhab nahi sikhata
apas main
bair karna
our ring tone
our collective ethos
when we are together
we are not alone
our spirit
made of fire water
ice concrete and stone
beneath the branches
of a banyan tree
we have flourished
we have grown
a nation
that we call
our own
the strength
of our spirituality
our backbone
mother India
our precious
on the soul
of humanity

dedicated to my guru kg maheshwari

Gadi Aur Hath Gadi Face To Face

in surrealistic
mind space
both part
of lifes race
the poor man
the rich man
in deathly
a wanton
of destiny
the source
of each ones

The Quintessential Carrom Board

A scene at Bandra Bazar Road


Carrom also Caroom or carroms is a family of tabletop games sharing a similarity in that their mechanics lie somewhere between billiards and table shuffleboard. The game has various other names around the world, including carrum, couronne, carum, karam, karom, karum, fatta (Punjabi) and (rarely) finger billiards.

The origins of carrom are uncertain, although western sources suggest that the game is of Bangladesh, Pakistan, Indian, Portuguese colonial, or Burmese origin.[1] Variations of the game played with a cue stick similar to those used in billiards-type games may have independently developed in several cases as a mixture of billiards and shuffleboard.

The game is very popular in Bangladesh, India and Pakistan. Similar games are played throughout the world, and may or may not share common origins with carrom. There is a carrom-like game also played with cues in China. Games similar to carrom appear all over Asia, for example vindi vindi in Fiji and szhe szhe in Israel. Some variants make use of discarded objects instead of fashioned playing pieces; bottle caps are used for games similar to carrom in both Mexico and Java.[citation needed] Various North American and European games bear a resemblance to (and may be related to) carrom, including crokinole, pitchnut, pichenotte and novuss.

According to the International Carrom Federation (ICF), the world carrom champion recognized in 2003 is Indian striker Wasif Osmani[citation needed]. He has been Indian defending champion 6 years running[citation needed]. The national competition consists of over 10 million competitors[citation needed].

The standardized Indian game is played on a board of lacquered plywood, normally with a 29 inch (74 cm) square playing surface. The edges of the playing surface are bounded by bumpers of wood, and the bottom of the board is covered by a net with a 10 cm2 or larger capacity.[2] Instead of the balls of billiards games, carrom uses disks. The object of the game is to strike or flick with a finger a comparatively heavy disk called a "striker" such that it contacts lighter object disks called "carrom-men" and propels them into one of four corner pockets.
[edit] Carrom-menA carrom-man (also carrom man, carromman, carroman; plural -men; sometimes abbreviated c/m; and known by colloquial terms such as seed, coin, puck, or goti) is a usually wooden (sometimes plastic), uniform small disk used in playing carrom. The Carrom-men have a smooth movement in a flat position on the surface of the carrom board when hit by a striker of standard specification.

The carrom-men come in two colors denoting the two players (or, in doubles play, teams). Traditionally, these colors are white (or unstained) and black.

ICF-sanctioned pieces must have a diameter of no more than 3.18 cm and no less than 3.02 cm, and must be between 7 mm and 9 mm thick, with an edge that is round and plain, and a weight of 5–5.5 g.

The white coins are worth 2 points and the black are worth 1 point.

The red (or sometimes pink) queen or "match-taker" coin/seed, is the most powerful carrom piece. It is placed at the center of the circle. Under ICF rules, if a player wins the board with the queen, this adds three 3 "queen points" to the player's total score. A player has the right to pocket the queen and to cover it provided a carrom-man of the player's own has already been pocketed and if pockets opponents piece then he looses. In other way, if a player sinks the opponents coin while trying to cover the queen, the queen comes out and is placed on the center, the opponent's coin stays down, and the player loses his turn. When playing for acumulative point, the player must pocket a white coin.[3] Under ICF rules, the dimensions of the queen must be the same as those of the other carrom-men.
[edit] The striker

The striker is a larger, heavier piece, flicked with the finger to hit the carrom-men and knock them into the corner pockets or into each other. According to the laws by ICF, the striker "shall be smooth and round, with a diameter not more than 4.13 cm.".[2] Its weight should not be more than 15 grams.[4] Ivory and metal strikers are not allowed in tournaments.[2]
[edit] Powder

Fine-grained powder is used on the board to enable the pieces to slide easily. Boric acid powder is the most commonly used for this purpose.[2]

In the UK, many players use a version of anti-set-off spray powder from the printing industry which has specific electrostatic properties with particles of 50 micrometres in diameter. The powder is made from pure, food-grade vegetable starch.

nternational rules (sometimes hyperbolically called "the laws of carrom") are promulgated by the ICF, the governing body of carrom. The organisation also ranks players, sanctions tournaments and presents awards, and has many national affiliates such as the All-India Carrom Federation, Australian Carrom Federation, UK Carrom Association and US Carrom Association.There is a penalty a person has to pay if his striker goes in the hole.This term is referred to as deuce. The penalty is usually 10.

Order of play is determined by the process of "calling the carrom-men" or, simply, "the toss". Before the commencement of each match, in formal play, an umpire hides one black and one white carrom-men in his hands and the players have to guess which carrom-men are being held in each hand. The player who wins the toss must either choose to strike first or to change sides (from white to black) and give up the opening break. No option to pass this decision to the other player is available. If the player chooses to strike, the loser can change sides, but if the winner chooses to change sides the loser must strike first.

In a doubles event, the team winning the toss has the choice, as above. Once the toss-losers have sat down, they may not interchange. This order of sitting continues throughout the match.

Whoever plays first or breaks gets white.
[edit] Shooting

The aim of the game is to pot one's own nine carrom men before one's opponent pots his/hers. However, before sinking one's final carrom man, the queen must be pocketed and then "covered" by pocketing one of one's own carrom men on the same or subsequent strike. Fouls, such as crossing the diagonal lines on the board with any part of one's body, or potting the striker, lead to carrom men being returned to the board. The player is allowed to shoot with any finger, including the thumb (known as "thumbing" or a "thumb shot").

At any point of time the player should not strike any of the coins on the diagonal line closer to the player.

God Lives In Darkness of a Blind Mans Eyes

The Blog Speaks

I walk to work through Indraji Nagar slums, though I can come directly via Bandra Hill Road but I prefer the noisy back lanes , I see life face to face and as I always carry my camera and shoot what touches my human soul, I guess I am as opinionated in the shots I take as I am iin my blogs..

The only problem is that all that I shoot on the streets is part of Firoze Shakir street photography set, after uploading them here I move ahead, so most of these pictures are devoid of text, I thought I would work on them through Picnic which edits within Flickr but my system began crashing I gave up...there are over 7500 pictures , competing with my Hijra pictures 11000 and Marziya Shakir set over 9000 pictures.

And to keep these pictures viewable I will have to keep on paying 25 US$ every year or they wont be visible at all, I have been lucky my son and my mentor Dr Glenn Losacks contribution to the Pro membership makes it possible.. you would have not seen any of this without their contribution to my blogs shelf life..

I cross blog from Flickr.

I had a site Firoze Shakir .com I gave it up I could not afford the annual fees of Rs 6000.. So I am in a way grateful to Flickr.. my account is marked safe I follow Flickr guidelines.

But yes you cannot comment on my Flickr posts , simply because I do not want to give importance to your hate comments , have faced racism all over the net including Poem Hunter ..so now I dont want to take shit no more ..you dont like my pictures move along dont fuck my brains by asking me to be you, I would not want to have the fucked parents you had who taught you to hate Muslims or Shias or Indians or Hijras as in my case. Yes I have locked my Flickr comment box I strangled it with my own hands. I choked its voice for good.

But yes I miss comments from my best friends but than hate on Flickr or elsewhere on the net is greater than love..

At Facebook where I pimp a part of me without commercial gain I allow comments.

I allow comments on Twitter and Google Buzz.
I prefer Google Buzz to Twitter .

At Word Press at Blogspot I have locked my comment box.

I dont sell my pictures I dont sell my words but I am open to a joint collaboration with any publishing house of repute to publish my poems and my hijra blogs..

I need to buy a new camera and a laptop as the profession I am in is now just a battered dream, running around to get the hard money I worked for from people whom I gave credit.
I also have to pay back people who stood by me during my time of need.
Blogging is a holistic healing tool you wont find this blog on any newspaper of Mumbai.. not yet up for Sale.,

Yeh Dosti Nahi Chodenge

The Meeting of Fate

This story I am about to narrate you dont have to believe it ,I was coming to my workspace when from a far I saw this sadhu in a rickshah, I was attired almost like him, but in black, as you can see in the next picture of him and me.. our eyes met and he passed me by , I had a desire to meet him , I made it known in my glance.

Later in the evening when I returned to work I saw him sitting in a neigboring shop with his back to me , I knew he was the same Baba so I approached him , and he said well you wanted to meet me as much as I wanted to meet you, I nodded my head , and later I came to know he is a Tantric I gave him a orange stole and some money , he did not ask me though.. but I knew his wants as he knew my needs , he is from Nasik Trimbakeshwar and is known as Shankar Baba,,

I shot several shots , I liked his congeniality, his love of humanity devoid of hate.

He just told one word before parting ..he said the moment I saw you from the rickshaI knew you were a Momin.

I have never met him in my life and I am not sure I will ever meet him again.

I Would Rather Be a Hindu Than Be a Wahhabi

i would rather be called a kafir
than be a wahabbi
i would rather be a hindu
than be a wahhabi
both options
close to humanity
one with
my cultural inheritance
of peace and brotherhood
mutual tolerance sanity
no i distance myelf
from your hate filled
a shia pandit
i am
is enough for me
these are my thoughts
you dont have to agree
at least here in india
my lord is not
held in captivity

Searching For Their Future Under The Car !

they could not find their future
however hard they tried
they wept they cried
they felt they had been
cheated of their pride
searching for their future
behind their backs their
hands tied
if you had money
than the god of education
was by your side
if your parents
borrowed money
to send you to australia
they received a mail
you had been stabbed
you had died
a catch 22
fucked and fried

What are they searching for ...

What are they searching for ...
under the car
they have lost
someting very
this i could
guess from afar
huge bouders
of knowledge
in their
heavy school bags
education today
a scar
the completion
of their studies
they will be begging
for work
under sold
as a commodity
in a works bazar
dreams in their eyes
they too want
to be rahul gandhi
or salman khan
the be human
film star
the girl child
has not yet
found a role
so far
for a while
it was
sania mirza
now she is
no more ours

dedicated to salman the 30 mar khan
sab bacchon ka pyara sab bachhon ki jan

Jigsaw Puzzle of Life

light and shade
torment me
as i fade
i not climbed
the mountains
to seek love
at home
i should
have stayed
my trip
i should
have delayed
but i was destined
to mourn a loss
on the path
of persuasion
i was waylaid
a woman
in brocade
my barefeet
on the soul
of a razors blade
that she played

Love The Most Fucked Emotion

although he has deleted her
from his fucked consciousness
her thoughts invade his sleep
love the most fucked emotion
skin deep a commodity
second hand dirt cheap
recyled agony on the
mound of her despair
he weeps
dreams blah blah
fucked sheep
away from
her life
in one sweep

The Man With The Giant Cock

123,076 items / 842,652 views

all his life
he wanted to have what
god did not give him
that extra libidinous
long limb
to fuck
life to the brim
but the situation
was very grim
his fairy god mother
granted him
a pole of a cock
sleek and trim
water logged
in his dreams
he outswims
neat and slim

I Shoot E Motion

123,076 items / 842,652 views

I was speaking to my dear friend Prashanth Singh a very good dude and a good photographer from Mumbai ..and the topic was trends in photography as defined by camera clubs.

Without being sarcastic or insulting or humiliting I think if you see one camera clubs newsletter with another camera's newsletter it is the same nothing has changed , makes me puke vociferously rapidly in oxymoron haste.

What beats me when will we come out of the rectum of the old fathers of photography, their time is gone , their contribution is archival period..

Every photographer is copying the old school of thought, the same ambiance the same mood , fucked pictures that I would not paste on my grand mothers grave she would die the second time too.

And if you read this without bias,, without blinkers you know what I am talking about, I leave it to the honesty of your conscience.

I moved away a million light years away from the camera club decadent culture it had nothing to offer for the future of my pictorial soul , salon participation that took me back to the Dark Ages.

I evolved I am everything I am as a photographer thanks to the club , but you dont expect me to sit on a school bench all my life .. I took to the streets literally..

Send your prints , to the salon for participation invariably it comes back bleeding like a menstrual pad , and most of the time forgive me the venerable judge does not know his ass from his rectum..he sees the picture only as a image shot, Fuck F Stops ..he does not see street side emotions, and fuck all archaic camera rules ..

A judge who has been tasting the vulva of a flower as a nature photographer all his life wont even see beauty in beggars eyes.. tell me I am wrong..

So this is the state of photography I decided to Unlearn Photography I took a two year old girl under my charge and she taught me to reshoot life as it existed without morphing my human soul .. yes I am a poet and you need to see pictures as poetry to make others read it too.

And Marziya will join my camera club perhaps when she reaches the age of conviction things might have changed who knows Prashanth Singh might be the President of the club, and there might be some hope at the end of a dark tunnel of a fucked up aperture of life.

I shoot shit that I capture from a moving ricksha , moving cab I get to shoot emotions I can poetize them with words its the extra gift God gave me as fragmented genius.

I am a fucked photographer but I shoot barefeet because inorder to shoot pain you have to feel it to, so I walked in the scorching sun shooting Jesus Christ and the soul of Humanity as my own salvation too.

I did not know I would write all this ,.. but I guess someone had to write it some time or the other and this is my personal opinion I stand by it..

I am happy photoblogging atleast I know the difference between my ass and another mans rectum..

And I am whatever as a photographer to Mr KG Maheshwari, late Prof BW Jatkar , Shrekanth Malushte ..

And lat but not the least a man on a wheel chair who taught me photography in one session on Light .. the one and only Girish Mistry..

I would not mind learning photography all over again from tthe kids he teaches.

And this is my Faith in a Man who is a Mystery more than he his Garish...he disovered photography without making it nightmarish circular not squarish

House Full

House Full, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

123,076 items / 842,652 views

Most of the beggars this sde of Bandra are hardcore brown sugar addicts....they occupy the streets dope but do not die, death evades them as the place where one goes as human soul after death has a board HOUSE FULL..

Now you will wonder why House Full, well its a fuck up up above, the custodian of the place is under stress , he has been having sleepless nights , he has asked the Angel of Death to lie low, as there has been a great demand for a long running show .. in the creators cinema house it is called First Come First Served , the come should not be taken as a metaphor.. the film is Virgins in Paradise , cinemascope , and you get to see it only if you have bombed a Shia mosque, killed a few innocent bystanders , you know the rest..I wont go into gory details..the cinema here is made by petro dollar money that was sent by expatriates from earth ..

Rights of Admission is reserved here of late , beggars hijras and Indian dogs not allowed..

I thought of writing this poetically I might at some later date..


A Thought From the Fucked Figment of my Head I hate writing this as a Note on Facebook ,,so Passe why cant Facebook call a Note a Blog ...

Why This Hijra Did Not Go To Bombay Gymkhana!

123,076 items / 842,652 views

This is beggar hijra who solicits for alms at the Turner Road Traffic signal..she is an old contact her guru is an old friend of mine..

We were meeting after a very long time and I told her about the sordid inhuman treatment of a Hijra icon Laxmi Narayan Tripathi..at the eltist Bombay Gymkhana , she listened to me and was not at all shocked as she told me in Mumbai many a times she was thrown out from temples too.

She lives in a slum, she along wth a few others and she has no dreams.
Yes imagine being human and not having deams.. she has been debarred from her dreams too.

I live beg shit get
fucked on the
roads I tread
roads made by a
man made power
left over from
she is fed
cops chase her
at the traffic signal
a fine Rs 1200
per begging head
but honestly
without cheating
she earns her
daily bread
to a slimy
two timing
mother fucker
a drunkard
a lazy dick head
she is wed
but she loves
him almost
like a cricketer
loves a tennis star
love the most
crazy emotion
she said
her head
a perpetual
thorny bed
as the cars
her sped
she is happy
with her lot
this beggar hijra
a torn saree
a smelly blouse
pickled red
who lives
on the railway
in a tin roofed
fucked up
she had an
as a speaker
for tedx
bombay gym
but she sent
laxmin narayan tripathi
the rest
of her story
she left
her hijra
went ahead

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