Thursday, July 22, 2010

Two Surviving Brothers

The place where I shot this is a East Indian commune , these two brothers are the only surviving members all their immediate family is dead one of the brothers told me.

Though they have relatives in the distant suburbs , the two brothers hardly mix around , I meet the elder one who talks to me from time to time.

And I sometimes as a poet understand their loneliness , past memories when their house was full of hustle bustle now gone silent forever.

For me respect for a mans heritage is very important , his heritage may not be mine but we are both me as a Muslim he as a Catholic are part of a single culture called Humanity.

And we are Indians the glue that binds us beyond the difference in our religiosity.

And through the two singlet each belonging to the respective brothers tells the story of their life..do you really want to see their faces I will request and shoot them tomorrow , this is the bitter and sweet potion that makes life worth living.

And this is a poem if you read it like one or its only prose ...

Ad maiorem Dei gloriam

a jesuit saint
a shia blogger
through the eyes
of the camera meet
a moment
beatified
a moment
complete
as jesus watches
from the back seat
humanity
is what matters
says the heart beat
without humanity
religiosity
incomplete


dedicated to
Fr Juan SJ

From Wikipedia

Ad maiorem Dei gloriam

Ad majorem Dei gloriam or ad maiorem Dei gloriam,[a] also known by the abbreviation AMDG, is the motto of the Society of Jesus, a religious order within the auspices of the Roman Catholic Church. In Latin, the motto means "For the greater glory of God" and is believed to have been coined by the founder of the religious order, Saint Ignatius of Loyola, as a cornerstone of the society's philosophy. This phrase is designed to reflect the idea that any work that is not evil can be meritorious for the spiritual life if it is performed with this intention, even things considered normally indifferent.[1]

When images of Saint Ignatius depict him carrying a book, the motto is often inscribed within—representative of the religious writings of the saint.

This phrase is the motto of many Jesuit educational institutions, including eight of the twenty-eight members of the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities, and many high schools worldwide. In Georgetown University's Gaston Hall, the phrase is followed by "inque hominum salutem", producing a longer phrase: "For the greater glory of God and the salvation of humanity."[2]

Many Jesuit schools and universities ask students to write the initialism at the tops of their papers, to remind them that even their schoolwork ought to be dedicated to augmenting the glory of God.[b][3]

The abbreviation was frequently included in the signatures of the late Pope John Paul II; Johann Sebastian Bach wrote it on his musical compositions.[3][4] It is repeatedly quoted by the Jesuit character in Flann O'Brien's book "The Hard Life".
[edit] Notes

St Peter Church Bandra Where God Lives

all that he has
to his children
he gives
he is human
he was human
so his children
he quickly forgives
metaphorically
euphorically
euphemistically
not just in the church
in the human heart
he lives

The Politics of Life She is Where She Was Where Her Mother Was

A Womans Life Only a Woman Knows

from cradle to grave
her pain does not go
every step a new
pain grows
a woman's life
only a woman knows
every breath
her death throes
but she hides her pain
convincingly
nothing shows
from one end of a river
into an ocean she flows
thrown miles away
when the wind blows
this was a picture
with a poem
i froze
the head of a woman
balancing a rose

to rima melwani

Please Dont Take My Picure She Said

I know you mean no harm
your blogs I have read
I will soon be gone
in a world of the dead
as I prepare
for the journey ahead
please be kind
dont take my picture
she said
from my camera vision
like a shadow she fled


to amr

Marriage Destroyed Him

his horny wife
wanted
what he did
not have
not that big
fights
chaos
the usual
shindig
she would
beat him
abuse him
call him a pig
so he began
to drink
bottle after bottle
swig
after swig
his wife could not
take it anymore
she ran
away with
the guy
from the rig
leaving behind
her stilettos
her wig
for the lust
of a well
laden bough
she gave
up the twig

Holding On To Dear Life

from afar
for whom the bells toll
death bells ring
the builder wants it
the owner clings
around his
property
angels sing
will this edifice
survive against
the calamitous
chaos
of politics
the builder mafia
death
where is thy sting
going
going
gone
the gaothan
racing against time
a pendulum
swings

Sandra From Bandra Lives Here

she is intelligent
articulate kind
fun loving
going great guns
in her advertising
career
top heavy
dimpled
posterior
engaged
to a
hydraulic
engineer
at totos
to dance
shake leg
have beer
at the weekend
to uttan vasai
disappear
sandra from bandra
comes for sunday mass
at st peters
wont miss
the midnight mass
Eve of New Year
not a single bad
word about guys
who jilted her
you will ever hear
her love life
she plays
by ear
memories
she holds
in a tear
the spirit
of Mumbai
warm sincere
Sandra Kick boxer
at Waroda Road
they all fear
dynamic daring
a doll so dear

Holding On To Dear Life

Holding on to dear life is holding on to the heritage of the East Indian gaothan earlier known as clusters of fishing village where the original inhabitants of Bandra lived with their parish and their feat and festivities.

Once the CRZ opens up it will all vanish, huge towers will come in their place , all theses old folks will be found in an old age home sold out by their devious relatives in most cases.

So I document a few surviving houses bungalows for posterity.

I could have made it more aesthetic shooting this painful picture in black and white but pain is colorless odorous and the fumes kill the soul of a photographer too.. a poet photographer.

Photography is poetry provided you can read prosaic pictures as poetry .. fuck syntax.

Crowds Outside Salman Khans House

Outside the house
of Bollywoods
Most Wanted
Hero No1
they wait
a glimpse is
what they want
at any rate
a galaxy of
their hopes
salman khan
the only king khan
his building gates
driven away rudely
by his new watchman
shooed away
they cling
to a karmic fate
salman khan
only a human
kind god
could create
be human
love dont hate
they brave the rains
without food or water
his hard core fans
in a euphoric state
being salman khan
is what matters
in all humility
a soul so great
alive on twitter
but fast asleep
on facebook
i must state

I had gone to meet Salman Khan but the watchman thought I was a crazy fan dressed the way I was dressed hard pressed and drove me away.. through my poem my angst I display

The Silhouette Of A Hijab

135,395 items / 1,028,954 views

fighting its way
to survive
the hijab
fighting
a battle
to stay
alive
all attempts
to choke
it to death
have however
nose dived
by the grace of god
a garb revived
the time for its
departure
has not arrived
the ethos
the angst
of a muslim
woman
cant be
deprived

Farzan Ganesh Bhakt

135,325 items / 1,028,347 views

Some Hindus I have met in life think only they have the monopoly of the religion they believe in.
And I came to the conclusion that sometimes it is the non Hindu that the Lord blesses too, and I came across several people as a photographer who give respect to deities and get respect too.

One of my favorite examples of Hope and Hindutva relates to Farzan whose father is a Parsi and mother a Catholic, Farzans grand mother is yester year famous junior artiste Katy Irani.


Farzan hosts the Ganpati every year , and he is passionate about Lord Ganesha a passion that borders on delirium.

He has already begun saving his pocket money to buy the statue, he does the decoration himself, and is totally excited when he brings the Lord to his house, his dad stops drinking , his mother stops cooking non veg and the local Marathi boys do the Arti at his house.


Farzans Ganpati is a set o Flickr my tribute to his devotion of Lord Ganesha.


Recently his family was knocked down by a speeding cab in town , Farzans father broke his leg , his mother managed to save herself , but Farzan was thrown at a far distance under the wheels of another cab I am told, his father narrated the story and told me that he knew Farzan was dead.

But the cab under which Farzan was thrown under ,stopped and Farzan was unhurt no bruise no scratch nothing.

So sometimes Lord Ganesha becomes a protective shield of someone who is not a Hindu but yet as human as the Lord himself.

Now the skeptic might not believe in all this but the Lord works in a strange way..

Marziya my grand daughter has been a close friend of Farzan since his first Ganpati..this year will be his third Ganpati he will bring home and he takes it for immersion at Mahim beach...chanting Ganpati Bappa Morya .

3 Idiots in the Rain

135,324 items / 1,028,296 views

the asshole
the dickhead
the pea brained
lovers of life
toilet trained
each to the
others destiny
enchained
friends
lovers
they have
remained
wet dreamy
unconstrained
a relationship
unexplained
a hope within hope
ingrained
a lost paradise
regained

Man's Nature Is Of The Beast

135,323 items / 1,028,277 views

born human
a child he drank
his mothers
milk of kindness
to say the least
it is mans nature
to turn a beast
on another
beast
he will feast
the flesh
of the beast
he will eat
the call
of his body heat
hate
he will excrete
parallel
lines
life and death
where his
soul will meet
his life
bitter and sweet
a karmic circle
going round
going round
irrational
gravitational
incomplete

A Street Photographer Shoots What He Sees

135,322 items / 1,028,246 views

a poetic thought
a pictorial angst
on the soul of time
he will freeze
the trigger
he will squeeze
a moment on
cyberspace
he will release
photography
a message of love
preempting peace
moving pictures
as they kiss
your viewers soul
like a whiff
of breeze
a blog
is certainly
not journalese

When it Rains It Pours

135,321 items / 1,028,216 views

droplets making love
to the earths floor
muslim beggar
woman caught
in a downpour
her destiny
fished out
of the shore
her future
more bad luck
in store
karmic fury
as she sits
outside
locked doors
her only escape
death through
the trapdoor
a rusty soul
crumbling ore

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