138,600 items / 1,072,705 views
the string would break
so these are puppets
dangling on a rope
on a steep slope
touches them with hope
in the darkness
of their lives
for a few alms
Friday, August 20, 2010
Posted at Indi Blogger
138,581 items / 1,072,553 views
Media will always be there and I wish Media Jiyo Hazaron Sal lekin..
For media the day of the journalist mafia is over and its the turn of the blogger to reap the rewards and to resurrect the soul of the already gone into a paralytic stroke the Indian Newspaper.
This is my personal thought media trying to choke the voice of the blogger totally imposible on the Internet.
The media has to accept the contribution of the blogger at all costs together we can weave a of a world without barbed wires a world with a better tomorrow for the unborn child
And this is my first blog that I shall post from Indi Blogger to Flickr..
I am never short of pictures ,,
Thank you Renie Ranvin..
is the core job
of this gun
love to shoot it
the only place
this gun fails
is on home
of making money
the agony and ecstasy
of a poet
also known as
on the range
on the run
within a hope
with no options
Of late all media photo journalists get a great kick shooting the mosquito killer guy with his gun, and so I add my own pictures to show you the gun as the scourge of the mosquitoes we call them macchar..
And the memorable dialogue of NanaPatekar
Ek Macchar Admi ko Hijda bana deta hai..
Are we a nation of Hijdas I dont know the hijras is a community I hold in the highest esteem having documented their struggle hardships through picture and poetry as a genre I call hijra poetry all my stuff is housed at Flickr the only house online without walls or doors only Windows.
And I love shooting this gun only if it existed in rel life and could remove corruption , evil in society it would be a blessing in disguise.
And I only if such a gun existed the government buys it through the known channels and not the CWG Purchase department for obvious reasons , they might go into option and change and disable the factory settings permanently to allow corruption..
And thank the Lord the people concerned have finally got up from their stupor and taken the situation under their eagle hawk eyes in oxymoron haste.
I could easily write a poem here but I let it pass..my genre is unstructured poetry of human angst and pathos.
Wife and I broke our fast at the Moghul Masjid office we came in because of the heavy rains ..and we were destined to break our fast here because this is one Mosque that I believe were God lives ..
I have a confession to make and I am already into my 9 fast, I think Marziya takes her photography skills from my wife , I am an over stated street photographer who just likes to slave driver his camera without giving it rest like those guys now working on the Common Wealth Games sites blind folded without a watch and no calendar , so they have no clue of Time till the games the most hyped event finally begin..
And I am sure they will go off well we are achievers ..we are underdogs but we eventually win in spite of all odds and a loaded dice..
Well back to the picture the greater picture of my burka clad wife shooting me and these now Internationalized Bohra kids and their tryst with my destiny carved by a click on their fate by my wife.
What I like about my wife's picture taking she gives me respect but also the surroundings that ae part of the frame , dark spaces held in balance on both sides of the picture and my mind .. she sees it you cant.
She and Marziya shoot me well..they capture my poetic entrapping as an excess baggage besides my angst and anguish and my pictorial pathos.
And this was the day we both were caught in the heaviest down our without our umbrellas and it was the worst moment we were both drenched I borrowed a plastic bag to save my camera.
None of the cabbies wanted to go to Bandra because of the water logging.
We got a cab for Churchgare , but wife got off again at at Minara Masjid thinking we would get a cab from there but it was a grim situation and it was bad though the rains had stopped for a while.
We walked wet from Minara Masjid to Crawford Market luckily got a bus for Bandra and reached home very late.
I was in town again this morning for a dead relatives majlis at Moghul Masjid , the person a very close relative of my youngest sons wife , a few days back got up to begin his fast, completed his namaz and literally dropped dead due to a massive stroke before he could be rushed to the hospital he was about 50 years old.
These are pictures I love to shoot all one and the breaking of the fast on the roads in the lanes in restaurant , dhabbas is the greatest moment of remembering God bounty generosity and his Glory.
the first time she shot me
seriously hit me in the eye
it was her presence
in a school uniform
at Akbari Gate
a panwalas shop
I wont deny
she was to leave for
her husbands home
the next day
after the Nikah
for the city
of love and hope
to be a good husband
I wanted to marry
an American woman
a momentary aberration
of a dreamer blogger poet
beaten by the kids
I am now safely
by her side
by her side
by her side
so in short
shot me again
at Minara Masjid
I thought dreamily so
marriage is nothing
but going up
one heck of a
roller coaster ride
my wife the
neighbors wife's envy
dedicated to sukhi hontus whose comment at Facebook on this picture inspired this poem ...
Sukhi Hontu Your beautiful wife is a good shooter!
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This is attitude and no photographer could shoot a photographer like this and sometimes it requires love passion dedication not just to photography but to the photographer in this case me and so the person who shot me baring my soul is a woman who always considered photography my mistress and than came the internet and the blogs my two illegitimate children and this woman who shot me bore it all in sheer womanly silence ..
The woman is none other than my wife Afshan Shakir grand mother of Marziya Shakir two and a half year old with the world in her pockets.
My wife has patiently seen my blow my fortune away and it hits her badly , cameras rolls lenses filters and whatnot ..and than came Marziya and Photography got an extension and a new lease on life.
And this World Photography day I dedicate to my wife you need a compatible accommodating wife to let you unleash your street pathos .. on the soul of Humanity.
Her only grouse was I am yet to make a Rupee through my photography.. but as I became a cosmic poet through photography she excuses my aberration under a few curses that are part of hate love syndrome called Marriage.
So I wish all of you a very Happy World Photography Day.
138,358 items / 1,071,231 views
The goat was hungry and had gobbled the letters IS ..
He was one hungry goat and the only one not afraid of the might of Israel..
I will not write anything more my best friend is a Jew..
And the goat too will one day be chopped to appease the soul of religiosity on Bakra Idd..
So these are poetic gems you get when you wander the roads with your third eye in place .. between our two useless eyes.
Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
Ek Shahenshah Ne Banake Yeh Haseen Tajmahal Ham Gareebon Ki Mohabbat Ka Udaya Hai Mazak.. , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Fli...