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Thanks to all of you and everyone of you including the dudes at Flickr Facebook Twitter Word Press and Blog spot ..including Google Search Alpha Inventions Indi Blogger ..
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I have shot this group since many years we meet in and around the Bandra bazar or the slums , they are also known as Hijra impostors as they are not full fledged hijras I am told but we get along well they give me respect I give them respect too..
My pictures are being upoaded at Flickr as I go abut my work, than when I come home I add tags description or a poem depends on the creative juices of the state of my mind.
I had got of at the Bandra Talao a noted place for masseurs pimps whores and male prostitutes ..in the night time of course this place is an insult to the cityscape of Bandra all the dregs of human society gambling taxi drivers is what you get too see..it has totally gone to seed this lung of the Bandra Queen has got perforated for good.
The ear cleaner is my good friend we have known each other for many ears and this is another community I love to shoot and ear cleaning is like a sexual act using the ear as a erogenous zone I will leave it that before you think I have a one track mind.. sometimes one has to let loose .
I shot the hijras too in this lot but I shall come to that later and Ramzan comes to an end in a day or two .
Marziya will celebrate Idd with her maternal grand parents this year.
I will miss her immensely and her latest rant is Main Marziya Shakir Salman Khan Hoon and if Salman Bhai reads this Marziya Shakir two and a half year old photographer would love to shoot him too with my Nikon D 80 camera.
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if i posted this
in a salon photography
competition
i would get
the boot
by judges
in arty
fab india
kurtas
including those
dressed in full suits
photography fucked
forever by
renaissance roots
fine arts
Sodom and Gomorrah
as offshoots
see their brochures
unreal pictorial
muck and soot
for reality
they care two hoots
while the soul
of those who see
this year after year
has gone blind
deaf and mute
a picture
must read
like a poem
to add to its
pictorial
fortitude
holistically heal
whether you shoot
nature still life or nude
what say you dude
you will be rewarded
by the government of India
when you turn
99 in your living grave
forgive me for
being rude
but such is life
at every step
you are screwed
man can live without art
can he live without food
where angels fear to tread the street photographer intrudes in the beginning of the end just another interlude
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jesus whispered
in my ears
firoze i wish
you would teach
me street photography
like marziya
i know i cant afford
a nikon or a canon
st peters church
my voucher
wont clear
so for the moment
shoot pictures
on my behalf
of the people
passing by
as i hang here
then i saw
his cheeks
wet with my tears
so now you
know why jesus
on a muslim bloggers
photo space
loving revealingly
appears
as jesus poetry
month after month
year after year
now would they hang this picture on a salon wall no way my dear
they would without seeing or reading it dump it at the Ballard pier
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this is the mindset
of muslims
not her fault
ramzan is only a singular
month worth mans salt
once ramzan gets over
its back to life's revolt
faith destiny
nut and bolt
charity piety
till the next ramzan
will be locked up
in a vault
tell me i am wrong..
i will do 100 somersault
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the glaring
HMI lights
of corruption
the cinemascopic
rape of the nation
CWG scams
murder mayhem
molestations
read and seen
all over the world
thanks to
sanctimonious media
is completely condoned
as the child begs
at traffic signals
the soul of my camera
moaned groaned
so tears on the soul
of humanity
i loaned
on the consciousness
of the high flown
let them see that
beneath
their feet
lies a child's destiny
stunted miserable
is this life
they want to clone
withered flesh and bone
homeless home alone
dark morbid monotone
raste pe bhik mangta
bachpanna
ma tujh pe kurban
tere paison
main hai chule
ki jan
inka bhavishya
yeh hai hamare
kal ki pehchan
kan kan main
bhagwan
nanhe munne
insan
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my head
stuck
in a toilet bowl
swiping my ass
with scented
CWG toilet roll
source of my poems
pictures my fucked
creativity
the unknown hole
i blog so i am
is that my only goal
a dead indian
crucified
on his totem pole
unpublished poems
fleshed
on my hungry soul
This is Not Toilet Humor
one dead
dying
on a reservation
a nations cry
a nations loss
dont shed tears
for crazy horse
the good Indian
a dead Indian
like jesus
carrying
his karmic cross
blood sweat and tears
a history paused
guns and roses
a brand endorsed
they shoot horses
dont they
pain and remorse
an effect without a cause
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I have a huge lot of pictures of the Vartak Nagar Dahi Handi that I have to post I shall do it once I finish a few pending uploads of mine..
