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Showing posts from October 22, 2010

Grandfather Shot By Marziya Shakir On Nikon D 80

Grandfather Shot By Marziya Shakir On Nikon D 80, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. 151,454 items / 1,161,143 views

This was shot by Marziya Shakir my grand daughter 2 years 11 month old who is recuperating from a viral illness called hand mouth foot disease a children s infection plaguing little ones , but her hands on the camera Nikon D 80 are as firm as ever and her pictures are always sharp, she shoots like a pro and more than the picture of the person she shoots his pain and the inner struggle of his human soul,, this is a karmic gift of her vision she shares through her pictures , I would rather exhibit her pictures than my own..

In a way she teaches me to Unlearn Photography.

And yes I taught her to shoot pictures with a blind fold ..shooting darkness and creating light.

No apertures
No fucked F stops
No fucked Cartire Bresson' s Decisive Moment

Just plain simple kundalini unleashing minimalist made in India shot in India photography by a child who understand th…

Carrying The Heritage of Late Mr Keshu Ramsay

Carrying The Heritage of Late Mr Keshu Ramsay, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. 151,409 items / 1,160,876 views

This morning I attended the funeral of Family friend producer and a good human being Mr Keshav Ramsay , he had died on 20 October but the funeral proceedings were kept in abeyance for Keshujis two sons who were to arrive from Toronto .

On their arrival all three brothers Dinesh Sagar and Mayur met relatives friends well wishers and most of all the erstwhile dedicated hardworking staff of DMS Films , the banner now rests in the able hands of Aryaman I am sure , the actor son of Keshuji.


I came here barefeet and was in the presence of Mr Raj Sippy Dadhooji who had seen Keshuji collapse and die of a sudden hear seizure at a relatives party.

He was rushed to the hospital but his time had come to leave for his heavenward abode.

All producers directors were here at Keshujis house to pay homage to his departed soul, but Bollywood bigwigs that had worked for Keshuji …

He Is One Butcher of Bandra Who Will Never Forget Me

He Is One Butcher of Bandra Who Will Never Forget Me, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. 151,408 items / 1,159,720 views

Many years back I worked for a reputed fashion store at Bandra ,I was a good worker with all my uncut flaws and because I stayed at Colaba my good boss gave me family accommodation at Bandra very close to actor Mr Mithun Chakrovartys house.

I loved dogs Alsatians I had two of them Sasha and Asper .., Asper was a German thoroughbred and Sasha was a mixed breed Alsatian..

My food for them came from Nasir bhai the famous butcher of JJ Colony Bandra and I spent a bomb on them those days early 80s and I paid the butchers bill which was sometimes more than my salary too , till the Big Boss where I worked had a humble change of heart and raised my salary.


My dogs when I moved out of the job and the company spacious flat I gave away to Mr Hitendra Thakur or Appa Saab as he is fondly called by the residents of Virar.
Appa Saab is brother of Mr Bhai Thakur.

I gave…

When Your Screen Time Gets Over Incomplete Movie of Life

When Your Screen Time Gets Over Incomplete Movie of Life, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1. 151,408 items / 1,160,691 views


the director
in his booming voice
shouts lights action cut
pack up no further shots
anymore
its time to take a bow
you leave empty handed
the shooting floor
only the make up
on your face
nothing more
not even
bollywoods
most wanted
designers clothes
you wore
or your fancy shoes
your fancy glares
you bought from
a fancy store
your wife who stood
by you like a
rock of Gibraltar
in a white starched saree
as the tear flows
down her cheeks
like a droplet of rain
as it pours
your sons all sad
broken helpless
lyrical silence
without a score
you came in through
a passage you
now leave
unannounced
through the back door
people you owed
already dead
much before
people who
owed you
have forgotten you
such is life at its core
dying was easy it was
living in a dead
unemotional world
that was a heart sore
you leave behind
your naked footsteps
a flickering
lamp on the sea shore