Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The Dumping Graveyard of Democracy Demystified

155,026 items / 1,218,382 views

the smell the filth
you know the rest
bandra bazar market
the ugliest where disease
pestilence has its nest
now this is the place
in bandra the queen of
the suburbs be my guest
the only time politicians
visit this place is during
election time all the best
or during independence day
to hoist the national flag
a hand firmly
clasping the national emblem
on their breast
disgusting code of democracy
on test it is we who have 'elected
our leaders with whom
we are blessed
italian white linen
kurta pajama
gucci sneakers
over dressed
buildings hope along
with towers over
slums you have
guessed a system
'messed
kaun banega arbopati
is the name of
personal gains and progress
trampling the fucked soul
of the poor and the oppressed


location courtesy bandra bazar road market

Mind You Her Vote Will Count One Day

155,018 items / 1,218,157 views

her silence
has so much to say
sitting with her grandmother
selling vegetables on the street
everyday she learns wisdom
unfound in books or school bags
today..she reads the poetry
of my mind my thoughts
words she makes me say
mee mumbaikar majha bhavishya
ujwal ..i will rise like a phoenix
one day..i am iron in the soul
of my poetry though
made of papier mache and clay
through her eyes into
her future i found a fountain
i wished for her well being
i prayed gods godliness
lies in the child's heart
that out of his own heart
god made

Marathi Manoos The Past The Future and the Present

155,018 items / 1,218,132 views

selling vegetables
her life in dignity
handwork
she has spent
honest sincere
she voted
for a better future
'governments came
governments went
piggy riding on her
vote boys from her
area to the parliament
she sent a few years
from now her grand daughter
will be selling vegetables too
our bhajiwali bai her face wizened
old back bent but mind you
she is happy uncomplaining content
aiee wadilancha ashirwad
she says part of her lifes mantra
her success to a large extent
through a picture a message
of peace humanity localized well meant
jai maharashtra a slogan of pride
of our heritage 100 percent

The Bhajiwali Bai and Her Grandchild

155,016 items / 1,218,126 views

She is pucca Maharashtrian and for ages selling vegetables at the Bandra Bazar Market , from one generation to the next, as I have a grand daughter too , I would wish her well , that she gets too study and rise above head and shoulders of her grand mother.

Now selling vegetables is their family trade , and it passes on but at the same time education too is important and here the focus is on the future of the grand child , and this is the duty and obligation of the state and the society she lives in.

Most of the girls in their community even after marriage sell vegetables going from home to home and have their regular customers..

I shoot their pictures to show your their lifestyle , their continue struggle to rise above all, and unfortunately as the prices of real estate in Bandra have shot up so most of these people living in joint families will sell their properties to land shark and move northwards or go back to their home towns.

Most of these families live in Bandra gaothans back lanes eyed by the politician builder nexus as lucrative offering to build towers on the shanties where they live..Bandra has changed over the years and I document this change through my street pictures.

Fashion Style and The Winding Sheet

155,015 items / 1,218,094 views

he sells cloth
fabric on the street
he has seen life
in good times
bad times
in victory in defeat
sitting at bandra bazar road
in the rains humidity and heat
eking a living without
being a burden on society
his life a lesson to others
a life honest sincere complete
stripes checks plain printed
shirt pieces trouser lengths
sharp and neat
make drain pipes jodhpurs
or with or without pleat
fashion and style
with the upper crust compete
the poor man a born dreamer
his fate he could never cheat
he also sells white cloth bought from
mecca the kafan or muslim
winding sheet ..ironical substitute
in the world of fashion
a poetic thought gratifying
soul satisfying but sweet
allah ho akbar yeh kaisi
har or jeet

The Muslim Cloth Seller of Bandra Bazar Road



155,012 items / 1,218,080 views

My world of photography is a pond where I live swim and survive shooting the denizens that live around me , my pictures are a tribute to these great souls in sheer humility and gratitude.

And those who are part of my pictures wont even see their pictures unless someone shows it to them on the Internet ,,,and really they would not even bother about such stray thoughts.
I dont give copies of the pictures I shoot I dont go to a photo studio at all, I dont even make copies of my grand daughter Marziyas pictures I shoot as simple as that.

I would want to give out copies but it is a back breaking tedious task, consider me lazy ..I shoot pictures impulsively , pushed by a inner force , I passed him he smiled I came back and shot him.

I call him Chahcha I dont know his name my pictures are as nameless as myself..I am simply known as a photographer by the kids they are my vote bank, stalking me to be shot and the kids I shoot have become more notoriously famous than me.

My hardcore fans are the kids of Bandra Chinchpokli road.

Back to Chacha , Chacha sells fabric that is sourced from the power looms of Bhiwandi cloth for the uncommon common street man, he sells trouser lengths and shirt pieces , I have bought fabric from him , for my dhoti pants but a very long time back, Chacha sits outside a coal shop on a charpoy while his clothes hang on a nearby wall and on the raised floor .

He sells because people like him , he is polite soft spoken and does not hardsell , you like it you take it, how much he earns I have never asked him , I am very bad as a journo, I cant write stories like them , I dont need to connive stories like them , I hate text I use it as and where applicable my comfort level is poetry, I poetize the pictures I shoot as and when inspired.

And as I live in this area my pictures are repetitiously revolving against this background, unless I go to town or Dadar or any outstation for work.

I could shoot other areas but I am not interested I am happy in the little pond where I live , I learn and hone my craft as a visual aid, I am without envy happy with my camera my two lenses and a singe flash I never use.

And I love to blog, blog about people whom you may never see physically , people who are the heroes of my pictures stores and strugglers of their lives eking a living without being a burden on society , this thought excludes beggars I shoot , beggars are a demand created by guilt laden society ...or the hijras the untouchables sprouting as weeds on the dead soul of humanity.

I mostly shoot from moving cabs or rickshas I shoot alone or with my grand daughter Marziya 3 year old accomplished street photographer too in her own league.

Marziya is an impulsive photographer and my model, a very thought provoking model .

She wakes up we go down to buy the newspaper , she leaves my hand walks up to the paper guy and pays him asking for HT ..yes we dont subscribe to Mumbai Mirror or Times of India at all.. sometimes we buy DNA or Midday.. sometimes only.

And yesterday I bought her a toy tortoise that has been part of her happiness and joy.. she calls him Bingo..the tortoise has a baby tortoise perched on its back, Marziya on getting the gift asked me to take her picture with Bingo..

So this is a blog it is a cure for the emptiness of my soul, a blog is a straight arrow that more often goes off tangent but connects in more ways than one.. and you dont need to be a Master in English to blog your thoughts and recreate them as a web log of raw human emotions.

Bad grammar and blogs sometimes part of the river of life on the internet because I shoot life in its barrenness ..my faults are forgiven I am sure I never liked Wren and Martin in school, my savior was Dondo my French text book in school.

And I think French people and Indians are karmically conjoined..

A Son Gives Birth To A Mother

Moharam Main Mamta Ka Khyal Ata Hai

gala sukh jata hai ghame hussain yad ata hai
apke liye naya sal hamare liye ek ma ka paigham ata hai
churi gardan pe chalti hai... yazidiyat ka tahkta palat jata hai
yeh woh naya sa hai jab hamara imam ata hai

Seniors Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Classroom Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Aiee Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Second Chance Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Lost Illusions Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

The Last Supper Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Miya Saab Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

The Wall of Life Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old

Shayan and Saif Shakir Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old..

To All Those Muslims Who Send Us New Year Greetings For Moharam

155,000 items / 1,217,850 views

Apni Taqdeer Jagate hain Tere Matam se
Khoon ki Rah Bichate hain Tere Matam se
Apne Izhare Aqidat ka Salika yeh hai
Hum Naya Sal Manate hain Tere Matam se

Eid Ul Fitr Namaz Bandra Station 2018

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