Wednesday, December 8, 2010
155,084 items / 1,219,472 views
in the cab seated
yes it was for
a minutes pleasure
that he cheated
depleted a tryst
with a transvestite
now a chapter
badly ill treated
over and over again
ps my poetry shop has no shutters ...a thought conceded
155,084 items / 1,219,463 views
the feet of woman
another man cries
one doomed another one dies
at the mercy of her charity
at her doorstep he lies
learn to fly from
a moving cab
i see what
you would never see
a picture i poetize
pictures pickled as truth
a drug that gives a high
somethings in life
you sell somethings
you 'cannot buy
your mothers blessings
the tear in her eye
155,080 items / 1,219,456 views
some become taxi drivers
some become sharukh khan
'masters 'of their fate
some endlessly wait
at the doors of destiny
with an empty plate
they come to mumbai
city of corrugated dreams
from every town and state
the bangladeshi tantric
with a counterfeit ration card
pan card passport
little innocent girls bait
everybody on times
kismet aur khali pet
mumbai the city
they love and hate
power a political gate
corruption scams to mate
the non actors
bombs that detonate
builder political nexus
escalating real estate
criminals a system
This Santa Was So Horny He Made Kids Sit On His Laps, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
155,072 items / 1,219,159 views
now the only guy that could play santa
fat funny jovial was a harmless chap
tyres round his waist lot of flap
many years back the local
whore had given him the clap
he was still caught in time wrap
now he was hitting back
at the system from scrap
libidinous leaking tap
he was jobless cash strapped
he played santa as stop gap
high blood pressure
over excited he gasped
shaking wobbling red cap
swollen feet kneecap
double chin ear flap
not just santarchy
he was caught in a
karmic death trap
he had cheated
the local whore
she had cut of
in his jockstrap
this santa was an
australian racist poet
also known as hubcap
a poet hunter racist poet
he hated Indians
from the land of the
rising sun on the map
What If The Eunuchs Were Given A Chance To Run Our Country, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
155,054 items / 1,218,994 views
Their beat revolves as beggars between the two Bandra signals , Turner Road and the Pamposh Linking Road Signal.
Most of them know me as I meet the on the cross roads of life..they think I am crazy shooting them , for no rhyme or reason , some think I am tantrik trying to rob them of the last vestige of their remaining manhood or womanhood whatever you wish to call.
Because I carry a camera because I meet them I shoot them and besides I have a hijra website that needs to be updated too from time to time.. and to bring their cause to the forefront.
I shoot them as human beings without lasciviousness .I show you a hijra as a hijra and as a hijra only.
And I am sure if they were given a chance to run the country they would do a more efficient and clean job, and here I will give my fecund poetic imagination rest .. yes I would not mind by being ruled by eunuchs for a change.
I know one thing that religiously the eunuchs would have solved the Babri mosque imbroglio without even going to court as their motto is Sarv Dharm Ek ..All Religions are One ..
And the eunuchs are philanthropist worthy of Sigma Six status.. they are neither men nor woman and yet they are both..
Perseverance handwork sincerity honesty are qualities you learn from the early settlers of Mumbai the Koli women a very intrepid race proud and humble too..
The Muslim Lady Is Simply A Prop For The Muslim Man, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
155,072 items / 1,219,070 views
And these are my personal views as a street photographer of the women I shoot , for the Muslim girl her life of hardships begins when her parents try to palm her of to the first bidder as the Muslim girl is risk prone and a constant liability.
Marriage is a game of chance and a loaded dice a good man may bring relief to her cycle of pain , but the few I have shot have et with marital mishaps and end up begging on the streets , rehabilitation is a though far away from the Muslim collective ethos..
The Muslim woman I speak locally is machine produce kids keep the miya happy , his family happy , and this is the situation in the slums and the makeshift houses on the streets where they dwell.
So every year when I shoot the Eid Namaz I show you the angst of the poor Muslim beggar woman face concealed and begging hands that will forever be begging till their times change and the mind set of the community changes.
The Muslim man is more interested in buying a rich goat , making his eid full of pomp and austerity is the core of the poor ...
I document my surroundings and this is what I have been seeing as a street photographer since almost 6 years ..so now you know why I dont shoot sunsets , birds in flight or the moods of insects..I shoot pain I shoot human life and bring out the pain in the open on the internet ..
Society has to take their cause froward and the government too once it gets time away from scams and other issues that plague good governance.
Zindagi Ke Safar Main Guzar Jate Hain Woh Makam Phir Nahi Ate, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
This was a very quick shot and most of my street pictures I shoot from the back a perspective of life on the move, I carry the camera most of the time and dont hesitate to shoot what my mind triggers , impulsively..my pictures are bouts of street craziness as captured by my chaotic mind..I use full frame and it includes eternity as it exists .. as a poetry of the drama of life.
I dont mix I stay to myself far away from congregational ethos of man , i dont socialize I just work and my pictures are my moments before and after work shot as street cameos.
I sit at home and my lap top is my best friend keeps me occupied at home Marziya adds to the extra zest in life with her tattle and her non stop chat.
My House Imambada On The First Day Of Moharam Chand Nikla Hai Mahe Aza Ka, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
155,058 items / 1,219,001 views
My daughter Samiya and my elder daughter in law did the first matam,in the absence of my wife who is in Damascus , she has gone for Ziyarat or spiritual tour , and I can imagine that though close to the Roza of Bibi Zainab her heart might wander homeward for a fraction of a moment .
The house Imambada has been decorated by my elder sons wife and the Alams are part of our family heirlooms in old silver polished a few days back..it is a small Imambada that houses our Shia spirituality.
I shot two frames and the first ladies matam goes like this at my house ..
ahle emon main gul hai buka ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
kyon na matam ho shahe huda ka , chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
dushmanone watan se nikala hai yasranb main rehne na paya
hai safar main wali ab khuda ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
ro ke bola mazare nabi pe waqt e ruksat yeh zehra ka dilbar
asman mujhpe tuta jafa ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
kabr main apni le lo payambar zindagi es jahan main hai dhubar
zulm karta hai dushman khuda ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
inki bayt ka talib fasik ho gaya hai ab yeh kafir munafik
kaise razi ho nayab khuda ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
ma ki turbat se bole lipatkar amma hota hai ruksat yeh dilbar
bar uthta nahi hai jafa ka chand nikla hai mahe jafa ka
kaun shama jalayega akar kaun kuran padega lahad par
hai safar yo se benwa ka chand nikla hai mahe jafa ka
umme hani puphi shahe ki boli en dino hai jinon ki yeh ahen
sher unme hai ah oh buka ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
mujkho ata hai vaswas beta tark kar do irada safar ka
sama ho na ranj o bala ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
umme salma jo nani thi shage ki ro ro kehti thi sarwar se woh bhi
rukh na karna kabhi karbala ka chand nikla hai mahe aza ka
155,040 items / 1,218,982 views
I dont know why I shoot barbers but yes I shoot barbers at grass root level the people I shoot cant afford hair stylists for sure , and so I shoot this roadside hair cutting saloon on my way to work.. he is used to my Alfred Hitchcock cameo , forcing myself to the frame I shoot .. a silhouette of a blogger in the street mirror of life.
For those of you who have recently added me as friend I dont celebrate my birthday at all, firstly because my childhood friend who studied for a short while with me at Holy Name High School Fort died on the day I was supposed to have been born,I have not got over his death till date my dear departed friend Ramesh Anna or Ramesh Alva.
The other reason i wont be celebrating my birthday or any happy Indian feast day is because I am in the midst of Moharam ,which for us Shias , I am a Shia too , is the greatest period of tragedy , we mourn for Imam Hussain and this continues for two month eight days ,, the two important days in the Shia calendar are Ashura and Chehlum....and the last day before Moharam gets over called Athvi.. the day Moharam gets over and the Shias get over the mourning is known as Eid E Zehra Mother of all Eids ,,
As a practicing Shia I only wear black clothes no white or grays no other color or monotone, no music no celebrations at all ..
The only problem I am having this time is the fact I dont know which city to shoot for Ashura this year , last year I shot Hyderabad , I did try to connect with guys in Tamilnadu to shoot Moharam in Chennai , but I am in two minds as I dont know anyone in Chennai I mean Shia folks.
So I might just shoot Moharam in Mumbai, and I miss my American friend Dr Glenn Losack who would give away all his wealth just to come to India and shoot Moharam..but he is stuck in the karmic wheel of his pain..poetic and real.
Jalal my Shia friend from China too wanted to know when I would upload my Moharam pictures Jalal is from Lucknow and we have been friends on the Internet for over 6 years , we have not met in real life as yet. His father is the eminent poem Kazim Saab and he is directly related to Maulana Agha Roohi.
I have a Shia site Shah Ast Hussain , but I dont post all my stuff there and now in the background my daughter Samiya and my elder daughter in law are doing matam.. the first day of Moharam, Chand Nikla hai Mahe Aza Ka and Marziya is beating her chest and my wife must be doing the same at Bibi Zainabs Roza in Damascus..
So this is a blog it cannot come to life without a picture , I did not know what I would write the mouse moves freely ..encapsulating words into memories and emotions.
Kaun Shama Jalayega Aakar ..Chand Nikla Hai Mahe Aza Ka .. 'Hussain Hussain Hussain
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