My 5 month old grand daughter Nerjis Asif Shakir loves the Nikon D 80 and is fascinated by the flash..though I hate in built camera flash or any flash for that matter ..
My time at home is spent around Nerjis Asif Shakir , and we hit off very well , coming home after work for lunch is a break that keeps me in touch with her , later when I come home once work ends I hold her in my arms teach her to speak...and her touch heals me completely I feel spiritually rejuvenated ..
The Disciple and the Guru, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. Mr Gautam Sen is a senior photographer , a very humble down to earth person I have tried to emulate since the time I began photo journalism, Gautam Da is a remarkable man, a selfless soul helping guys like me on the streets of photography, he is unlike the modern brat of a new breed of photo journos , who carry conceit , arrogance and attitude , I have met a lot of then , have had skirmishes too..and they hate bloggers like me, for reasons I cannot fathom..all they have is a high end Press Card,,,and high end company sponsored cameras and lenses.
This photo was shot by another humble low profile photographer Sajjad Hussain AFP from Srinagar.
Gautam Da is what dreams are made of ..he is the soul of humility at all times.
I had not seen him since a very long time ..so this was a pleasant meeting indeed.
ME -In a Maze of Memories, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. going barefeet at the taj burning hot marble floor I wont ever forget hassled by the security for looking like a terrorist my only regret wife her mother me at agra jab we met today back in my corner at mumbai connecting my angst on the internet all around chaos mumbai under attack mumbai under siege mumbai under a terrorist threat the gateway of India where I studied as a kid learning to swim how can I forget later working at Burlingtons of Bombay the Taj Mahal Hotel my filmy set Madame Pompadour Gazdar Jewellers me selling scarf dresses tuxedos silks and georgette forever in Andre Kapur Mrs Gupta and Mr Calebs debt a burning inferno the old lady of the taj we all Mumbaikars the rest of India terribly upset a lesson to be learnt that more important than banning gutka booze and cigarette is the nations security a war a stage set to get rid of terrorism its ugly silhouette innocent lives lost the gunned down poli…
Al-‘Abbās ibn ‘Ali (Arabic: العباس بن علي) (born 4th Sha‘bān 26 AH – 10 Muharram 61 AH ; approximately May 15, 647 – October 10, 680) was the son of ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib (fourth Rashidun Caliph and first Shī‘ah Imām) and Fātimah bint Hizam al-Kilabiyyah (commonly known as: Ummul Banīn - Mother of the Sons).
Al-‘Abbās is particularly revered by Shī’ah Muslims for his loyalty to his half-brother and third Shī’ah Imām, Husayn ibn ‘Alī, his respect for the Ahl al-Bayt, and his role in the Battle of Karbalā. He was known as the greatest warrior in Arabia and mirrored the strength of his father, ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib.
After being told by the archangel Gabriel about what would happen to his grandson Husayn at Karbalā, Muhammad informed both Fātimah and ‘Alī. After the passing away of Fātimah, ‘Alī asked his brother ‘Aqīl to search a wife for him of courageous descent, who would bear him a…
The Ring Master and the Eunuch, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. each wary of the other playing games trying their luck one a blogger the other a eunuch in a one way passage both find themselves stuck the blogger shooting the hijra angst walking barefeet in the muck the hijra pendulous shake of her buttock looks at his barefeet and says yuck destiny running amok a heaving chest of the hijra now a mountain once a hillock frivolously passing the buck pectoral palpitation resting in a hammock doe eyed dumbstruck a missing womb a pregnant pause of the eunuchs masculine stomach
once barefeet now with shoes he tries meditatively to touch the sky clipped wings captive imagination he learns to fly hijras of turner roads who called him malang wonder why a badasaab clone suited booted muted he lives a lie searching for wisdom with pigs in a sty a noose of surrender no neck tie his vision held in a camera as shivas thirds eye his tryst with destiny once his freedom he bids goodbye
I am re leaning street photography, the hijras of Turner road respect me touch my feet but think I have gone mad ..the urchins at Globus wonder why/..I wear shoes I am enslaved ...to my fucked fate I am a badasaab...