Thursday, March 17, 2011

Hijras at The All India Hijda Sammelan Park Site Vikhroli Mumbai

176,148 items / 1,378,081 views

The kids in the picture were from the neigboring slums as excited and curious about the hijras as anyone else.

But I was the cynosure of all hijra eyes this was my first time so to speak coming out to shoot the hijras in their den...

And it is not easy shooting pictures dressed like me..some thought I was out to steal their souls some called me Behrupiya or government spy ...keeping tab on the hijra community some though I had nothing on my mind but to fuck hijras.. a thought that shamed me as a poet and a human being too.. hijras are exotic hybrid fruit seasonal too for those connoisseurs gourmands who love hijra sexuality ..and partake in it.

My hijra documentation was to educate inform about hijra life up close through a street photographer and a street poets eyes nothing more nothing less..

And much water has flown under the bridge since I shot the All India Hijda Sammelan I have matured as a photographer as I was fresh when I shot these pictures my earliest tryst with the camera and the hijras too.

I shot beggar hijras at Versova Juhu signal yesterday but have a lot of pictures to upload I have deliberately kept them on hold ...refurbishing my hijra set at Flickr Dot Com.. now aptly renamed as Hijda Eunuch Blogs at Flickr Dot Com.

Mona Child Eunuch The Upcoming Point Shoot Photographer

176,148 items / 1,378,075 views

Mona is a born eunuch..he was given away to the hijras the night he was born ..his foster parents are rich Babita Hijra and Gopal Haji he has another sibling Nandini a eunuch child too.

I have been shooting them since a long time when I meet them during the Urus of Ajmer Sharif and the recently concluded Urus of Haji Malang.

Mona is the tough one street smart and is the Guru of Raveena the Hijra Seductress ..Mona is ver moody and is temperamental gets upset and angry very past,.

Both are pampered children and lucky mascots of the Najafgarh Hijra community of Delhi.

Their screen idols are Sanjay Dutt and Salman Khan.

The Midas Touch of Pain

176,148 items / 1,377,802 views

the hijra
about her past
once a nice
sweet boy
now an outcast
the Midas touch
of pain
how long will it last
the dye is cast
of memories
the next forecast
a nuclear blast
says the voice
on TV
the blaring
the hijra aghast
tears on the
soul of japan
a glaring contrast
nature in all its finery
a nation
the destiny of man
in a single stroke
of cruelty a nation
but the resurgence
of man
always steadfast
he rises
each time he falls
the will
of man cannot
be bypassed
he stands
out there
his soul could
not be gassed
the test of survival
he has surpassed

The Hijra Super Models On A Rampage

The Hijras Cup of Sorrow

176,148 items / 1,377,500 views

man made
sculpted silently
woven sorrow
on a loom
boxed in airtight
a feminine ferocity
musky man woman
like perfume
a bride for the
reluctant bridegroom
the hijra on a path
of androgynous
animosity and doom
for the elusive
mothers womb
her trans gender
tragedy a painful
buried standing
in her tomb
only a handful
of tears
when she
is exhumed

The Hijra Heart Is Too Fragile

176,148 items / 1,377,423 views

without mischief
without any guile
sensitive tactile
lives for a moment
dies after a while
a lurking fear
beneath her smile
simplicity serenity
her inborn style
a vacuous thought
once penile
corrupted file
a thumbnail
for a profile
from a man
into a woman
nebulous nubile
slithering sorrow
androgynous reptile
hijra that society
defiles her pain
as a poem
thus compiled
the hijra
a gender
in exile

Jab Hijde Par Budhapa Ata Hai

76,148 items / 1,377,218 views

chehre ka nikhar
chala jata hai
tevar badalne
lagte hain
sar par safed
balon ka pahad
chad jata hai
jhuriyan jali
ki tarah
nak naksha
badal jata hai
adab aur
dahleez par reh
jati hain
baki sab
chut jata hai
lut jata hai
jab kambakht
hijde par ata hai
doodh ka doodh
pani ka pani
kar jata hai

Shooting Hijras In The Rain

176,148 items / 1,377,207 views

to the bone
all wet
in view
the umbrella
cock teasing
the hijra
but new
as i watched
all this
at the traffic
my lens
all strewed
cars honking
blaring music
the traffic cop
like a dumb
me in
my male
the shivering
hijra too
to a frozen
me barefeet
in a puddle
of hope
without shoes
a love scene
as an excuse
a tapestry
of wet emotions
her wet saree
her nubile body
her nipples
all see through
a flickering
of come hither
she threw
it is your poetry
that makes me
love you
i forgot
for an instant
my wife had
her window shopping
unaware to my lovemaking
wretchedly she came
to my uncalled rescue
like her pet poodle
my tail between
my legs
from the wet
of my unfulfilled
dark desires
i withdrew

The Incomplete Woman of Substance

176,148 items / 1,377,199 views

her sadness
is ancestral
as a poet
is all i cam tell
her world
mirage like
two sided
both heaven and hell
her life not so well
caught in the throes
of a demonic spell
the story of a hijra
neither man
nor woman
in a nutshell
her pain
even time
wont quell
her body
she sometimes
sells her soul
on a long tern loan
the pathos poetry
of a hijra belle
a cause of
an unrelenting rebel
hit by fates
explosive shrapnel
into a karmic
she was propelled
every time she rose
every time she fell
a part of her
lies submerged
like a penny
in a wishing well

A Woman

A Woman, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

176,148 items / 1,377,196 views

Sure God created man before woman. But then you always make a rough draft before the final masterpiece. ~Author Unknown

god was tired
he needed rest
he created man
he created woman
he did his best
but something
was missing
a thought
he could not
get off his chest
so from the
angst of man
also a creator
came the
soul of the hijra
a silhouette
of a woman
riding the crest
she passed
the test
two spirit
so many shades
the hijra gave birth
in a cuckoos nest
a host also a guest
i shot her as a woman
my tribute to her
acquired womanhood
no more no less
no please
dont google search
for my hijda
eunuch blogs
at wordpress
they died
suddenly solemnly
in a gas chamber
a cancerous abscess
a change of address

this poem is dedicated to Matt Mullenweg —
aka Photo Matt I must digress
humility is as important as sweet success
poetically my pain here i express
a bejeweled barefeet bareassed
poet in a strange headdress

Hijra Was Created From a Mans Groin

soothingly savored
fruitfully flavored
willfully wayward
from the loins of lust
seminally slavered

The Hijra Waits Endlessly

from the
soul of slavery
one day
to be ultimately free
one of the branches
of a hope
giving tree
that myopic man
calls humanity

Jab Khuda Husn Deta Hai Jawani Ub Jati Hai

176,148 items / 1,376,534 views

kinara lagne se pehle
kashtii dhoob jati hai
bhulane ki koshish lak ki
yadein khub ati hain
ghar ke darwaze se
jab mehboob ki
lash jati hai

Once A Hijra Always a Hijra

176,148 items / 1,376,487 views

a gender split
neither man
nor woman
but gifted
every bit
woman's heart
a woman's soul
a woman's
a woman's grit
in place
of woman's tits
no menstrual
the missing clit
no womb
no ovaries
an empty pit
in web
of deceit
to her fate
she submits
the hijra angst
ying and yang
closely knit
the final slit
in death
hara kiri
she must
the hijras obit
her fucked fate
she could not
born a man
a shadow
of death
in a ladies

The Hijras Call

176,148 items / 1,376,434 views

as a little
he played
with dolls
little boys
their games
he did not
like at all
one night
by his uncle
painful assault
being feminine
his only fault
repeated attacks
that would no halt
than one day
he ran away
the hijra call
an unrepentant
hijra doll
another broken
brick in the wall
on her feet
now stands tall
with cotton
ladies balls
clapping her
all in all

An Enigma Called The Eunuch

176,148 items / 1,376,403 views

a genie
in a fragile
glass bottle
his androgynous
slithering soul stuck
his karmic sorrow
cosmic bad luck
to be a woman
of substance
the pain
the pathos
of the eunuch
on the soul
of humanity
a sitting duck
a headless chicken
they love to pluck
rape sodomize
brutalize and fuck
born in the darkness
of restless mans soul
when lightening struck
doomed destiny
nothing works
used abused
by libidinous jerks

Time is a river, it is irrelevant, what counts is the thought.

176,148 items / 1,376,351 views

These are words of a dear friend from Japan I am immortalizing on the soul of this hijra mentioned earlier these images are not fresh from the oven , they were baked years back posted hurriedly at forgotten .I dont know why I am musing over them after almost 5 years or more, I am bad with dates but all these ladies were shot in their glitzy glamor at the All India Hijda Sammmelan Park Site Vikhroli.

This was my earliest tryst with so many hijras at one given place one given time and I shot like a man possessed all this in 4 or 5 hours.

Most of these hijras I shot I never saw them again whether it was Haji Malang or Ajmer Sharif.. and I have yet not shot the Eunuch festival at Koovagam it eludes me fatalistically ..Lord Iravan is not ready for me as yet.

I am a simple photographer if you exclude my sartorial serendipity as part of my picture taking.. I hardly talked to the hijras those days , being selfishly monosyllabic , actually I was the cynosure of their curiosity all dressed in saffron , long hair bejeweled attitude and all.

And luckily there was no crowds or media at this hijra haven on earth...

The hijra poetry is accidental unswervingly trespassing on the drama of the hijras life of or poor the hijras life is pain simply because he is or she is incomplete in the cosmic viciousness of gender ambiguity.

I have shot the hijra from the periphery of his pain , and as poet I was drawn into the consciousness of their androgynous soul.. I was not excited by their sexuality I shot them without desire as a painter shooting a nude model as visual poetry nothing more nothing less.

And I shot them with respect the hand revolving around hijra tits was to show you that even barren branches can bear fruits.. strangely the gay activist read me wrong ...and one has to love poetry to read poetry yet is easier being a fool than being a cosmic beggar poet like me.

I dont think poetry I write poetry the words come from a fountain that has yet not run dry...and this is for my dear friend Uwe Pascen of Japan.. the title of my poem are his words..

time is a river
mercilessly flows
tide after tide
it hits the shores
to remind man
of his minuscule
to nature
his friend his foe
when he hits
he hits
so hard and loud
all over
the soul of
a new pain
ebb and flow
purple haze
acid rain
in deathly
bleeding poetry
weeping prose
a hijra poem
my words froze
human remedy
nuclear dose
pain pathos
so far
so close
but the
holistically healing
power of man
each time
he rose