Saturday, April 9, 2011

If He Was Not A Hijra

179,281 items / 1,410,890 views

if he was not a hijra
he could have been
a peon working
in nationalized bank
a painter on a scaffolding
painting a building
standing on a plank
a news vendor
selling newspapers
midday at traffic
signals bold and frank
or a waiter at
an irani joint
serving keema pau
sulaimani chai
with thanks
if he was not a hijra
in red blouse
a printed saree
he could have
been a car mechanic
under the car
oiling engine and crank
or a petrol pump
help filling oil petrol
in car tanks
or a roustabout on a rig
swinging his tattooed
arms on the gangplank
he would not want to
be a neta taking the nation
for a ride
corruption and scams
corrupt bureaucrats
covering his flanks
he would not want
to be a policemen
some of whom
take hafta make love
to bar dancers
of their ranks
free biryani
free booze
they drank
in the eyes
of god
his people
each day
they shrank

so he is happy
as a eunuch
as a hijra in values
in humility everyone
even the rogue
religious man
he outranks
hijras on whom
as humans
you can bank

Scams And Corruption Are Two Main Pillars of Democracy

179,236 items / 1,410,252 views

to gain
the powerful
all meaning
are justified
though corrupt unfair
with power the soul
of the nation they scare
removing gods from the streets
but removing corruption
they do not care brotherhood
of politicians their own survival
more important for the common
man no time to spare they
make money generate wealth
swiss bank accounts benami
properties a common cause
a loot they share a corrupt system
its fangs its evil soul it bares
broken fences no one repairs
anna hazare the voice of the people
has finally dared to shake the
foundations of political empire
pulling the red carpet from
under their chair jantar mantar
choo mantar a war declare
a new revolution cleansing the
evil in democracy since
our greatest nightmare
gandhi has come back
from his grave to seek vengeance
a new freedom struggle netaji beware

Green is Color of Earth Blue is Color of Sky..Dont See Eye to Eye

179,280 items / 1,410,689 views

a cricket match
between two
neighboring countries
becomes politicized
two teams different colors
a war zone humanity
brutalized a sling
match of hate accusations
overriding sportsmanship
with over zealousness
as national pride
a national shame
a pain people
who want peace
now divided
as two warring sides
changing time and tide
no healing hands
no one to mend
broken fences
no mentor or guide
a painful pause
tears on
the soul of cricket
after the moment
has died

Fuck So What ?

179,280 items / 1,410,664 views

She is a beggar hijra a hardcore devotee of Lord Balaji, her fate in this Lord and Deity is unshakable , and unflinching , she leaves everything to visit his Holy Shrine at Tirupati..

She comes back bald, and once again hits the Turner Road Traffic Signal where she begs with her motley group, these are the lowest of the low in hijra hierarchy..but their pain their sufferings are part of their cosmic fate and karmic survival.

But beneath them are the hijra whores and commercial workers whose life is more degrading and AIDS prone , uncared totally neglected..and will they be availing of Multipurpose National Identity Card or Unique Identification card (UID Card)..I dont know..

I know this Lakshmi since many years she has not aged she has not changed earlier I would buy them sarees in a lot and give it to them I got then dirt cheap from the flea market at Duncan Street close to Chor Bazar , but than I stopped going to Chor Bazar and the Kamatipura flea market completely.. its been more than 3 years now or more.

I met her a few days back and she invites me to her shanty in Dharavi but I politely refuse she treats me like a elder brother , and respects me a lot, she will never ever ask me for money but waits till I give her something.

She is very polite very low profile and does not clap her hands or make obscene gestures and this goes for all the beggar hijras who man the Turner Road traffic Signal at Bandra close to Waterfield Road.

if he had not
become a hijra
a hypothetical thought
he would have been
a man not an in between
caught in miserable plot
on the streets as he begs
grovels and rots
handcuffed to a hijra slot
absolute zero absolute naught
misery that his fate has bought
a missing womb a missing twat
castrated cacophony
burning hot a stigma
a bleeding blot legs spread
face gagged by a pillow
as he gets fucked
on a creaky cot
used abused
in the hijra cages
or the parking lot
says sanctimonious
conscience of a racist
society dont
they fuck women
in whore houses
he is only a hijra
fuck so what?

"it's better to light a candle than curse the darkness" i

179,278 items / 1,410,652 views

it is much easier
to be proverbial blindly
quote what others have said
how can we remove a darkness
overspread over the hijras head
for centuries since time immemorial
he has been sodomized raped and bled
by society viral abusive insensitive dead
begging on the streets neither man nor
woman an apparition ghostly in a ladies
dress stalking his future ahead
made to whore in dark dungeons of delight
a single dim lamp a creaky bed
the monotonous feet dragging fan
overhead lying naked being
tilled like a dead field
where nothing can be sowed or bred
stalking him deliriously his fate
back bent doomed bleeding red
through pictures i light a candle
flickering in the wind fucked
forever with a chisel embedded
on the hijras forehead not the hijra
but the silhouette of man
cursing the darkness from
the shadows of his deathbed

Sleepless Nights Of Pain Poetry And Pathos

179,279 items / 1,410,655 views

so jaiye ratein waise bhi khaufnak hoti hain
takiye par sar rakha gilaf se kuch nahi kehti hain
apni siskiyan apni khamoshi waqt ka har sitam 'seh leti hain..
kya ham apko bhool payenge dam bhar ke liye ah bhar leti hain

Business is Bad Because All Have Gone To Jantar Mantar

179,277 items / 1,410,337 views

The street cobbler told me without interruption

they have taken their shoes slippers to hit on the face of scam and corruption...

Kash 'hum juda na hote Kabi alvida na kahte

179,271 items / 1,410,324 views

i died a million deaths because i loved you..

a poetic thought
passion pathos
on the crossroads of life
almost new a little seed
from which love on the soul
of humanity grew tilled
nurtured once ripe
by evils hands they slew
crucified nailed flesh
blood sinew a dripping
drop that broke free
became a poem of
life of for me and you
now once again
it is the same
crime being revisited
on the soul of man
his fate only
god can rescue
provided they know
his bloods true value

dedicated to friend called sadu
multicolored pain and hue

Some Books Should Not Be Judged By Their Covers..

I am a blog that cannot be read as a book

Green is Color of Earth Blue is Color of Sky..Dont See Eye to Eye

Homlessness Is A Poem Without Words

He Supplies My DNA And Hindustan Times

Jab Acha Waqt Ayega Mera Baccha Bhi School Jayega..

The Poor and The Rich.. Both Bitch..

Uncle Ab Bhik Nahi Mange Toh Kya Karein ?

Painted In Light And Shade

Jab Unka Phone Ata Hai

179,231 items / 1,410,205 views

ghisa pita dil
toota hua dil
gond se chipka
hua dil public
phone ban jata hai
kaleja munh
ko ata hai
ghabrata hai
sharmata hai
ho jata hai
soch main
pad jata hai
bahut door
sat samandar
par se jab unka
phone ata hai
meri zaban
par tala lag jata hai
nahi kehna pata hoon
jo kehna chahta hoon
ke main unhe
apni sans
ki kmashiyon
se zyada
main unhe
chahta hoon
woh bat aur hai
ke woh kisi aur ko
chahti hain
tuta hua dil
phir toot jata hai
kanch ke tukde
hue phir lakh
chatha hoon
jud nahi
pata hai
ruth jata hai
meri facebook
ke wall
par ek naya
ban jata hai
jab unka phone
kisi aur ke
cross connection
ka tar pyar yar
ban jata hai
Hmmm ok
deewar ban
jata hai

Old Shoe Shop Shot By Marziya Shakir 3 Year Old