Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Malang

The Malang, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

182,765 items / 1,444,886 views

old memories
his love
his affection
out of the
of her heart
she flung
her actions
on the soul
of a malang
like a bee
she stung
his pain
his poetry
his pathos
far flung
the end
of her
lal dupatta
from a fan
he hung
reciting prayers
to his holy saints
adler freud and jung
a poet who
lost his tongue
her presence
made him young
till the baton
of her childish
on his head
she flung
a malang
on a heap of
a cow dung
he died
she kissed
him back to life
made him write
another poem
than once again
from a tall crane
she re hung
a goddess
blessed with a
forked tongue
a surprise
on his dead soul
she sprung

Carlyta Sweetest Cutest Midday Mate

Carlyta is a very dear friend highly gifted talented human helping loving artist..and these few lines are for her

carlyta my cutest midday mate more beautiful than kate on my poetic soul like a bomb she detonates hook sinker line and bait to meet her i eagerly wait..a dozen mangoes in a crate to make her a part of my cosmic fate..a beggar poet standing at her gate..

but to my bad luck in wooing her I was late she has a better young robust dashing dynamic soul mate in every department he is great .

i am a beggar poet romantic archived but with good taste my muse has flown the coop .. leaving me behind post haste if i could find one better than my muse on my wretched heart i would cut copy and paste..my muse a warrior queen goddess bold faced a moment in hand i accidentally misplaced .. the only memory i have is her tooth brush tooth paste.. a goddess beautiful divine chaste ..a lingering pain on my poetry in blood she has traced.... my destiny she outraced..

My humble tribute to two women.. in the sphere of my affection time and space a connoisseur of beauty .a pain encased .rubbing my nose in the ground a poet debased ...instead of my muse it is mother earth i embraced a grave a tombstone asymmetrically perpendicularly placed.. death where is thy sting i still cant get over her beauty her wine glass waist.. as she tiptoes to recite a fatiah her steps equally spaced...snail paced...

a poet in repose a smirkish smile on his naughty face...

The Birth of the Worlds Youngest Street Photographer of Mumbai

182,764 items / 1,444,524 views

the destiny of
the camera
kisses her feet
marziya shakir
world youngest
born through
a camera shoots
the streets
no not barefeet
the next photographer no1
her grand father
dr genn losack md's
heart beat
a nikon d 80
round her neck
smart and sweet
through pictures
other people soul
she captures
once captured
she wont delete
what has age
got to do with
she is a full
a daring feat
on the streets
of bandra
you might
chance to meet
shooting beggars
hijras people
hands and feet
the essence
of photography
marziya shakir
smart and petite


Control Alt Delete

182,764 items / 1,444,371 views

i seek forgiveness
i grovel at her feet
but her stony
her stony heart
is impervious
to human sorrow
her heart
made of concrete
she does
not like people
who cheat
control alt delete
at her door step
with a beggar bowl
stands a poet beggar
barefeet with
a stony silence
she greets
her beauty
her divine form
her suffused
heart beat
head bowed
the warrior
he entreats
the closer
he comes
she retreats
the poet
in bleeding
winding sheet
in the winding
a lamppost
on her street
he is trying
very hard to meet
empty stomach
her thoughts
her memories
a fast unto death
his defeat
in her memory
he wont eat
his life without her
a cosmic circle

Marziya Shakir Child Born Of A Camera

182,764 items / 1,444,354 views

Marziya inherited the camera from the second day of her birth, and she toddled crawled walked her way through life the camera was always there as a idiom of her lifes precious moments I shot and shared..

And Marziya is today three and a half years old , she knows the Nikon D80 as she knows herself, she knows how to charge the battery, insert the memory card, insert the card in the card reader and into the computer port.

I had a film roll she wanted to know what it was I explained to her about the analogue camera and the present digital camera , she prefers shooting the streets with the camera on the monopod.. as the Nikon D 80 can be heavy on her her neck for long time.

And these are the earliest pictures of Marziya shot on the Canon G 9 that someone stole from me during Moharam.

Shreekant Malushte My Guru A Great Street Photographer

182,764 items / 1,444,338 views

Street photography is an art form, it is reading shooting the poetry of life on the streets , some call it candid photography.

Mr Shreekanth Malushte took me into the streets initiated me in this creative art form .. that defines mans nature his surroundings his passion poetry and his angst.

I am a poet and a street photographer I shoot pain , and I shoot pain as it is my second nature as a Indian born Shia Muslim..

It was Mr Shreekanth Malushte who honed me as a street photographer and my 182000 images at Flickr in 3 and a half years are the essence of his teachings , he nurtured me and in a way made me what I am.

Mr Shreekant Malushte is a young man why.. because what has age got to do with photography and photography keeps you young..makes you feel young.

If photography was a compulsory subject in school it would end all the strife wars in the world , photography is a holistic science a soul healing tool.

I may not have made a singe cent of my love of photography being a hobbyist photographer but I have entertained people with my surroundings my world my poetry and in all humility 20000 viewers come to my Flickr photo stream every day..

I shoot religion street and the hijras.. I am not a nature or wild life photographer , and Mr Shreekanth Malushe gave me the impetus and the necessary encouragement..

This is my humble tribute to him as his student chela and disciple...

मी मराठी Mee Marathi,

A Guru A Great Man Shreekanth Malushte

182,764 items / 1,444,322 views

Shreekanth Malushte is a piece of machinery created by God for the service of humanity .

It was Mr Malushte who I met one day a decade back who took me under his wings to teach me the basics of photography..and it was a week long course , he taught me theory and practical and he was very fond of me I was different crazy and poetic..I shot differently..

Mr Malushte took me along with another dear friend Umesh Salgaonkar to a Warli village and I knew nothing I just clicked pictures random;y, he took me everywhere I went with him to Konkan , Ratnagiri Ganputipule and fell in love with my home state Maharashtra ..

I am not a landscape lover but it was a good break.

I saw Lalbagh Chya Raja the Ganpati workshops , the bullock cart races thanks to Mr Malushte , he became family through him I graduated to my next Guru the inimitable Dali like Mr BW Jatkatr I joined PSI Of Mumbai , Photographic Society of India my camera club..and from Mr BW Jatkar I met yet another Guru who did not teach me photography but made me a photo poet Droncharya Mr KG Maheshwari..

But good things in life dont last long , the man who showed me color labs , Mazda Color Art Swatik Mr BW Jatkar passed away leaving behind a great void in my life he put me towards Salon Photography I joined IIPC and Mr Benu Sens Photography Federation ..

But once I bought the digital camera , and got seduced by the Internet life changed I completely moved away from the analogue word and became a accidental blogger which honestly was seen in a very bad light by camera club photographers that they have joined the band wagon of blogs is once bitten shy kind of thing..for them prints means photography for us imprinting thoughts on human souls as blogs is photography.

I became a blogger , my world changed I exhibited my pictures on the net, my only daughter Samiya learnt photography from Mr Malushte , and though my three year old grand daughter Marziya Shakir the worlds youngest street photographer did not learn photography from Mr Malushte she was blessed by him..

My grand daughter Marziya Shakirs Guru is Dr Glenn Losack MD from New York Manhattan , and he gave her the Nikon D 80 when she was two years old.. she uses her camera I use mine.

Marziya is a craftsman a one take sure shot photographer she is a child born of the camera , she is on Facebook Flickr has her own Twitter handle an Indi blogger and her pictures are on sale at Red Bubble.

So Mr Malushte has been the source of the running stream of photography at home , my wife my sons too shoot pictures and the bench mark of perfection is Marziya Shakir.. street photographer.

Marziya has met and shot some of the world best photographers that visited our house and besides her god father Dr Glenn Losack her favorite all time photographer and Guru is Marc De Clercq they have an amazing chemistry they get on well and Marziya is most comfortable with Marc.

The other photographer she liked who pampered her no less was El Gekko Jean Paul Gargantiel from Reunion.

Another person a great personality from Ann Arbor who loved Marziya was Jeff Lamb he passed away recently and his photo stream at Flickr is kept alive by his beautiful wife Leyla Lau Lamb

So these are stray thoughts of a blogger and they center around a great humble human being Mr Shreekanth Malushte..the soul of the spirit of my photographic adventures..

Ode To A Warrior Queen Goddess Of Orakzai

182,764 items / 1,444,283 views

The Orakzai tribes take their name, which literally means the lost son (Wrak Dzoy), from a romantic legend about their ancestor, Sikandar Shah, who was a prince from Iran, was exiled or lost, and after many adventures married and ruled in Tirah. The tribal area now forming Orakzai Agency was previously included in Frontier Region Kohat district and remained as such until 30 November 1973.

living in her castle
to beggar poets
out of bound
with broken wings
her window sill
her stony heart
i pound
she was born
impervious to love
its flowing sound
her dewy
kohl laden eyes
her cleopatra nose
her gazelle like neck
her chubby cheeks
apple like reddish round
such divine
goddesses only
in poetry books
can be found
an era of the past
running streams
in the back ground
the lazy lamb
chewing the cud
watched by
an afghan hound
a dream princess
a figment
of my poetic mind
my poems crown
a poet barefeet
a beggar
urban brown
uff her impatience
her fretful frown
that held my
insane soul
drunken soul
she has gone
into hiding
i search for her
all around
poetry of pain
deleted doomed
ok firoze
tag words
every day
a new passion
in her memory
unwound s
i feel
i expound
as my death
my time
spilling over
wet soggy soil
lichen moss
a poet
home bound

Me and My Fate

182,764 items / 1,444,283 views

i wait
like a pebble
on a desolate beach
unkissed beyond
her reach
she has gone
of speech
the bloody
soul of
my poetry
like a leech
the moat
of her
i could swim
but could
not breach
a stone goddess
i beseech

I Was Fucked By Fate The Day I Was Born

182,764 items / 1,444,012 views

a horoscope
round my
cosmic body
like a python
poetic brain
minus brawn
my soul
i wonder
my love has gone
deleted dreams
poetry porn
my sorrow
in the john
seminal soliloquy
hopes i pawned

The Beggar Poet And The Hijras

182,764 items / 1,444,001 views

their life
my poets
beggarly life
in a strange way
my pain their pain
is here to stay
pots made of
living clay
the hijra
every day
a price
for going
the order of god
the order of nature
he has to pay
once a hijra asked
me curiously
if god is not man
if god is not woman
what is he anyway
i kept mum
i had nothing
to say
god may be
god may be
he cant be gay
god is god
like the
hijra is hijra
word play
of gender
some may say

If Men Want To Be Women Who Are We To Stop Them

182,764 items / 1,443,969 views

they have a craving
a god given desire
to become woman
so let them be
hijras too are a part
of humanity
born in the body
of a man
their womanly soul
they want to free
neither man nor
woman quite lonely
castrated carved
testicular tragedy
a little hole
from where they pee
anal gratification
sexual rhapsody
a woman
in a mans body
neither he nor she
their human plea
love warmth
the hijra
touched me
her pain
her pathos
in my hijra poetry

Mona The Child Eunuch In A Mans World

182,764 items / 1,443,959 views

I have written a lot about Mona the child eunuch on my Hijra blogs at Flickr , and writing some more would sound repetitive...

I met Mona the child eunuch at the All India Hijra Sammelan , I shot her first hijra dance recital , Mona dressed in a white long dress with another adult hijra.

I met her foster parents affluent rich Babita Hijra and Gopa Haji..

Over the years Mona And I have bonded we meet every year at Haji Malang and Ajmer Sharif and we get along pretty well,.Mona has a younger sibling Nandini.. they always love and fight.

They live in a dream house and short of nothing with all worldly comforts Mona is net savvy too with her own lap top and digital camera.

Mona has a powerful man streak, and he lives among hijras as a matter of fact he is the Hijra Guru of Raveena the Hijra Beauty and seductress.

You dont mess with Mona one tough hijra eunuch child.. he is moody violent and temperamental too..

I met Mona at the recently concluded Haji Malang Urus but I dd not stay for their Hijra sandal of Sultan Shah Baba , I like shooting hijra pictures but I am not greedy and I know when to stop.

Priya The Hijra Bombshell From Singapore

182,764 items / 1,443,945 views

The Indian hijras who believe in fair and lovely , wheatish complexion as means of winning a fucked Indian mans heart were hit badly when Priya a trans gender dark dusky sultry siren had men running after her , Priya has a husky sexy voice that was a greater turn on than her silicone boobs that erect stared you directly in the eyes.. and Priya did not need a bra to hold them they swelled on their own crushing a man between doomsday and his testicles..

Priya Hijra was sex dripping from every part of her eunuch soul and sensual body..during the fashion show she just tied a duppata revealing her dark nipples and had people going bonkers ..her leathery leopards walk and what not..

We shared stolen moments she wanted me to come to Singapore be her guest kind of thing I told her I was celibate and had put a lock on my sexual desires , she believed me hook line and sinker simply because I was dressed like a Sadhu..

She called me from Singapore once but we never met after that at all.. and Priya is the iron and steel in the soul of a hijra.. she was tough she was womanly in a sexy way... and the rural hijras would have cursed her to death , and besides she spoke English with a twang.. we got along pretty well.

And shooting her walking the hijra ramp was a great photo op,.. though my flash kept playing truant and I was new to photography too.. and new to sexy hijras too.

Basanti The Hijra Gypsy Queen

182,764 items / 1,443,880 views

I met Basanti at the All India Hijra Sammelan Park Site Vikhroli Mumbai many years back .. and she walked up to me took my hand in her hand kissed it and said we are related I understand emotions being a mind reader myself.. she is a clairvoyant she looked deep into my eyes and said we both are related by a cosmic force and we will keep on meeting each other as we live as we die.. than she blessed me but she warned me she had her hold on me .. I did not pay much heed to her words and we parted ..

And this was the first time in my life I was encountering hijras so many of them at one place at one time..

Time passed and fate bought me to Ajmer Sharif I was staying with Peersaab Fakhru Miya Hujra No 6 Bulund Darwaza, and Peersaab had given me a Malang escort Zubair Bawa of Kaliar Sharif , Zubair Bawa and I were walking down Moti Katla when someone called out loudly American Bawa I looked up and it was Basanti, she gestured me to come up..

I walked up the stairs to meet her but accidentally met Sohail Haji and Zeenat the Siddi hijra they both hugged me and than there was a angry voice behind me , Basanti snatched me from the arms of the two hijras and pulled me into her room , admonishing me that I was her guest and the usual , than she calmed down..I told her not to read my future ..

We sat talked and she was happy to see me the second time, and she gave a large sum of money to Zubair Bawa , she asked me if I needed anything I was barefeet I said no..

So hijras is not merely photography,it is more much more ..and there are so many stories locked in my head, I am a poet and writing stores in prose would hamper my goal of a mystic in life..

Zubair Bawa is a Mauliaee a Sunni born who is madly in love with Karbala , Imam Hussain is his beginning and end , he curses Yazid and if Zubair Bawa screams he can beak all the window panes like the dwarf hero of Tin Drum of Gunter Grass.

Basanti and I never met on my subsequent trips but I never forgot her crazy mystical love and affection for me..

And I have never been to Kaliar Sharif..

My relationship with hijras is seamless not forced , I meet them I have the Hijra Vardan.. they are part of my souls journey on earth..I read them they read me .. we have dog marked a few chapters of our life...

The only other person in the arena of hijra essence and understanding is my friend from Ghent Marc De Clercq , Marc lives among hijras documents their lives evocatively in minute detail I shoot poetize hijras but one thing is of an integral nature we both are Dambardar Malangs from two different schools of thoughts. A white man and a Brownish burnt man..

I have yet to meet anyone who understands hijras like Marc,..he is gifted and I am happy we have stayed friends for so many years .. an unbreakable bond of love and mutual respect and affection.

And yes Laxmi Narayan Tripathi binds us both she is my Guru and his best friend.

First Time in 13 Year I Miss the Urus at Ajmer Sharif

I first visited Ajmer Urus in 2005 along with Ajmer Urus I shot Taragadh and Pushkar ... This year I could not make it for Chadiya...