Friday, May 20, 2011

If The Hijra Stopped Dancing He Woul Die

186,255 items / 1,469,972 views

The poetry within his soul would die and the hijra may or may not have formal training in dance but dance comes to him naturally like fish takes to water after being hatched.. swishing their tails in delight ..

I love shooting hijras dancing during the sandal procession but is is a very crowded affair narrow lanes at Haji Malang and it is the beat of the drums that brings out the angst of the hijras .. when the hijra dances time stops completely.. though I continue to shoot pictures of their androgynous gyrations and pelvic thrusts on the soul of Man.

And I am new to photographing the soul of the hijras maybe five or six years but they have their spirit embedded in the soul of my camera I say this with sheer head bowed humility .. for me shooting hijras is not photography if it was you would see images these are movements of my poetry .. shot as pictures ..

Hijras Are Born Dancers Hijras And Facebook

186,255 items / 1,469,942 views

Rarely will you come across a hijra with two left feet , hijras love to dance it is their inheritance their legacy from the God of the Hijras .

Dance is what keeps the hijras alive during badhai marriages and during the urus is what connects the hijra with god.. the hijra trinkets on hijra masculine feet are the tools of his religious connectivity... the grace of the dance the flow the languidness keeps the hijra heritage alive.

Hijras were courtesans and their origins in a way could have begin in some rare cases through bacchebazi and laundebazi in the courts of the Nawabs of yesteryear s this is my assumption and lady boys later with the right indoctrination became absorbed in hijra communities and hijra mujra households.

I know that even today before the advent of the bar dancing culture hijra mujra was a exclusive congregational pastime of the rich and dance and courtesan kothewali loving culture..

Even today hijras perform at wedding pre nuptial parties and at political private bashes.. I know hijras who participate in these events and have confided to me with an oath of extreme secrecy.. of the orgies that take place too.

Hijras dancing in full flow at Haji Malang and Ajmer is a delightful sight they are on a different planet so to speak.,.. and these two Holy Shrines Ajmer Sharif and Haji Malang keep hijra hopes expectations the modern hijra is cultured metrosexual jet setting to new York Amsterdam and other exotic cities the hijra world which was once esoteric exclusive has become globally smaller with the advent of the internet..

Even rich kids who get tired of cross dressing give in to the charm and lure of becoming an Hijra.I know far many cases and Facebook has given an added edge to connectivity for the hijra restless angst.. hijra pages and hjra hopes .. hijras are vocal on Facebook more open and hijras hardly like micro blogging their soul on Twitter it would not fit in 140 words.. ha ha ha

I talk of hijras not tran sexuals or transvestites or shemales..

As I Intend To Give My Body to Medicine .. You Wont Have To Visit My Grave.

Seeing Beggars Begging Is Such a Common Sight But Now She Is Begging On Facebook Too

A Poem On The Soul of Tears I Wrote

186,255 items / 1,469,303 views

a single
to the nape
of my
she smote
a thought
an image
my poetic pain
who fall
in love
are bought
sold at deonar
sacrificial goats
doomed deleted
guilty as hell
it was purgatory
where she was
poached she
was searching for
peace of mind
please note

ruke sukhe
dabewe hont
woh berukhi
kha rahi thi
dal mot
woh kambaht
waqt thama
hua tha
dil unka
aye sama
phir a laut

a poet dies
a million deaths
his poems
stay afloat
on the edge
of her
ivory tower
she has placed
killer crocodiles
a moat
a poet who
loves her
hates water
cant swim
no boat
wings of fancy
searching for a
a pain residual
to connote
with the blunt
butcher knife
her bitter half
cut his parched
waterless throat
he was dressed
like Zorro
a black mask
a hat sweaty
broad buccaneer belt
suede black long tailcoat
just in case the poet
did not die he had bought
a electrical wire as garotte

mind you this is a poem i closed my hands
my karmic fate ghostwrote the greatest bigot
born of a union of a zygote cutthroat

Somethings You Cannot See

only feel on the soul of your humanity

this is a picture i shot of a beggar masturbating in a beggars bowl..

We In India Send Our Children To Work At A Very Young Age

and he could grow up to be a kalam you dont know..


He Could Not Find A Lamp Post To Raise His Leg and Pee On The Soul of Humanity

Stray Dog Searching For The Famous Animal Minister

The License For Dogs Has Been Increased From Rs 100 To Rs 500

Who Cares a Fuck For Beggars Only Beggrs Poetize Beggars

Motherhood Gets Fucked In India

Two daughter he will try for a son .. again a daughter fuck he will again try for a son.. yet again a daughter he will beat her till she finally out of fear gives birth to a son..this happens only in India..

jaahan paanv mein paayal, haath mein kangan
ho maathe pe bindiya motherhood gets fucked in india

The Girl Child Betrayed By A Mother Who Gave Her Birth..

Sometimes I Think They Have Locked Up God With Raja In Tihar Jail

Why Do You Shoot Beggars.. Simply Because You Dont Shoot Them..

Fuck Mothers Day.. They Fuck Mothers Too

Wild Ass

Wild Ass, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

186,255 items / 1,469,225 views

on the sands
of time
held captive
in an hour glass
that did not last
the die was cast
now considered
positive poetry spam
outcast typecast
living in memories
of the past
nostalgic allergic
synergistic blast
cloudy weather
dry humid
poetic forecast
in the waters
of a rapid
river of her heart
a broken down raft

7 khoon maaf

Kick Ass

Kick Ass, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

186,255 items / 1,469,217 views

there was
a memory
of sweet
pain here
i let is pass
in the
soul of
in search
of grass
eyes half
half open
on barbed
wire hearts
deleted dreams
as broken
dont send
dont call
dont harass
by a beautiful
buxom lass
a gaping chasm
spasmodic spasm

A barefeet poet climbs taragadh

186,255 items / 1,469,217 views

broken wings
dying bird
to branches
of hope
on a tree
of words
a facebook
wall deleted
key thrown away
of her cupboard
of pain the
catch word
a moment
that once
was poetry
now unseen
god created
to hurt
who fall in love
with silhouettes
spectral beauties
move upwards
a right
in a vortex
of her deceit
of this
a touch
milk into
of a clawless

The Soul of A Photographer Lies In The Heritage of Her Humility

Shot by Syed Zarghamuddin

Much before Marziya learnt to shoot pictures on Nikon D 80 she learnt humility , humility gave birth to charity , she collected money kept it in a tiny purse she shot beggars and paid them for posing for her.. and Syed my dear friend has caught Marziya and Marziyas inner soul..

And He Was Fucked Much Before You saw Him as a Picture

Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victims he intends to eat until he eats them.

The Poets Liver Heart And Spleen

186,254 items / 1,468,725 views

she cut
out from
his body
swift and clean
she added
curry powder
some chopped
greens diced
them together
she added
french beans
a dash
of lime juice
a bit of
sweet sour spicy
a bit namkeen
some soyabeen
as added protein
she loves cooking
pure and pristine
her eyes blindfolded
the poets pain unseen
making haleem
a childs play
for this warrior
beauty queen
hunting wild boars
runs in her genes
she the holiest
of the holy
she hates
in betweens
once in lahore
with sheer
disgust clapping
their hands
she had seen
she was perhaps
in her teens
sweet sixteen
she thought
they were
she drinks
a lot of water
she hates
she is
one mean
she loves
to demean
she is hate
her innocence
her satin sheen
he silken throaty
laughter shots
of cloudless

She Spat In My Beggars Bowl Walked Away

186,254 items / 1,468,720 views

my sheaf
of poems
in disarray
she came
to my life
in April
my soul
in May
sweet decay
it is women
that break
poets hearts
walk away
to my poetic pain
my dismay
accursed day
of my life
a game she
to play
gilded beauty
feet made of clay
searching for a
needle of hope
in a stack full of hay

Neither Man Nor Woman Hijra Goddess

God Could Not Create Her She Created Herself

Khushi Caught in a Leopards Claw

Two Beggars On The Cross Roads of Life

131,384 items / 976,625 views

He is a beggar his contorted body and my contorted soul is entwined ..I am a beggar too.. she came felt sorry for my fucked state of poetry threw a few coins in my beggar bowl.. than in a single stroke of anger she just smashed the beggar bowl and walked away...

And I pay my respect to him every year he blesses me I bless him... within the shores of his pain my pain grows.. and I hate sea shells on the sea shore the sea shell she sold was not a seashell I am sure the sea shells she sells are gutter water threw the sewer..I am sure..her charm her deceit her allure... pain pristine poetic and pure.. maro ya jiyo..incidentally jiyo was my dads nick name..

Ajmer Through My Eyes Is A Poetic Experience

The Dam Madar Malangs And The Beggar Poet of Mumbai

I Just Met Him At Makdhoom Shah Babas Dargah Today

131,153 items / 975,138 views

I am updating this post today actually I met him last evening at Bandra Station I had gone to Futture Studios to meet Mr Shakti Kapoor for some work, on my return on the over bridge I went to him and asked him if he was coming to Ajmer for the Urus he said was trying I told him about my chances being bleak going to Ajmer he said he would pray for me.. I shot his pictures last night.

This evening I had gone to meet Sakib my florist friend at Mahim dargah road I saw him again I told him if he remembered me he said I had met him last night at the station , he is blind but his sense of smell is very powerful..

I gave him some money today .. and again he said he would pray for me so I reach Ajmer..I did not shoot him today..

Vodafone Sucks Says This Beautiful Eunuch

If Facebook Buys Flickr ..I Would Not Need A Pro Membership To Post My Stuff

Crying For Hussain at Ajmer During Urus Time

Peersaab Fakhru Miya Hujra No6 Ajmer And a Beggar Poet of Mumbai

186,254 items / 1,468,626 views

Through the prayers blessings of Peersaab Fakhru Miya of Hujra No 6 I saw Ajmer Sharif I waited a life time ..It took me over 45 years or more to reach Dar e Ajmer..another name for Dar e Hussain..

I saw a dream and message and and life changed for me forever...

Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain
Sardad na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed,
Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain

Loosely translated

Ruler is Hussain, Emperor is Hussain,
Faith is Hussain , guardian of faith is Hussain .
Offered his head and not the hand to Yazid.
Truly, the mirror of faith is Hussain

And Jahane Rumi guided me over across the threshold to re-search myself my poetry my passion my pathos for Hussain...

Qatl-E Hussain Asl Men Marg-E Yazid Hai Islam Zinda Hota Hai Har Karbala Ke Ba’d

Karbala Nasib Se Jana Nasib Ho
Pher Laut Kar Wahan Sa Na Ana Nasib Ho
Aisa DAR-E-HUSSAIN A.S Pe Sajda Ho Akhri
K Mujha Apna Sir Na Uthana Nasib Ho

A Poet With Broken Wings

186,254 items / 1,468,608 views

poets enter
where angels
fear to tread
poetry pathos
passion share
life is
nothing but
an unending
when you
fall in love with
a goddess
she calls
it an affair
rapunzel rapunzel
led down your hair
dreams that a poet
dares love
is nothing but
second hand goods
sold on a market square
living on hope fresh air
encircled chaos cosmic
warfare all is fair in love
deleted doomed despair
a single phone call
in her web of deceit
i was ensnared
pouted lips
curved nose
dark haired
a moment
in timelessness
my love to
her i declared
i will tie a challa
at jannati darwaza
to get her back
i swear
if i make it
on broken wings
to ajmer
taunt me