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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 ..
Friday, May 20, 2011
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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 circuit..dance 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 alive..today 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..
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to the nape
my poetic pain
sold at deonar
guilty as hell
it was purgatory
where she was
was searching for
peace of mind
kha rahi thi
phir a laut
a poet dies
a million deaths
on the edge
she has placed
a poet who
wings of fancy
searching for a
a pain residual
with the blunt
her bitter half
cut his parched
he was dressed
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 ..love the greatest bigot
born of a union of a zygote cutthroat
We In India Send Our Children To Work At A Very Young Age, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
and he could grow up to be a kalam you dont know..
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
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on the sands
in an hour glass
that did not last
the die was cast
positive poetry spam
living in memories
of the past
in the waters
of a rapid
river of her heart
a broken down raft
7 khoon maaf
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i let is pass
by a beautiful
a gaping chasm
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on a tree
key thrown away
of her cupboard
of pain the
who fall in love
in a vortex
of her deceit
of a clawless
The Soul of A Photographer Lies In The Heritage of Her Humility, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
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, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victims he intends to eat until he eats them.
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swift and clean
of lime juice
a bit of
sweet sour spicy
a bit namkeen
as added protein
she loves cooking
pure and pristine
her eyes blindfolded
the poets pain unseen
a childs play
for this warrior
hunting wild boars
runs in her genes
she the holiest
of the holy
once in lahore
she had seen
she was perhaps
in her teens
a lot of water
she is hate
her satin sheen
he silken throaty
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to my life
it is women
to my poetic pain
of my life
a game she
feet made of clay
searching for a
needle of hope
in a stack full of hay
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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..
I Just Met Him At Makdhoom Shah Babas Dargah Today, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
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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..
Peersaab Fakhru Miya Hujra No6 Ajmer And a Beggar Poet of Mumbai, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.
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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
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
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fear to tread
fall in love with
it an affair
led down your hair
dreams that a poet
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
my love to
her i declared
i will tie a challa
at jannati darwaza
to get her back
if i make it
on broken wings
I am perhaps the only Muslim shooting Lalbaugh Chya Raja for over 20 years or more ,,thanks to Mr Sudhir Salvi head honcho of the Mandal.....
Shah-e-Mardan Sher-e-Yazdan Quwat-e-Parwardigar Lafata Ila Ali La Saif Ila Zulfiqar , originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1 ....
Ek Shahenshah Ne Banake Yeh Haseen Tajmahal Ham Gareebon Ki Mohabbat Ka Udaya Hai Mazak.. , a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Fli...