I met Shilpa this afternoon as I passed the Marriamman Temple Macchimar Colony today on some work..I had gone to Canossaa Convent to a friends workshop and this was at about 1.00 pm I was to meet a client at my workplace between 3 pm and 3.30 pm so I had time to kill and besides today being Wednesday I thought of searching for my beggar friend Appu who has no hands or legs so I walked from here , I could not find Appu they said he had stopped coming to Mahim .
From Budh Bazar I cut across to Moro Road shooting street pictures and reached the Marriammen Temple..I met Laxmi her family and Shilpa too they were not aware that I had posted over 900 pictures at Flickr.com of their procession and event. these are simple people low profile and not publicity hungry at all.
Shilpa I talked at end as her marks on her cheeks of the rod had healed , she…
I would love to give you so much so more i told my home folk also a facebook poke but ashok this barefeet poet is always broke his voice strangulated by love before she left she made me choke luckily that one limb did not get a stroke from a nightmare i awoke seminal soliloquy body mind soaked blocked ignored permission revoked tell me ashok why the is love a riddle fuck a joke god made women to fuck menfolk white and some egg yolk the wrath of nemesis fate invoked you are lucky you dont drink or smoke a rapier edged sword your tongue your wit god save the asshole whoever provokes our own dear ashok on his birthday in the swimming pool filled with champagne doing breaststroke raw human totally uncloaked
has always been very good it was in most cases the madrsa the rogue mullah destroyed the soul of the child with sectarian hate as fast as he could suicide bombers terrorism was what he understood killing bombing destroying humanity his face covered in a hood because of him his dastardly deeds Islam misunderstood martyred motherhood
Sometimes segregation as important too I think.. and this bit of new being a Bandraite hit me real hard..the greatest crimes unreported are committed in children's home everybody knows it but fuck who cares..
Now you want to know her story the woman in blue shawl, she lives produces children at the feet of the Khada Parsi.. while she is being screwed every night by a drunk husband Khada Parsi who is as fucked by fate as they are, turns his face away... though he knows all her children by name they have beautiful names too.. Ma Ke Laude , Madar Chod, Kute Ki Aulad , Chinal Chodi ka, Badhwe , and I can go on .. but than Khada Prasi is used to it all unless if they transplanted him gracefully to Cusrow Baugh his agony would end , but I am sure he wont like it he is part of our changing pathos ethos and pigeon shit..
I am sure he would not want to go to Malcolm Baugh too far away, or Dadar Parsi Colony.. too upper lip .. he prefers the Signal the over bridge and he loves watching Lalbagh Chya Raja being felicatated by the Byculla cops the Byculla fi…