Saturday, February 25, 2012

The Khada Parsi Shall Miss Sharada Dwivedi

Sharada Dwivedi died on 7 Feb 2012..the erstwhile chronicler of Amchi Mumbai that she lovingly called Bombay

The Khada Parsi Shall Miss Sharada Dwivedi

Sharada Dwivedi died on 7 Feb 2012..the erstwhile chronicler of Amchi Mumbai that she lovingly called Bombay

The Hijab at Crossroads of Life

Bengali Soya Bean Masala Curry

mouth watering
the bengali dish
eat it live healthy forever
a vegetarian wish
of course on the sly
you can eat hilsa
the bengali fish

I Live In The Termite Infested Coffin of My Deleted Dreams

Beggar Poets Were Born Brain Dead

जय जय महाराष्ट्र माझा, गर्जा महाराष्ट्र माझा

रेवा वरदा, कृष्ण कोयना, भद्रा गोदावरी
एकपणाचे भरती पाणी मातीच्या घागरी
भीमथडीच्या तट्टांना या यमुनेचे पाणी पाजा
जय जय महाराष्ट्र माझा ...

भीती न आम्हा तुझी मुळी ही गडगडणार्‍या नभा
अस्मानाच्या सुलतानीला जवाब देती जीभा
सह्याद्रीचा सिंह गर्जतो, शिवशंभू राजा
दरीदरीतून नाद गुंजला महाराष्ट्र माझा

काळ्या छातीवरी कोरली अभिमानाची लेणी
पोलादी मनगटे खेळती खेळ जीवघेणी
दारिद्र्याच्या उन्हात शिजला, निढ़ळाच्या घामाने भिजला
देशगौरवासाठी झिजला
दिल्लीचेही तख्त राखितो, महाराष्ट्र माझा

The Muslim Man ..Is Always Fighting Against Odds For His Survival

Sadly he gets killed more in Muslim countries than anywhere in the World..you can call me a liar Fuck I Care

The Grass Is Always Fucked Green on the Other Side

The Grass Is Always Fucked Green on the Other Side

I Am Undoubtedly On Google+Pimping My Blogs For Free

As Indians We Love Scratching Our Balls Digging Our Noses Cleaning Our Ears ..

Marriage is Driving Home on a Punctured Cycle..Flat Tired

Mumbai Is a City That Even God Loves To Death

Mumbai is the Only City That Allows you to Build a Home Free On Government Land

Mumbai is a Poster City ...We Hit The Box office Every Friday

The Funny Thing is Once This was a slum town demolished rising again from the fires of Hell

I Die a Million Death as I Silently Write My Poems as Pictures

The Hotel Bill

An older lady decided to give herself a big treat for her significant
70th birthday by staying overnight in an expensive hotel.

When she checked out next morning, the desk clerk handed her a bill for
$250.00.

She exploded and demanded to know why the charge was so high. "It's a
nice hotel but the rooms certainly aren't worth $250.00 for just an
overnight stay! I didn't even have breakfast."

The clerk told her that $250.00 is the 'standard rate', so she
insisted on speaking to the Manager.

The Manager appeared and, forewarned by the desk clerk, announced:
"This hotel has an Olympic-sized pool and a huge conference centre
which are available for use."*


*
"But I didn't use them," she said.

''Well, they are here, and you could have," explained the Manager.

He went on to explain that she could also have seen one of the
in-hotel shows for which the hotel is famous. "We have the best
entertainers from the world over performing here," the Manager said.

"But I didn't go to any of those shows," she said.

"Well, we have them, and you could have," the Manager replied.

No matter what amenity the Manager mentioned, she replied, "But I
didn't use it!" and the Manager countered with his standard response.

After several minutes discussion with the Manager unmoved, she decided
to pay, wrote a check and gave it to him.

The Manager was surprised when he looked at the check.
"But madam, this check is for only $50.00."

"That's correct. I charged you $200.00 for sleeping with me," she
replied.

"But I didn't!" exclaims the very surprised Manager.

"Well, too bad, I was here, and you could have."

Don't mess with Senior Citizens*

I WOULD COMMIT SUICIDE IF I WAS A PHOTO JOURNALIST IN INDIA - I ONLY SHOOT CRAP

I shoot what they wont shoot
i shoot lifes resounding slap
i show the victim the inhuman trap
yes fuck me forever i love to shoot crap
my pictures real life stories unlike
the hindustan times showing doctors gleefully
removing a spray can from the rectum
national news of india placed on the map
arrogant conceited artificially bloated
the photo journos no humility to speak of
just luxury in their borrowed laps
bloggers are broke broken cameras
but original to the core no press card
a bleeding camera strap shooting hijras
muslim beggars sleeping dogs
unseen worlds through
the meshes of a mousetrap

Hijras Were Born Invisible .. You See Them Through My Pictures

Hindus Muslims ..But Indians First

Sab Ghode Pe Sawar Hona Chahte Hain..

aur kuch ghode pa sawar hokar
dulha banjane ke bad khud khushi
kar jate hain ...kuch landure reh jate hain
baki aurat ki sari pehnkar hijde ban jate hain
taliya baja baja kar samaj ka manoranjan
'ban jate hain...ghodesawar unpar bhi
bade maze se chad jate hain

He Inked His Finger For Change .. He Will Eventually Get Fucked In Exchange

I Live Under The Running Waters Of Pain..My Angst Anchored to a Cosmic Chain


i am emotions
feelings held
as imprints
on a paper
thin brain
i am the husk
minus the grain
my religion
humanity
follower of
hussain

Man is The Garbage Porn As My Poem of Life

I Shoot Poetry That End Up as Sordid Pictures

Man Is The Ultimate Dust That Ends Up In a Dustbin

Man Is The Most Perverse Creature on Earth..

Forgive Me God ...I Asked For Death You Gave Me Life Instead

Will Their Life Change No Not Really ..Only Those They Voted To Power Their Lives Will Change

Will Their Life Change No Not Really ..Only Those They Voted To Power Their Lives Will Change

Will Their Life Change No Not Really ..Only Those They Voted To Power Their Lives Will Change

The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's Mark Twain”

I Get Fucked By Fate Much Before I Open My Mouth

Me And My Alter Ego

I am on Flickr Instagram You Tube