Thursday, March 8, 2012

As a 4 year old child Marziya did not envy the fun the kids were having ..we Shias play Holi 21 March Nowroze

shot by marziya shakir youngest street photographer of bandra

Street Photography Brings You Closer To Man and God -Shot By Marziya Shakir 4 Year Old Nikon D 80

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marziya shakir shoots holi as a moment of peace hope humanity

marziya shoots holi as a moment of peace hope humanity

today i took a back seat and let my grand daughter marziya shoot the colors of holi

Womens Day in a Whore House - Mumbai Cages

This red light area is also known as Falkland Road , but the local lingo we call it Peela House , nothing has changed here, as you enter this lane , there is a police beat chowky, and on either side waiting prostitutes in dinghy rooms called Cages.
The prostitutes are under a fat ugly Madam who runs the profession, and the hafta system or bribes to the officials to run this illegal trade continues.

No rehabilitation , though some NGOS help out with the children of the prostitues, yes they celebrate Womans Day here every night and every passing day.

Ramadan and the poor Muslim Woman

Ramadan holy month of piety
And she sits and begs
The poor beggar Muslim Woman
Carrying her pain
Within the ocean of her womanhood
Blood sweat and tears
Voluminous waters of her hijab
Besides her sits her little girl
Who will perhaps beg like her
Another hijab of pain
Yes Muslims
do not wish to be reminded
black spots on the firmament
of Islamic society
on hard rock hearts
while the Mullahs men
move from house to house
with a receipt book in hand
another Mosque
to be built at Ayodhya
another in Faizabad
Madarsas to be built in Azamgarh
Yes they beg too with Islamic fortitude
While at the corner of a Allahs Door
A Muslim Poor Woman Begs
From one Ramadan to the other Ramadan
Fasting from the day she was born
To the day she will die..
The Mujhaidas were plumb lucky
Living and breathing among prayer beads
On cyberspace
Allah ho Akbar endangered specie
The Poor Muslim Woman
A palpitating heart
a dying soul in the Hijab
Says the Muslim Man
Let her be ..
A Muslim Woman
To her Crying Destiny

this poem does not denigrate the hijab but the life that lies unprotected as woman within the hijab no upliftment of her
deteriorating condition..

International Women's Day 2011 At Garib Nagar Bandra East After The Fire

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

International Women's Day (IWD), originally called International Working Women’s Day is marked on the 8th of March every year.[1] It is a major day of global celebration of women. In different regions the focus of the celebrations ranges from general celebration of respect, appreciation and love towards women to a celebration for women's economic, political and social achievements.

Started as a Socialist political event, the holiday blended in the culture of many countries, primarily Eastern Europe, Russia, and the former Soviet bloc. In many regions, the day lost its political flavour, and became simply an occasion for men to express their love for women in a way somewhat similar to a mixture of Mother's Day and St Valentine's Day. In other regions, however, the original political and human rights theme designated by the United Nations runs strong, and political and social awareness of the struggles of women worldwide are brought out and examined in a hopeful manner.
Female members of the Australian Builders Labourers Federation march on International Women's Day 1975 in Sydney
The mimosa (technically, the Silver Wattle) is the symbol of the celebrations of Women's day in Italy and Russia

The first IWD was observed on 19 March 1911 in Germany following a declaration by the Socialist Party of America. The idea of having an international women's day was first put forward at the turn of the 20th century amid rapid world industrialization and economic expansion that led to protests over working conditions[citation needed]

In 1910, Second International held the first international women's conference in Copenhagen (in the labour-movement building located at Jagtvej 69, which until recently housed Ungdomshuset). An 'International Women's Day' was established. It was suggested by the important German Socialist Clara Zetkin, although no date was specified.[2] The following year, 1911, IWD was marked by over a million people in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland, on March 19.[3] In the West, International Women's Day was first observed as a popular event after 1977 when the united Nations General Assembly invited member states to proclaim March 8 as the UN Day for Women's Rights and International Peace.[citation needed]

Demonstrations marking International Women's Day in Russia proved to be the first stage of the Russian Revolution of 1917.[4]

Following the October Revolution, the Bolshevik Alexandra Kollontai persuaded Lenin to make it an official holiday in the Soviet Union, and it was established, but was a working day until 1965. On May 8, 1965 by the decree of the USSR Presidium of the Supreme Soviet International Women's Day was declared a non working day in the USSR "in commemoration of the outstanding merits of Soviet women in communistic construction, in the defense of their Fatherland during the Great Patriotic War, in their heroism and selflessness at the front and in the rear, and also marking the great contribution of women to strengthening friendship between peoples, and the struggle for peace. But still, women's day must be celebrated as are other holidays.

my poem in humility

she has lost everything
such was the fire's sting
burnt her soul
her children s wings
on a mound that was
once her house
she sits doomed
around a cosmic ring
a pain that pulls
her heartstrings
only memories remain
dust to dust
ashes to ashes
sweet nothings
a womans day
at garib nagar
her angst
her anguish
her burnt

The Day After Womans Day

when the euphoria is over
political advantages taken
woman the only creature
on two legs
forgotten and forsaken
her agony for her chakra
of ill fate mistaken
Mother Theresa
is no more alive
woman's dead soul
who will awaken ?
born on the road
dies on the road
by the municipal
to be dumped
in a filthy
stinking morgue
she will be taken

I shot this in the Behrampada slums and does this little Muslim girl really know how far she is from the next Woman's Day of her life..but than as a photographer I have shot a woman's life on Womans day in the Mumbai Cages of the red light area too..Hasn't changed much though...butchered for tender meat..chopped or minced.a dark thought my soul evinced

The Pretty Hijra Celebrates International Womans Day

she is as
much a woman
on this auspicious day
the pretty hijra
all decked up
hopeful about her
success the role
of womanhood
she essays
fair and lovely
in every way
demure darling
of the masses
the classes
the hijra goddess
of my screenplay
on the soul
of humanity
her Midas touch
my poetry
my wordplay
she portrays
angelic beauty
an exotic hybrid
on the walkway
what god could
not create with her
own hands
she sculpted
her destiny
worthy of praise
from the ashes
of her burnt out
a pretty woman
she did raise
her beauty
the toast of
all the lovers
of aesthetic
from mumbai to uk
a delicious delight
i dare say

8 March International Womans Day Through The Eyes of Maria The Leper Lady

to womanhood
the emancipation
of their fair gender
on this auspicious day
the spirit of freedom
as they say
poets have nothing
but with words
they play digressing
as they stray
so my role model
is maria the leper lady
who sits at bandra
hill road close
to where i stay
eyes gone blind
sockets filled
with sores
stumps for hands
she begs every day
her daughter is also
a beggar by the way
but her grand children
both a girl a boy
with money
she saved
paved the way
well bought up
in every way
proud of their
grand mother
a leper
heart of gold
feet made
of clay
she can
see them
or feel them
is hard to say

The Hijra On Womans Day

her pain
is greater
the woman
she emulates
a martyred womb
a clitoral
a testicuular
on her plate
but womanly
traits coyness
her fucked fate
even god godly
hesitated to create
so to be born
from the fucked rib
of man
the hijra had to wait
entry only
through a back gate
rectal rhapsody
melodiously mutates
gyrates a cosmic dance
of death mutilate
castrate homophobic hate
society considers them ugly
untouchable but men
love fucking hijras
on the soul of this
poem originates
mans thirst
for the forbidden fruit
of the gods
the hira in satiates

hijras celebrate
womans days
with tears
on the soul
of humanity
as the metrosexual
woman seductive ornate

dedicated to my hijra guru
laxmi narayan tripathi
as a facebook update

Happy Womans Day

With our chauvinistic
Pig headed masculinity
Penile headed depravity
Women we batter
Beat terrorize and slay
Than we remember
Our mother
Who gave us birth
Who went senile and gray
Than we remember the
Domestic help of a wife
Who places the dinner tray
Those nights dysfunctional we lay
No foreplay
Our parts made of asexual clay
Promiscuity pray
A will no way
Pretentiously we lay aside
a single tribute
call it fucked unhappy
Happy Woman’s Day

I shot this woman beggar at Chor Bazar …

the umbrella that had once seen better days...

i educate my grand daughter through the pictures she shoots

I let Marziya Shakir come closer to the subject, if I find the people she shoot are comfortable with her taking pictures , and because she is small they dont mind .. and so she gets natural shots of surprise on their faces as their emotional output..

Today I let Marziya Shakir shoot and did not want to spoil her rhythm and I did not want her to feel I shoot better than her by taking the same shot she was taking .. I dont tell her anything I watch her in silence I learn photography making myself 4 year old too.. so it works for her it works for me too.

street barbers bandra reclamation shot by marziya shakir 4 year old

street photography by marziya shakir 4 year old nikon d 80

street photography is nothing but filling a blank of life shot by marziya shakir 4 year old

Cover Up

if you only knew

i die million deaths

just to say i love u

from the burning
desire of my flesh
into your soul i leap

i cant get sleep
kissing every
square inch
of your divine body
i weep
trying to hold you
hug you
with my breath
allover you i sweep
a part of you
deep within
my own part i keep
i am wide awake
you are fast asleep

i want to
touch you
sweet heart
of stone
only once
only once
only once

i bleed
i seep

my poem is more than skin deep

199 200 201 501 801
eyes wide open
counting sheep

Happy Homeless Woman's Day Shot By Marziya Shakir 4 Year Old

Marziya Shakir Shoots The Broken Lady And Her Broken Umbrella

The Street Photographer Gets Ready To Shoot The Umbrella Lady of Bandra Reclamation

Fucked Woman's Day and Charity

I taught Marziya charity .
She learnt photography through the blessings of Dr Glenn Losack MD her teacher and Guru..

Marziya keeps money aside for this lady , who mind you does NOT beg.. she is homless she lives under a broken umbrella but she is NOT a beggar NOT yet..

We give her money some give her food leftovers and she wont be rehabilitated .. WHY ?
Because our fucked system rehabilitates crooks who become politicians ..our fucked system does not rehabilitate whores .. because if you rehabilitate the whores than .. where will the rich go and fuck? You have to protect our women so we create Whores and on one day of the Year shed fucked tears marking it as Womans Day or Fucked Mothers Day..

Both Fucked by a Corrupt system.. and even whores are mothers to fatherless children..

And as a beggar poet or as a street photographer I have been brutally ruthlessly truthful.. I dont sell my pictures I share what I see I write as my expression of poetry free flowing from the furnace molten lava that singes my soul too.

Have You Ever Felt The Pain of a Fallen Woman On Woman,s Day

She is known as the Umbrella lady of Bandra Reclamation.
I have documented her story as a set at
She stays close to my house .. I have never spoken a word
to her till date .. I know her since six years ..

When the monsoons arrive she is inundated but she stays
in the same place I have never seen her standing
She bathes eats drinks at the same place.
Once she was a rich woman from affluent society than
came the fall and she has never turned back on
the pages of her life ..she is not Ekta Kapoor
She is not Vidya Balan
but she has a kahani that is a
fucked pregnant pause ..

Shaving The Indian Armpit ..Is a Fine Art Among Street Barbers

Lucky Loves Marziya But Wont Touch Her ..

Lucky Loves Me As Much as I Love Marziya .. Shot By My Grand Daughter 4 year Old

Marziya Shakir Shoots a Beggar Poet Through The Viewfinder of Her Soul

Marziya Shakir Shoots a Beggar Poet Through The Viewfinder of Her Soul

Marziya Shakir Shoots a Beggar Poet Through The Viewfinder of Her Soul

Marziya Shakir Captures Hope Through The Eyes of Color ..

Every year on holi day I take my grand daughter Marziya Shakir down below our house , 4 year old .. she shoots pictures while I watch her grow , she is more confident less shy and the kids love her because she shoots them as they are kids the hope future of our country.. a bright future ..

I have encouraged my grand daughter shown her the greatest lesson in street photography is humility and capturing Truth ..

And at 4 even with flaws in what she shoots she is truthful.. we dont tweak our pictures we have stopped mono chroming the soul of reality we are documentarists we are not artists .. we can live with art but not without culture.

But we are poets we shoot the poetry of lifes drama as it unfolds every moment every second we unflappably shoot it for posterity

The World of Hijras Is In my Backyard

Living As A Man Kept Him Jobless So He Became a Beggar Hijra

I met a lot of pretty even ugly as hell kids , guys with dreams in their eyes , they had come from interiors to find jobs , they tried were used abused sodomized by a fucked system.. where the underdog is brutally demoralized , some take to petty crimes , ome become masseurs service horny old men..some who are total failures to survive become impostor hijras ..

Some are hoodwinked by smarter guys and sold of at Kamathipura hijra haven.. not everybody likes to screw women prostitutes some satisfy their lust fucking hijras , it is forbidden sex and they find it more palatable than the usual one.

The hijras in the red light area and the prostitutes are bound by a cosmic chain of guilt and betrayal so they cling to each other .. they are doomed and nothing can save them..the system supports the criminals and he cops are as horny as human, cops most of them are badly sourced , love beating common people whores hijras and even homeless beggars ,, and they get away because they are protected by the system..

Corruption runs in our bloodstream we inherited it at birth.. I saw prostitutes in the red light cages , with wounds scars on their bodies , beaten by savage guys and the madam.

All this I saw did not shoot thanks to a few hijra prostitute friends I know..I have stopped going to the cages has been a very long time .. I have no time and I have lost my earlier adventurous enthusiasm.

You only shoot what you are destined to shoot it is the hand of God that presses the trigger of my camera .. I am nothing .. robbing memories from a vortex of nothingness ..

The Beggar Hijras of India

The beggar hijras wander all over Bandra begging from shop to shop, and they beg in groups or pairs , hardly ever alone , and invariably they drink at the local hooch joint not far from where she is sleeping..

Later her companion also drunk but not heavily sozzled came to fetch, I shot her too , the hijras I shoot hardly bother about my shooting them , mostly they demand money I give them without hesitation..some I flatly refuse if they get intimidating but I can handle intimidation I am not afraid of the consequences ..

I know some of the prettiest wittiest hijras but personally as a street photographer I prefer shooting these wild orchids the beggar hijras that I meet on the streets.

I dont follow hijras as a rule but they Googleplus me to their Circles of Confusion and Chaos.

The Dead Drunk Hijra

God knows I shoot hijras and God also knows I shoot them as I see God leads me towards the undergrowth of pain , where hijras lie hidden from society.. on the fringes of despair..I meet hijras on the crossroads of life and this was one moment and I knew he was a hijra I also knew he was not alone his people would come find him take him back to his hovel..

So I waited and it did not take long his partner came to collect him but I did not wait for the entire scene to end ..

i shoot the silhouette of slithering silence

this is how they rape mother earth

In Uttar Pradesh Cycles Are Selling Like Hotcakes

The Flour Mill Grinder of Bandra Bazar

The Flour Mill Grinder of Bandra Bazar

Pandu is a Municipal Sweeper The Best In Bandra

I shoot lascivious libidinous emulating garbage porn

Marc De Clercq Taught Me To Shoot Sleeping Dogs

We Corrupted The Soul of Our Kids With The Mobile Phone ..

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Fuck Blogspot

Sometimes I Borrow Marias Eyes To See Deep Down Within My Own Soul

And I Would Kill Myself Before I Shot The Lakme Fashion Week

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I did go to the Lakme Fashion week without my camera I am yet not ready to tarnish my soul with frivolity fastidiousness and fashion..

I will never shoot the Mumbai Marathon that promtes a fucked bank and nothing else ..

I will never shoot the Kala Ghoda Festival..

But I shoot Maria thats how I begin my day before I go to work..

She Hates The World And I Dont Blame Her

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She was a Hindu, but now she is a Christian and I dont blame her Christianity is the only religion that believed through Christ in healing accepting faults as virtues faults of mind body and soul and dont blame North East India for becoming Christian ..

I hate conversions but I dont hold it as a sin I respect the womb that gave me the religion I belong fuck who cares whether as a Shia you call me a Kafir heretic or Kufr...I am happy that what you call heresy gave me the full overblown meaning of humanity and humility.

Both Christianity and modern Islam as promoted by the Wahabbis preempts evangelizing , based on a single premise their religion is supreme rest is full of shit..

I have distanced myself from all and every religion where God is made into a entity that is racist a bigot and human hating.. if you consider my poetry of life a sham so be it it is my words my rhyme I live it without distorting or cursing your beliefs.

Cutting of my head my self infliction in memory of Hussain upsets a lot of people yet hypocrisy prevails when Muslims plunder destroy Muslims kill rape sodomize ,.. and all around there is a eunuch silence .. if you are rich powerful than you change history have it re written ..

I am an Indian and that is what adds color to my spirituality of peace hope and harmony..

I am a photographer but pictures are my personal poetry stolen from other peoples life .. customs traditions .. and come April I shall walk with the Hindu Tamils of Mumbai with a 21 feet rod pierced through my cheeks to experience their pain and add solidarity to their faith as an Indian..

And like every year I shall walk barefeet on Good Friday walking behind Jesus his flock shooting the 14 stations of the Cross , with tears on my soul I shall be cleansed when the fisher women of Vakola will wash my burnt dirty feet .. This is India .. this is the India I shoot and love ..

Behind the camera I become the religiosity I shoot I become Human..

Someone long time back on Facebook asked me if I was a Hijra ,, and this was a comment by a Shia on my Shia post.. and I said I was not the hijra at Karbala who prayed five times and turned the other way when Husain's head was being decapitated by Shimr..

And I shoot Maria her eyeballs or what remains of it and I wonder those who give 21 lacs to Lal Bagh Chya Raja or a diamond studded shawl to Saibaba or sacrifice a 5 lac goat on Bakra Eid dont try to rehabilitate one distressful person on this planet ///

I have nothing more to add .. and I am still searching for Appu the human stump without hands or legs .. he has disappeared but I know he will resurface one day..and all the rich folks will never buy him a Jaipur leg is not part of this digression..

And some money was deducted from my salary so I requested my boss if it was possible this money be given to the poor or any charity of his choice .. the few notes I give Maria are definitely not going to get back her eyes .. and lucky are the starlets of Bollywood who can enhance their pectorals and flat posteriors ..

Dear Akhilesh Get Rid Of The Elephants They Are An Insult To Those Who Voted You To Power - The Needy The Poor The Marginalized

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for 5 years
they ate
the harvest
the fodder
of the poor
on the hopes
of the people
lying in
the sewer
made out of
stone and brass
reminder of a
megalomaniac leader
fate out to chew her
instead of building
hospitals schools
even that during her
rule became fewer

The National Symbol of Uttar Pradesh Was Elephant Now It Is The Common Mans Cycle