Saturday, March 10, 2012

haay vo reshami zulfo se barasataa paani phul se gaalo pe rukane ko tarasataa paani

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zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi vo barasaat ki raat
ek ajaan hasinaa se mulaakaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

haay vo reshami zulfo se barasataa paani
phul se gaalo pe rukane ko tarasataa paani
dil me tufaan uthaate hue
dil me tufaan uthaate hue haalaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

dar ke bijali se achaanak vo lipatanaa usakaa
aur phir sharm se balakhaake simatanaa usakaa
kabhi dekhi na suni aisi ho
kabhi dekhi na suni aisi tilismaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

surkh aachal ko dabaakar jo nichodaa usane
dil pe jalataa huaa ek tir saa chhodaa usane
aag paani me lagaate hue
aag paani me lagaate hue jazabaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

mere nagmo me jo basati hai vo tasvir thi vo
naujavani ke hasi khvaab ki tabir thi vo
aasmano se utar aai thi jo raat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

duet version added via fitb

zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi vo barasaat ki raat
ek ajaan musaafir se mulaaqaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

haay jis raat mere dil ne dhadakanaa sikhaa
shokhh jazabaat ne sine me bhadakanaa sikhaa
meri taqadir me nikhari hui, ho
meri taqadir me nikhari hui saramaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

dil ne jab pyaar ke ragin fasaane chhede
aankho aankho ne vafaao ke taraane chhede
soz me dub gai aaj vahi
soz me dub gai aaj vahi naghamaat ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi bhulegi

ruthanevaali meri baat pe maayus naa ho
bahake bahake khhayaalaat se maayus naa ho
khat_ma hogi naa kabhi tere, ho
khat_ma hogi naa kabhi tere mere saath ki raat
zindagi bhar nahi

My God Was Born Poor

my god was born poor
a thought indeed
man made him rich
building opulent houses
that he did not need
man made god
like himself
wealth grandeur glitz
that man envied
so god was
held hostage
god had to yield
god who would
rather live like a fakir
in humility as part
of his creed
so standing in long lines
to see god held
it was decreed
gold silver money
in the donation boxes
by the moneyed
god became god
of the rich man
forever dirtied
gods wealth
that they emptied
my god died young
i wish him god speed

this poem was born though a chat with a facebook friend sudarshan pandey..he inspired me and this is another aspect of a poets pain as it bleeds when life through the lens of a camera he reads , humanity a necklace of broken beads ...let me be what i am impotently god pleads

Cricket and The Gandhian Thought

Being a Muslim Is A Pledge We Take Pain Sorrow We Dont Break

Dheere Dheere Bol Koie Sun Na Le

mera nam
hai mona
main teri kismet
main aiee hoon
ban ke khilona
na aurat
na mard
the missing
main hoon
bistar gilaf
no menstrual
no bacche kacche
no rona dhona
ab rootho mat
jaldi se
mere jism
ki ag bujha dona
jalti hoon main
ankhen malti
hoon main
black magic
jadu tona
mujhse shadi
shayar saab
jaldi bolo na
kapde utaro
hosh sambhalo
jo hona he hona
meri kismet
ki suee ko
dhage se pirona

I have written this between two chats..and I got this message in Flickr inbox

A Note to my Favorite Poet

I continue to look at your work daily, I do so enjoy it. In particular however I must thank you for opening my world to include the Hijra. Several of your pictures with those magnificent people as object of your photography moved me very, very deeply, as well as emotionally. Thank you again.


Pain The Language of Hope and Love

I was at the main lane that leads to the Holy Shrine of Makhdoom Shah before the road crossing known as the Dargah lane I was there visiting my friend Sakib and shot some frames of life around ..

Most of the beggars were surprised as I come here only during Urus time ..

This blind beggar I am told stands from morning to evening and a few beggars were grumbling my taking pictures but not raucously because of Sakib who stays in this lane.

pain is the only language
that is understood by all
no grammar no syntax
no borders no wall
we all feel pain
by and all
rich and poor
big and small
pain has only
god as cure all
to remove pain
hope love
you must install
a programme
that wont crash
or crawl
saving you
from every pitfall
is what makes
you tall

Heena Hijra The Queen of Hearts

no woman can compete her, as shes most gorgeous of them all

now i believe that even god makes mistakes......
she should have been a beautiful lady enjoying the world of femininity ........nevertheless she's one of the most seductive woman i have ever seen....

braving all odds
a crest of hope
she rides
kidnapped by
a mafia don
she refused
to be his bride
she stuck
to her guns
out smarted him
free as a bird
in flight
well known
hijra celebrity
in her own right
heena queen
of hearts
queen of night
a blossom
in spectral light
she is generous
she is kind
she is a poetic
for the rights
of the hijras
the peela house whores
she puts up a fight
even those
who take her
for granted
die of fright
during ramazan
she fasts
reads the
for iftar
all the poor
she invites
a believer
of khawajah
gharib nawaz
heena hijra
in the lime light
biologically born male
but a woman
like reality
her woman's angst
her inherited
birth right
she has it
she flaunts it
she is extremely
polite my muse
my inspiration
heena hijra
queen of the hijras
on my homesite
a barefeet blogger
a street photographer
a pedestrian poet
also a shiite

I have shot the most beautiful hijras in the world ..raveena khushi naina balan megha simran puja but heena who works in the red light area has been my muse, her raw beauty her humility her humanness is what I showcase to the world..did god make mistake in making her a man..she rectified the error..yet paying tribute to god every ramzan a devout Muslim..she fasts .. follows the tenets and yes hijras are endearingly human..

Heena Hijra The Sultry Siren

like a pigeon
locked in
a wired pen
a life
of hijra pain
no sense
the future
bleak bare
dark and dense
by my
camera lens
the first time
i came to
peela houese
the hijra whore
house den
a long time then
heena the hybrid
wild orchid
by all men
for her love
for her friendship
her zeal and zen
pillow talk
all the way
to heaven
as ecstasy
joy zenitude
as they come
again and again
for a sequence
lighting a fire
that even time
cant extinguish
is her defense
to her
her mystique
heena hijra
who lies
as unfulfilled
a barricaded

to love or not to love
says my poets soul
of heena the sultry siren

The Wild Eunuch Goes Haywire

hot sweaty
a musky fragrance
she perspires
in a satin flimsy
attire her body
her soul
her devilish
hearts desire
her senses
all on fire born
in captivity her
world of pain
by barbwire
her lover
has left
her for good
a love that
he eloped
with jasmin
she male
a facebook friend
a positive spammer
adding to her ire
the wild eunuch
goes haywire
her eyes
burning orbs
blue sapphire
she is mad
she is angry
she is furious
she wants to regain
her lost empire
not a part
complete entire
from the hands of
fucked fate
a blood sucking
a love tale
of treachery
a seductive satire
a eunuch spits fire
a man she once loved
more than her life
a coward a blackguard
a genetic repulsive liar
love a commodity
on the streets
in great demand
far too many buyers
but you can also
get it on rent on loan
or on short term hire

The Cosmic Poets Grief

I am a blue eyed
poster boy of pain
a comatose heart
dead brain
although she
has removed me
from her hearts list
within my cosmic
soul she is ingrained
the damage is already done
outside her locked doors
of destiny I remain
will she take me in
will she not take me in
my thoughts
of guilt and betrayal
on a higher plain
she is more poetic
than I am sensitive
she had to do
what she had to do
I have no reason
to complain
as I walk
on embers of fire
once again
a swish of a
from the
of her artistry
her silence
her speechlessness
without restrain
a cosmic
poet slain
in love with her for real
emotions he did not feign
lost time will not explain
it is better to have
loved and lost
in a prosaic world
morose and mundane
memories on
my consciousness
of a deleted dew drop
I retain
a lost poodle
for his mistress
with the collar and chain

Love Is A Sweet and Bitter Pill

it might hurt
you more than me
i have decided
not to stand
glass eyed
your window sill
poetic love
has lost its thrill
with your silence
you did kill
when I questioned
you on your
you said
it was Allahs will
with pain
my soul instilled
on the corridors
of my consciousness
over spilled
a dreamer
at your door
with your dreams
making a mountain
of a dunghill
at end of the day
the score is nil

love is a sweet and bitter pill
an empty pail of water
no jack and jill

Once Upon a Time Not Long Ago

she was a full
bodied cute boy
a thought
you might
not know
but as a girl
she wanted
to grow
into the river
of a mans
heart flow
she transformed
her body
like a beautiful
pouted lips
curved eyebrows
eye liner eye shadow
a heaving chest
more to show
yes a diva presto
dancing like
a dream angel
on her toes
to gain her love
men came to blows
libidinous old men
lecherous lewd men
would not let her go
but she was searching
for a dreamer who
lived beyond the rainbow
within the silhouette
of a scarecrow
a wacko and a weirdo
it was him
her souls poetry
her shadow
his picture
she kept
beneath her pillow
but he was in love
with a woman
a whispering reed
in the land
of the pharaoh
free boundless
enigma -like
someone elses

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The Hijra Is Forbidden Fruit ..

you eat it
at your own risk
ravenously enticing
poisonous acute
with passion poetry
the fleshy part
you dilute
with oily hands
the soul of
the kernel
embedded deep
sticky like jack-fruit
the hijra is mysterious
a culinary curiosity
from the fire into
the frying pan
my poetic offshoot
raveena androgynous
seductive slithery
conniving but cute
dripping droplets
of sensuality
whether in a
low waist saree
or a hip clinging
pantsuit my
libidinous lecherously
lewd inner vision
through the camera
pays her a tribute
born a man clinging
to the embodiment
of a woman
erotic psychotic
almost neurotic
this hijra divine beauty
i salute
in my minds
pond of poetry
i visualize her
in a teeny weeny
itsy bitsy
body kissing
swim suit

marziya shakir who shot this picture wont ever be corrupted by camera club culture

226,735 items / 1,880,008 views

she wont be dictated terms by old farts
old fogeys who dont want change
she wont ever be polluted by salons
where style of pictures are tasteless
blind men following blind rules
same lighting same tribal women
standing at doors fucked silhouettes
i have saved my grand daughter
from being nailed crucified on
a camera club wall as black and white picture
no acceptance
no certificates of merit
no awards
i have saved my grand daughter
from bonded camera club photography
she wont fly soar on borrowed wings
thank you dr glenn losack md
for teaching marziya to unlearn photography
shalom shukriya danke merci

agle baras bhi ham khoon bahayenge ...apko hussain ka karishma dikhayenge

hamara khoon gawai deta hai..jahan yazid wahan shaitan rehta hai

Hamein Kafir Woh Kehte Hain..Musalmanon ka Khoon Kar ke Woh Musalman Ban Kar Rehte Hain