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Showing posts from March 30, 2012

Amchi Mumbai

the badly fucked common man of india..

pictures are evolving every second on the streets ..

a car humping a

God God Bola Marathi Bola..

Hakim Saab Medicine Man ..Unani Medicine

The Common Man of India not a page 3 icon..

i shoot poems as fleeting moments in rhyme and time

fuck the world.. leave me alone

the house where pain lives happily with peace

pigeons that live here cannot fly welcome to Slumbai Mumbai

The Street Slums of Mumbai...

this is the city where i live...the soul of governance it wont forgive

the silhouette of the hijab

the indian man works without complain.. he carries another mans pain

On Your Mark Sets Go..

man is a withering tree broken branches fucked roots

god cursed woman the day she was born her pain has yet not gone

the cobbler wont shed tears on his leaders who let him down..

beggars at haji ali keep in touch on the mobile phone no big deal if he is using one

the bhaiyya ...has stopped seeing elephants going berserk in parks and breaking statues in his dreams

falling in love ruined me forever ...

it might sound strange but pictures wait for me to be shot...a pact between me god and a cosmic plot

this is a house without a roof windows or doors ...only a public floor

man was born in a cage lives in a cage dies in a cage ..he surely is not in gods image

i shoot prisoners of fucked karmic destiny ...

you can go ahead and fuck me i am immune to pain..

the muslim beggar was born crippled much before he entered his mothers womb

i shoot walls...bedraggled dreamless human dolls silent steps as footfalls

you can only see my world if you close your eyes.. i shoot darkness and despair

I was initiated into street photography...because poetry demanded I shoot it too

Moghul Masjid Iranian Mosque Mumbai

he is represented by people in parliament who became millionaires overnight he will always be where he is

i fell in love she skinned me and than blew me away..seeds of wrath

man is mans greatest enemy on earth.. hate that he bought to earth..

i stopped dabbling and destroying the soul of my pictures .. i refuse to shoot black and white

My Pictures Tell Multiple Stories ...

The Silhouette of the Hijab

Life is on the Move...Crowded and Aloof.. A House Without a Roof

The Rich and The Poor Woman of India..The Great Divide

The Hijab Is a Protective Shield..

The Hand Cart Pushers of Mumbai

The Muslims of Uttar Pradesh Trust Mr Mulayam Singh..He Gave Them Hope He Gave Them Wings

The Muslims of Uttar Pradesh Trust Mr Mulayam Singh..He Gave Them Hope He Gave Them Wings, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. perhas the muslims of uttar pradesh
dont trust mullahs imams
who join the political bandwagon
for personal gain no other thing
build malls buy property
live like kings ..with every new
government that comes to power
a new song sing,,,to power
position as chamchas they cling
divide the community stones
they fling.. being a muslim
but called a shia sunni
sectarianism hate
the greatest curse
above all things
being an Indian
proud of our destiny
jai hind

welcome to the next five years of dirt and filth in mumbai...

from here come flowers that are placed at the feet of our lord..

from here come flowers that are placed at the feet of our lord.., a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. dadar flower market the dirtiest filthiest place on earth..

defacing the soul of poetry

defacing the soul of poetry, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. we love piddling our angst
on white washed walls
we dig our nose
we love scratching our balls
our armpits the stench
of open gutter in crowded trains
sanity we love to assault
we are born hypocrites
in others we love to find faults
we love to break rules
fuck the traffic signal
of life over speeding
we dont halt
drink drive kill
on fresh wounds
we sprinkle salt

har kahani main interval ke bad twist hota hai..picture nahi chali toh producar rota hai

The Chador

The Chador, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A chādor or chādar (Persian: چادر‎) is an outer garment or open cloak worn by many Iranian women and female teenagers in public spaces. Wearing this garment is one possible way in which a Muslim woman can follow the Islamic dress code known as ḥijāb. A chador is a full-body-length semicircle of fabric that is open down the front. This cloth is tossed over the woman's or girl's head, but then she holds it closed in the front. The chador has no hand openings, or any buttons, clasps, et cetera, but rather it is held closed by her hands or tucked under the wearers arms.

Traditionally a light coloured or printed chador was worn with a headscarf (rousari), a blouse (pirahan), and a long skirt (damaan); or else a blouse & skirt or dress over pants (shalvar), and these styles continue to be worn by many rural Iranian women, in particular by older women. Historically in urban location…