Tuesday, April 17, 2012

The Shakirs of Bandra

I thank all of you , who have added me to Google+Circles..

From left
+Nerjis Asif Shakir 9 month old
Zaira Saif Shakir 6 month old
+Marziya Shakir 4 year old

My 3 gifted waiting in the wings street photographers .Marziya Shakir is an accomplished street photographer like me..
+Firoze Shakir

The Silhouette of a Street Photographer

Thank You Jack C Crawford ..For The Gift..

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this is the graveyard of my lifes poetry.. my grand children will shoot it too

she is searching for
tomatoes for her lunch..
recession cash crunch
the spirit was was willing
the hungry stomach
needs something
to munch ... overripe
fruits a spinach bunch
prawns fish crabs
my poetic hunch

this is the graveyard of my lifes poetry.. my grand children will shoot it too

My Love Letters To Her Being Sent To The Garbage Heap

on the soul
of poetry
i weep
fallen asleep
as night falls
shadows creep
broken wings
into the furnace
tried to leap
recycled love
second hand
bought expensive
sold cheap

Saala Don Ko Sirf America Ki Police Pakad Sakti Hai..Khamosh

This Cross was Served a Demolition Notice ..But It Lives ..It Forgives ..





you wont hear anything
bells dont ring
nor angels sing

there'll be no huge applause
no one waits there are no gaits
at heaven's doors

but in this world of uncertainty
one thing for sure you're meant for me

we'll fade away fade away like empty clouds
and all the broken promises that linger around
will fade away

and while you search for the NAKED TRUTHS
the Master claps with one hand as he laughs at you

and when you fall
ill pick you up
when you feel small
ill give you love

we'll fade away fade away like empty clouds
and all the broken promises that linger about

all life you're filled with envy
money and diamonds are all that you crave
even in love you feel empty
even in love you're a slave

even in love you feel empty
even in love you're a slave

but in the beginning
you'll hear a choir sing
and suddenly you've become a part of
fade out…………………

Hope In West Bengal Has Gone Blind .. Forever ..

229,572 items / 1,923,157 views

she has
lost it
not at all clever
tears on the soul
of tagore
the land culture
we love and revere

mamta ki chaon
main patjhad
andhera pyasa kua
inhe akal a jaye
yeh hai hamari
aur khuda se dua
mat lo garibon
ki apne desh
wasiyon ki
phir jab takht
palat jayega
yeh mat kehna
yeh kaise hua
kalam aur talwar
se age ganeshji ka
computer hilane
wala chua

Says Nerjis Asif Shakir The Tongue Is the Greatest Weapon of Mass Destruction

My One Hour Lunch Time Gets Over Before It Begins

Two Mystical Street Photographers

Two Malangs Shot By Missus

Two Modern Malangs of Mumbai

The 9 Month Old Teacher Nerjis Asif Shakir

Yesterday thanks to a political conniving situation , we the citizens of Mumbai were held to ransom by a despotic trade unionist, when he wants to flex his muscles he calls a ricksha strike and the government which is a part of his career rise watches in eunuch silence..we suffer and take it in our stride because this flip side of democracy has made us eunuchs too.

If the rikhsha unions have an issue with the government why make the people suffer fails me and no legal or police action will ever be taken as it is the ethos of our politics , they protect save their own kind , compulsions of political survival..

And I am not a political activist I have swellings on my feet so I walked home from work to spend the precious one hour with my grand daughter the wise Malang Nerjis Asiif Shakir .. and really an hour is not enough.. if you are a grand father you will know what it means to love your childrens children.

Grand parenting is reliving the moments of your own childrens life , I never saw my children grow as a alcoholic now reformed I was like a genie in a bottle , so a forgiving God of Humanity gave me a second chance and I am making the most of it.

When I walked back home again after work my grand daughter was waiting for me, she knows the timings , she knows the beat of my heart and she loves the laptop, my mobile phone and my camera.

She loves me because I feed her give her the taste of jambuls , grapes oranges her mother would kill me..she does not want Nerjis Asif Shakir to go the Marziya way..

And Nerjis Asif Shakir is a protected child , she has fought her way out of a serious ailment, so she does not trust people, she is vulnerable scared , I am trying to remove those barriers I do it on Sunday my day off.

My third grand daughter 6 month old computer savvy Zaira Saif Shakir is at her maternal grand parents house I miss her too.

Marziya Shakir watches cartoons loves to mimic and is the head of the gang..she is the celebrity in our area all the beggars know her and wait for her to shoot them..

Picture was shot by my sweet simple patient wife.. on the Canon EOS 7D

The Pain of Living And Dying

Satisfied all alone
knows all is well
its our mind
on the soul of human
creates heaven and hell
we are the cause
against which we rebel
we conceal all our
pain we are scared
to tell but sharing
caring our pain
the cockerel
will soon
be slaughtered
to appease
the goddess
his poetic
death knell

inspired by a seagull on google+

She is the Most Enterprising Woman in the Market

She has a husband who is a dumb fool , he does what she tells him, assists her with her marketing skills whatever she sells she charges a fancy price but she makes her goods appear the best, the same is available at the next street stall but people buy from her.. she believes in what she sells..

She sells jambuls blueberries that are good for diabetes , maize fruits and now she is selling live desi chicken, actually the chicken coop belongs to a Muslim man but she has taken it from him , and is selling the same what he sold at nominal rates she sells at a premium..

And she is a Hindu, yest there is not distrust between the two as street sellers , I shoot her because she is a lesson in street marketing, she is a hardworking woman and through my pictures she will never ever see I pay tribute to her..

I dont just shoot beggars I shoot life I shoot the will to live with dignity on their own terms ..

And what you in the West call street photography shooting the surface scratching the surface with images , I shoot the same adding my mystical mind on the soul of my pictures I dont have to brag..I document ordinary life which people refuse to see so my pictures look different, I shoot differently..

I learn photography , read that as unlearn from a 4 year old child my grand daughter Marziya Shakir, he hold on a heavy camera Canon EOS 7 D but she shoots , she gets tired too after sometime so soon I have to buy her a light weight camera so she continues shooting the same stuff I shoot adding a new dimension to it without bias ..

Do children have bias.. prejudice , we create it in them we destroy the innocence of our children with our narrowness of mind and thought..

Its 5.22 am and I am catching up with my textless pictures adding my retsless angst as prose but read it as poetry because that is how visualize pictures ob the soul of my camera consciousness.

Thank you good folks on Google+

i buy badlapur jambul at rs 250 kg,,

the stylish sunni muslim chador

This is a high fashion garb like the hijab , burkha copied from the Iranian chador , with flowing drapes and sheen , the Sunni Muslim girls women love it compared to the dull dreary black hijab or the face niqab..

The Shias wear Chador in tiny cotton prints or in black, and the Shia chador needs careful handling ..

My wife wears the chador and the hijab too .. and if it is very hot she wears the niqab..

And the last two days in Mumbai were the hottest , yesterday Sunday was the hottest day ..

The Bhaiyya Is Talking To His Friend In Uttar Pradesh.. Bahenjis Parks are being converted to home for the poor

The Street Photographer

my pictures
are accidental
they come alive
on the soul
of my camera
pictures as poems
poems as thoughts
beggar mothers
in their laps
hungry tots
my genre
shooting pain
adding it
to a slot
says the skeptic
why the fuck
do you shoot
this shit
the poor
mans lot
i shoot
them so
even in your
you wont
forget them
like forget
me nots
for fuck sake
dont ask
me why not

I Shoot Single Frame .. Within a Frame Within a Frame

Shooting Pictures As Photograph is Very Easy ... It Is When you Shoot it as a Blog That You Add Pain And Humanity To It ..

Than I Wonder If Allah Preaches Peace And Brotherhood Why Do Muslims Gluttonously Love Killing Muslims

Mother Why Were We Born.. ?

The Untold Story of the Muslim Beggar - Beg Till You Die

time you cannot buy
you were born broke
broke you will die
your children will
complete the cycle
beg beg till they
too end up in a sty
beg beg beg
hook or by crook
molten tears
dont lie
has no time
to here your plea
maf karo bahen
maf karo bhai
age bado
kya padai aur likhai
jalti hui mom
kaisi diya salai
waqt deta hai gawai
rat ka sunsan
bedard tanhai
khuda maut dekar
zindagi ko de rehai
yeh kaisi duniya
tune banai
muslims love
killing muslims
a martyred moment
a poet weeps in mumbai

The Muslim Beggar On Friday 13

229,530 items / 1,922,837 views

Her Fridays are lucky even if they fall on the 13 simply because Friday is the day of the weekly congregational prayers or namaz..and a day of charity..

People rushing for namaz , pay her a few coins notes , and she sits here and has been shot by me previously too .. I dont ask her questions , but I do tell her to take some help from the Mosques but it is not much help as they are hardly entertained she tells me.. so it is the roads..

One thing is sure if I was a woman I could sit by her side understand her pain the story of her life..but its not possible , my wife is a very private person and does not make overtures to people at all, but if i tell her to give a beggar money she will do without hesitation..

My wife does not talk to strangers does not exchange views with whom she does not know.. but she does charity gives money to orphans and widow homes to which she is affiliated in our community..

I pay generously to the beggars I shoot , I give old clothes , whatever I can on humanitarian grounds and I give to all communities including the beggar hijras.. poor malangs and fakirs.

I once did tell a publisher if he published my poems I would give all the money to the children of prostitutes .. they have no godfather and their state is worse than the poor Hindu Muslim or Christian , their mother has been used abused maligned by all communities is something one does not need to deny..

But than my poems and my pictures are offensive to human taste , my pictures are real and the pain within real too.. so I give up..

After all they are Muslims aren't they.. I hate to say but it is Gods bitter truth on the soul of human semiconscious ..

And so life goes on I shoot beggars and share the poetry drama of their lives ..

Their children born to beg betrayed by Islamic society , a few coins but no rehabilitation.. and the government of the people by the people for the people cares a flying fuck..