Sunday, September 22, 2013

If This Man Rapes A Woman How Will You Find Him...

Most of the places under the sky walk , flyovers bus stops have people of questionably character moving around , the guys who raped the women at Shakti Mill compound were there after their alleged number of rapes and nobody questioned then or booked them as vagrants because the system catches rich people to fleece them from the poor you get nothing no chamdi no damdi.

Most important fact of all the crime committed by hardcore criminals and newbies minor is that they are not at all scared of the khaki policeman.. I mean imagine a guy beating up a cop , because sorry to say the cops have allowed themselves to be over ridden by the public , letting go of lawbreakers for allegedly taking money at traffic signals ,,we have seen it all but who is complaining,,

Than when a cop comes in wielding the Danda to get rid of criminals like Mr Samad Shaikh of Bandra Police station he is shunted out... so all in all it is another brick in the wall.. and the cops I am with the cops overworked badly paid , over stressed bullied , traumatized at home at work , political pressures what does one do and both sides suffer ,,,

There are good bad ugly in all society and going for an overkill because of one man is not right ,,and what really hurts me that whether you ask for stringent punishment for rapists it will not end till the mindset of society is not changed ,,allowing people like drug addicts vagrants and repeated offenders on the street without checking on them how will the women ever be safe ,, bus cleaners violating children and school principals trying to hush up their acts to save the name of the school is bad all the way..

And as a street photographer I see so much that escapes the normal eye ,, if you come down the Bandra flyover near the sea link couples literally making it out , the slum kids watching them .. and the cops nowhere around what do you expect.. I leave the rest to juggle in your minds ,, as a blogger concerned senior citizen the rape of my city hurts the most .. by those that have turned a blind eye..each one holding to his chair ,, lest it go..

And even the coming elections wont change it till we change it ,,

My Mother Gets Beaten Everyday .. I Wish I Was A Boy

She is a beggar , and begs along with her child at Andheri, and they live on the roads , nowadays those who live in the slums forgive me cant be called poor anymore , some of the slums are bought up for crores of rupees .. slums at Behrampada , slums near Bandra west dont come cheap at all.

One slum that I visit often is the Bandra Compund or Shastri Nagar Bandrra station slums all sitting on plum real estate.. the rentals are very highly mostly tailoring embroidery workshops and manufacturing units ,,I think there are are a lot of wholesale markets that should be shifted out of city limits to ease traffic and standard of living.

I know most of the migrant workers bought to work on projects by outsourcing contractors are easily led into the prostitution trade and it will be another thousand years when prostitution is legalized in Mumbai..

I miss Arup Patnaik he was a good man who commanded respect he could read crowd behavior and I a sorry that he had to go unceremoniously and those that engineered the Azad Maidan riots are laughing all the way to the election booth ,, law and order in Mumbai is abysmal ..I get disgusted reading the papers and it will continue as nobody is accountable politics of coalition and survival and non stop blame game.

Good old Mumbai when it was called Bombay died in its sleep of overdose and it is not about what you call the city , Mumbai by any other name was always a safe city .. no more ,, there is a gloomy pall everywhere and it has nothing to do with onion smell.

I have witnessed the 93 Mumbai riots and I know what it was .. no effort was made either by State or the center to save the city when it burnt and was looted the cops just watched as though nothing was happening and for them it was Hindu Muslim for me it was all Indians who died as the satraps played politics and the rath drivers just mowed some some more people under their wheels.

My family my father was all Congress voters and less said the better ,,, my wife does not want to vote my children dont want to vote and I dont blame them and I voted a Congress corporator whose face I have yet to see in my area the dirtiest filthiest area in all of Bandra ,, literally a slum.. and those who nominated him dont care a damn either ,,, and things will change I am sure of that you cant fool all the people all the time ,,, the buck has to stop some place,

Phool Sadak Par Khilte Hain.. Inhe Log Pairon Tale Kuchalte Hain

There is not a single street in Mumbai where you dont find groups like this begging at traffic signals ,,little kids little girls running behind cars and in full view of authorities and money does change hands to look the other way.. at certain traffic signals the returns are good one such signal filled with nostalgia is the Talk of the Town signal off Marine Drive ,,, here the foreigners give good money,,,than comes the Regal signal , the Electric House Rajsi Bros signal,,

For some there is good money beneath the Khada Parsi signal here it is mostly Muslim beggars , deformed beggars ,, for drug addicts making a fast buck it is the JJ corner signal, most of the guys sleep beneath the fly over , take drugs openly and the JJ hospital Police station is just a few blocks away ,, the way I see it cops dont have time to mess with these lowest of the low.. it is not worth the effort or time.

The traffic signal I shot most of my pictures was the Turner Road traffic signal a documentary as a street photographer I knew all the urchins hijras ,, and this was possible as I worked close by for many years and another stint last year.

The Juhu Versova link road is famous for its hijras and the devdasi hijras I shot them a lot and then closed the shutter on all my transgender images over 20000 ..and most of the hijras that beg at trafic signals are men dressed as hijras or women dressed as hijras .. the latter at the Linking road signal.

There is a lot to shoot in Mumbai , if one wants too, if one has passion time and inclination for lofty fine art photographers shooting beggars street is akin to shooting shit lying on the road .. and fine art photographers , insect bird sunset mountain shooting photographers Mumbai is an arid wasteland..that is why most of them crawl out of their beehives to shoot Govinda at Dadar or Ganesh visarjan at Lalbagh or Girgaum chowpatty..

And if you are from Times Of India , the special press card than you meet the Kolis and shoot the Visarjan from the boats... I was adventurous once now no more I shoot the Maha Kumbh with the Naga Sadhus as my guru belongs to the Juna Akhada ..and so I will be shooting the Nasik Kumbh and bathing with the Nagas too.. My guru during the Shahi Snan calls me Ashok and I dont blame him.. though I am not dressed like him.. my guru dresses me up himself.. in white garbs..

And I digress this is a blog no editorial constrains ,, and luckily I dont have to lick his ass or give him head to get my picture published.. it is published without constrains.

Bloggers are opinionated , yes we are .. so we blog.. and are read and viewed ,,,

This was a picture I shot last year when I come to get my camera serviced at Natraj Rustomjee Andheri Canon Mastercare Service center ..

And I just got a call from Samsung Service head office Gurgaon regarding our Samsung LCD TV, I told them I will never buy a Samsung product ever , their parts are faulty and fall apart in a year or two I got a Westinghouse fridge 25 years old at my house I bought it when Mr Rajat Rawail who knew the manufacturers put in a good word to them on my behalf and it is working perfectly ,, it cost me Rs 50000 those days with the discount..

And my Flowerhorn I bought for Marziy Shakirs 6 birthday left me without a suicide note and the reason was a faulty heater ... and she was sad all day .. blaming me for abetting the suicide. luckily she did not call it murder ..

KG Maheshwari Indias Own Yusuf Karsh

government ne
neend se uthkar
samman diya
kaha babuji
kg mahehwari
ne bujaie
waqt ki pyas
birla house
main pale
lekin dil tha
neela akash
unko tha
ki karvat
ka ehsas

Once Upon a Time I Was a Photographer Too

over a cuckoos nest i flew
became a blogger 'thanks to
all my 3 gurus ..i am what
i am.. behind the camera
the soul of humanity i
shot giving equal respect
to muslims christians hindus
their culture rituals customs '
i have no issue ..

Mr Gopinath Sawant The Man Who Single Handedly Fought The Killer Crab

Mr Gopinath Sawant was once the Vice President Of PSI Mumbai ,, a very simple man dedicated simple photographer ., who hardly ever blew his trumpet , he used to encourage us newbies . , guide us and gave us tips in the most humblest manner .

Unfortunately people like him or even Mr BW Jatkar were treated badly by a few at the society, abused maligned , but they did not retaliate as they came from cultured backgrounds ,, and it saddens me the lowest ebb the values of photography had come those days..

However I wont chronicle all that but soon after Mr Gopinath Sawant was diagnosed with cancer there was no hope , but this Maratha fought valiantly ,, never gave an inch, and I admire his guts his courage ... he would call me from time to time and he calls me still , this great lover of humanity.. he would love my eid sheer korma ,, eat it deliciously and this is the essence of a true Mumbaikar ..
We would also meet at Lalbagh Chya Raja and he is a relative of another great photographer Mr Datta Sawant ,,last I met him when he came to tailor some stuff at my place for a wedding , he loved good clothes and his sartorial taste was wearing my hand stitched suits..

He has recovered from cancer , but the fight goes on he tells me ,,, it is people like Gopi that have made us what we are today.. he is part of my lifes story too, I too fought my alcoholism and did not give in today it has been a long time I never touched a drop or touched drugs or even a cigarette ,

And this is blogging it is going a few steps ahead of the picture you shot ,,..this is a blog of an old memory.. memories rejuvenate themselves through a blog..

Now in camera clubs they wont tell you about the blog because it ricochets on the face that insults and humiliates ..

The Eminent Judges of India At The PSI Annual Salon

This was a detour of my life as a novice photographer , I participated in competitive fine art photography,I was introduced to this art form by late Prof BW Jatkar who infected me deliriously with this bug, so we were like 3 musketeers the two of us including Mr KG Maheshwari..keeping each other updated about the results , those days , making fine prints sending them to the salons ,,I still have all the prints negatives slides that is the bane of deteriorating space in the house ,,Mr Jatkar God bless his soul made me a member of the two main pillars that one in Delhi run a a family fief and the other with the large shadow of Benu Da and the silhouetteof his soul embedded in in Mr Subroto Ray ,, I corresponded with most of the heads , being a starry eyed novice ..I corresponded and went Lucknow to meet late PC Little too.

But being a man not bound by photography limitations I saw the rut, the mishandling of our prints the biased judging a flower photographer etches his narrowness on street pictures , and the overall similarity of all salon contenders shooting the same bloody shit disillusioned me completely and mind you I am blogging this fresh on Facebook ,, these words I will copy paste on Flickr post ,,,

Even today the salon magazine camera newsletters barring a few photographers the rest of them are sunk in abysmal hell hole , it makes me puke all over ,.. and why has the change not come in because old farts whose time is up wont let go of the reins .. they dont wont young blood , at the helm they said the same when photoshop came and changed the rules of their Renaissance fucked up rules .. and the same fear when the digital era began.. there were young hopes but were trampled in no time and these are my personal views as a mystic visionary not bound to camera club rules of degradation and deterioration, call me a loser a failure as a photographer ..

I moved away from analogue photography completely from the corrupt politicization of the holy body soul enshrined in a camera club.. I began to walk backwards into my real world the street , the beggars , shooting documenting bomb blasts in Mumbai regional events ,,

And I owe a lot to people and the camera club but I wanted to be free blog .. learn from others and share my craft I am not a methodical teacher so I began teaching demystifying the camera body and soul on my my grand children from birth..and yes Fuck F stops .. they shoot pictures they see pictures they create pictures .. their testimony of their aspirations is a blog.. I blogged their lives their achievements ..I could not do the same for my children as I was an alcoholic a bad father and a lousy everything .. so photography I took up to give up booze and I gave up photography a more powerful intoxicating drug to become a blogger ..I have myriad flaws .. I am not perfect but I am changing even though the grave is not very far away in my case even as a Shia Muslim I have asked my family to give my corpse to Medicine ,, whatever parts working or in bad condition and to delete my presence my blogs my poetry from social network forum,, yes I intend to take that with me ,,

And the two people in this picture have helped me Mr Anil Risal Singh from Lucknow the city of my birth.. and Mr KG Maheshwariji who kept in touch with me on e mail he is not well so I miss receiving his wisdom.

But I met Mr Subroto Ray for a very short while a multifaceted personality I did not know what to give him..I gave him a old working condition antique camera ,, I was a camera collector 275 cameras when bad times came I gave it away for Rs 17000

And I am grateful for all those who helped me reach the other side of the bank .. as a blogger ,,

My Guru Shreekanth Malushte

This is a an old blog I bring forward via Aviary editing tool I use prolifically at Flickr to erase the color element of my pictures to etch my restless angst.... it was my 36000 blog that time when I posted it , in all humility typing with just one finger of a permanently damaged right hand I have crossed over 287000 blogs..Now read the old blog below..

Mr Shreekanth Malushte needs no introduction, this man is larger than life,he shot this picture.So though you dont see him, his presence fills my pictorial frame..
Mr Shreekanth Malushte is a ardent fan of George Eastman founder of Kodak company.
George Eastman was created by a restless God , and man in the restlessness of his mind created the Camera that changed all our lives.
The camera is an instrument of pranic healing..
It may have not healed the sickness that Mr George Eastman was undergoing when he ended it with the famous words in his suicide note..

"To my friends: My work is done. Why wait? ...

Mr Shreekanth Malushte teaches photography, at grass root level this ex professor of the prestigious Maharashtra College..

I was lucky to have been taught photography by him, when my friend Mr Subhash Solanki sold me my first camera Nikon F50..he handed me a visiting card of Mr Shreekanth Malushte..the rest is history.

My daughter learnt photography through Mr Malushte..waiting restlessly in the wings is Marziya Shakir my 9 month old grand daughter a child prodigy..
So I pray that God gives Mr Malushte a very long life so that Marziya can boast when she comes of age ..that she too learnt photography from Mr Shreekanth Malushte.

And yes Mr Shreekanth Malushte and his charming wife were there when her dad Asif Shakir got married..

Mr Malushte teaches an art called Unlearning Photography..
He makes you a camera instead, that you become the lens film and negative..
This can be crazy if it goes beyond the human limit..
Craziness is indeed a part of evolving in photography.
A photographer must be a poet to add the roundness to his pictorial soul.. an added asset and dimensional..
When I say poet or poetry I talk of a silence of the soul.. wordlessly through pictures.

Mr Sreekanth Malushte introduced me to the Photographic Society of India lovingly called PSI Mumbai that celebrates its annual day this 29 August 2008.

Through Mr Shreekanth Malushte who taught me my basics , I met my other two Gurus both giants and stalwarts Prof BW Jatkar and Dronacharya KG Maheshwari.

They took my love of photography to another high salon participation.. much before I became an incorrigible photo blogger.

On Dahi Handi Day I got a call from Mr Malushte if I could come to Jijamata Udhyan Byculla and model for his new students like I had done a few years back at the same venue.
I obliged and the picture shot by Mr Malushte is a result of this outing..
After shooting the colonial past , a few shots in the zoo I left to shoot the Dahi Handi..taking a cab from Byculla to Lalbagh.
So this is my new set at my Flickr photostream..
This is my 5099 post this month August.
36117 photoblogs since I joined Flickr in June 2007
Yes I would be homeless as photo blogger without Flickr..
From Flickr I cross blog to my other web sites.
All my pictures thoughts poetry originates at Flickr
You have to be signed in to see my world..for my graphic pictures of moharam and the naga sadhus and maha set on the transgender over 20000 images has been removed by me from public view ,, for personal reasons.

the shoe shine guy

the polishing
to make
the railways
rich ,, his
last cough
his last

The Last Temptation And Passion Of Mr Rajesh Khanna

as he sat there
all alone pondering
over his pain memories
flirtatiously on a swing
but not far from where
he sat stood sepulchral
death waiting in the wings
this great actors
breath he held by a
string..watching him in awe
the most respectful thing ,,
this phenomenon death
knew would not die mocking
his sting ,, as he blew smoke
tempestuous rings ,,ebb
flow of a dying spring ,,
the beginning the end of
his last innings ,,,

Jab Apki Yad Ati Hai Ham Apki Tasviron Ko Ek Naya Roop De Dete Hain

Mr Aditya Raj Kapoor Blesses My House And My Grand Daughter Marziya Shakir