Saturday, September 28, 2013

Mr PK Bhatia ,,,A Very Long Journey

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Mr PK Bhatia Veteran Photographer of Mumbai

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na kisi ki ankh ka nur hun na kisi k dil ka qarar hun jo kisi k kam na a sak main wo ek musht-e-gubar hun

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Hai apanaa dil to aawaaraa, naa jaane kis pe aayegaa

Safar mein hain ye banjaaraa, naa jaane kis pe aayegaa
Hai apanaa dil to aawaaraa, naa jaane kis pe aayegaa

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I Give Guided Tours Of Dirtiest Places In Bandra Online


this garden
of bliss is
close to
the jain
mandir
you just
cant miss
it advertises
coca cola
as is
where is
an extension
of bandra
bazar road
a place
you cant
dismiss
heritage
east indian
legacy
torn asunder
gone amiss
queen of
the suburbs
dirtiest
princess
dogs defecate
goats come
to piss..
bandra
oh sandra
sweet kiss

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Street Urchins Hyderabad

we give
birth to
hope
than kill
it on the
way ..
a child
is born
to beg
to struggle
no play
we are
human
but the
child
is made
of clay
here
today
tomorrow
gone away

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Street Fighting Beggar Women of Ajmer



I shot this in 2010 while trying to walk the mountains of Taragadh barefeet Ajmer , and the cacophonous sounds of fighting beggars can be heard in my ears even today..shooting beggars in Ajmer is one of the most daunting task as some of them can be really aggressive and there is a local mafia at work in collusion with the authorities , every one has a marked territory you cant usurp the begging space of another beggar ..

And they come in hordes live on the streets near the hillock on the way to Taragadh.. and they are everywhere the beggars of Ajmer ..like you love shooting flowers mountains and getting a kick I shoot beggars I dont get a kick but I showcase their lives pathetic conditions at pilgrim sites ,,,they sustain themselves entire families ..

Beggars at Ajmer come from WBengal Assam and Uttar Pradesh Bihar ..maybe Gujrat too.. Ajmer is hope for the homeless the needy and the Holy Saint provides ..

On the way to Taragadh there are lepers , diseased deformed beggars.. and I can go on shooting them forever some are cordial to me some are abusive but I shoot them nonetheless ..as a Malang I am now a recognizable mystic face .. beggars are kind some talk to me offer me tea..I have eaten with them.. and as I am not writer oriented I shoot pictures .. I am bad at remembering names I dont carry a pen or paper no Dictaphone just the universal eye of the camera aligned to my cosmic vision.

Beggar children work the most in some cases long hours keep changing their begging spots ,,but sometimes the goons snatch their money so the beggars allegedly work under the protection of the local mafia boss , he settles disputes .. he gets the pick of the litter too.. it is sad , dressed the way as I am .. in Ajmer it is no problem they think I am a Bawa too... some call me Camerewale Bawa..

I spend my time in Ajmer at the house of my host Peersab Fakru Miya Hujra no 6 ..I hardly shoot the Shrine , or I am at Char Yar sitting with the Malangs the Dam Madar Malangs I belong to this order .. with my foreigner friends .. or I sit with the Rafaees Jalali Chowk or the Hijra Bawas ..

Otherwise I am at Moti Katla with my hijra friends Naina Rubina and others or the eunuch children.. I sit with the Delhi hijras or the Bombay hijras ..being barefeet it is tough shooting their Sandals on the road..

Sometimes I go to Pushkar ,,, I did not go last year..

My transgender pictures are not for public view ..

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Namaste Ji Welcome For A Change


the saree
looks outdated
matronly they
claimed as
they cajoled
her tempted
her to buy
a nice western
dress designer
label though
indian by name
a lovely gown
a midi a bustier
to accentuate
her hour glass
attractive shape
comely frame ,
,transform
her to a diva
a fashionista
from a young
dame ,,set
her heart aflame
but she walked
away happy
with her saree
to a makeover
she was not
at all game
better luck
next time
her choice
you cant
blame

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Marziya Shakir Saw The World Of Beggars Through My Camera

she
wondered
quizzically
why i shot
what i shot
no sunsets
sunrise flowers
chubby kids
scenic spots
it was beggars
the homeless
street urchins
gender benders
i shot somewhat
the crumbling
edifice of human
pain the rot
i shot dying hope
on a bandra plot
groveling begging
pleading posturing
where they squat
my grand daughter
without a camera
captured their lot
than when i handed
her my camera she
began to shoot
exactly what i shot
carried it forward
to the dot..duplicating
my original thought
adding lines of
alignment to street
pain that i had forgot
she shot humanly
not like a trained
robot..humble
no not at all a
hotshot..my
lucky mascot
marziya shakir
3 year old
untaught

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Bandra Has Always Been Raped By The The Builder Politician Nexus


open space
old bungalows
is what they
want by hook
or by crook..
waiting
eagerly
for the CRZ
to open up
change its
facial
structure
its outlook
towers in
place of
shanties
a dream
fate
mistook

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Rail View House Mahim

opposite
the mahim
station standing
like a dream
as time touches
it moves away
it seems.
fastidiously
flirtatiously
losing steam
rain heavy showers
thunderstorms
have not yet
touched its beams
sky scrapers towers
rise in the air but
i am here alive
robust it screams

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My Bandra Dies Every Day


it is not
joggers park
mount mary
pali hill
union park
carter road
turner road
waterfield road
it has a unique
beauty of its own
dilapidated heritage
crumbling homes
memories engraved
in stone..a gaothan
once east indian
habitat its pride
bandra bazar road
open gutters a filthy
stinking municipal
market political
neglect ..it bemoans
they come during
elections hands folded
plastic smiles ..with
their chamchas
never alone after
elections winning
their throne they
disappear for 5
long years ..
not 'available
even on phone
callous calisthenics
of franchise denuded
democracy the only
milestone ..
my beloved bandra
'dying slowly ..excepting
the areas where they
live our areas unknown
zones ..lucky those
that lie at sea side
cemetery as tears
roll down the gravestone

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From Colaba Bazar Road I Came To Bandra Bandra Bazar Road...


time and destiny
uprooted my abode
from one end of my
city to another end
i was towed ..ups
downs upheavals
life showed..
on the wings of
karmic fate .. i rode
a path overshadowed
wrinkled hope gratuitously
i mellowed..she led
me by the nose i followed
seeds of a new beginning
in the queen of the suburbs
i sowed.. haunting sorrow
added..another chapter
to life's episode ..

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Ajmer Cap House


every type
of muslim cap
embroidered
hand stitched
even made
of karakul hair
chishtiya topi
nepali topi
all at the fair
lucknowi
rampuri
faizabadi
caps with
style flair
every type
of cap you
would want
to wear
come at
urus time
of khwajah
garib nawaz
of ajmer
buy one
take a spare
even your
old caps
they will
repair
during
election
time it
is gandhi
topi they
sell in pairs

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Aulaad waalon phoolon phalo Bhookhe garib ki ye hi dua hai

Paise do paise se tumhara kuch na ghatega daulat waalon
Le lo duaaye nirdhan ki dhan aur badhega daulat waalon
Usi ko mila hai jag mein jisne diya hai
Aulaad waalon ...

Lyricist: Prem Dhawan
ek phool do mali

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The Mumbaikar Is Waiting For Change


he lost
his bearing
his clothes
now they
call him
deranged
madman
insane
strange
for his
precious
vote for
stability
he got
an unstable
mind in
exchange
his hope
his vision
all gone
off range

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Tu Mila Hai To Ehsaas Hua Hai Mujhko Ye Meri Umr Mohabbat Ke Liye Thodi Ha

Ik Zara Saagame Daura Ka Bhi Haq Hai Jispar
Maine Wo Saans Bhi Tere Liye Rakh Chodi Hai
Tujhpe Ho Jaaoonga Qurbaan Tujhe Chaoonga

Main Tasavoor Bhi Judaai Ka Bhala Kaise Karoon
Maine Kimsat Ki Lakiron Se Churaaya Hai Tujhe

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