Thursday, October 24, 2013

There Is Deafning Silence on My Facebook Wall


I am
words
pictures
blood
sweat
tears
all in all
shooting
garbage
dumps
of bandra
bazar
suspected
dengue
says it all
but over
my dead
body they
wont crawl
i thought
of getting
admitted
at bhabha
municipal
hospital
sleeping
on the floor
with the homeless
the beggars the poor
from slums and chawls
no facebook no twitter
no uploads at flickr
no more scroll ,
death i am not
scared of it as
it holds my
testicular
fortitude
in oxymoron
haste by the balls
so i apologize to
all my friends
michami dukhadam
if i hurt them intentionally
unintentionally please
forgive me one and all
big and small..my
muse most of all
moments of her
lilting laughter
as she teased
me after every call
i have deemed
my body to medicine
my broken heart
my liver my spleen
gall bladder ..
my fragmented
genius my poetry
of life deathly pall
this screen shot of
my life without pokes
no groups no games
no applications
that make marc
zuckerburg rich
will i install
sepulchral solitude
funereal furnace
of my dying emotions
on the operating table
i will miss fred roland
eric anthony sukhi
hontu and dear randall
my brother glenn losack
will shoot moharam in
delhi all alone i
wont be cutting my head
after all..

dedicated to my daughter ,,,lol
my 3 grand children .. canon users
tiny but stately tall

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Mera Bachpan Mujhe Lauta Do

desh
ke shresht
neta mere
sapne
mujhe lauta
do ..mujhe
nanhi munni
gudiya phir
se bana do
mujhe aurat
bankar jeena
nahi mujhe
suli par
latka do
acid se
mera chehra
jala do..mera
baladkar hone
se pehle mujhe
ag main zinda
jala do..
main kothon
par nahi nachungi
main izamat ka
sauda nahi karoongi
mujhe phir ma ki
kok main marwado

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We Kill Farmers Dont We ,,,,

forced to
commit
suicide
such
is their
destiny
feeding
the nation
dying
tragically
the fields
weep
dolorously
for the plougher
who gave them
love hope
but was killed
by our politics
ingloriously

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My Flickr Stats

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The Dabbawalas of Bandra

I was always fascinated by the hardworking precision bound dabbawalas ..and it goes a long way back, in the early 80s I was working at a fashion store at Bandra and so the dabbawala bought my meals from home at Strand Cinema Colaba..and for that one service so many years back in gratitude I shoot the Dabbawalas I promote their gospel of peace .. and the Dabbawalas are pucca Marathi Manoos , simple and non controversial.. the only time they tok a holiday in the history of the Dabbbawalas was to support Mr Anna Hazare at Azad Maidan I shot that too.. so if I have a camera I stop them and shoot them , ..I know most of the guys from Bandra , and they know me and I inquire about their head man Mr Sopan..

And an American Management college to showcase the Dabbawalas requested me for their pictures and from an Italian photographer .. so now you know what Dabbawalas mean to me,,and what my pictures of Dabbawalas mean to the international community too.

I shoot them at NM Joshi Marg or Bandra Station ..I shot them in the rains , I shot them during the difficult times in the city ,,,Photography should have a purpose it should showcase other communities , faith cultural ethos ,, we street photographers show you darkness it is our leaders who should add light ,, we are just catalytic nothing more nothing less .

Will the government give the free housing , better facilities to their children , I dont know we as Indians are as hollow as drumsticks that dry and fall from trees.

See the Mill textile workers still waiting along with their third generation ,our political leaders in Maharashtra became multi billionaires on the votes of the common man and the Dalits.. and sadly both are waiting for change .. will it come I dont know.. it will come but perhaps only change the lives and lifestyle of our leaders only.

And this is certainly not a picture this is a story board of pain in a single frame, we shoot ,,, we are not film makers ..

Dabbawalas are a proud race , proud of being Maharashtrians and humble and respectful to their profession.. And I dont shoot Dabbawalas to write hogwash thesis ..I write with light ..

And for once I am happy to be a blogger I maybe opinionated , but I write shoot truthfully ,,, and Google Search keeps our dictum of faith in humanity alive ,,,if only Google Search would give bloggers like us free cameras and lenses .. but that has nothing to do with our content or our dreams..

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Spice of Life


living
dying
lost
moments
tearfall
crying
underlying
beneath
one layer
another
layer hope
putrefying
caught in
a mouse
trap..for
ever
clawing
no escape
as time
to go
drawing
a pain
receding
withdrawing

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This Is Chennai Where Onions Lie At a Womans Feet

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Onions Are Forever

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Tu Mare Pas Kya Hai... Mera Pas Pyaz Hai

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Bhai Main Pyaz Ka Mohtaj Hoon ..


ma ghar par
karti hai intezar
kaha paise
nahi chaihye
bhik main
sirf pyaz
le ana
beta honar
na karna
inkar
warna aj
phir ho
jayegi takrar
khane ka
maza adhura
main ho gayi
hoon bezar
bhikari beta
ka ma se
behad pyar
ma ko pyaz
bhoot sawar
kande ka bhau
gire ga zaroor
jab ayegi am
admi ki sarkar
common man
phr se hoga
super star


If wishes were horses,
beggars would ride -
mane bhikari ghode par sawar ,,,
angry young man in deewar

I shot this guy asking for onions instead of money ,, and this poem is for representational purpose

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Naya Zamana Ayega Jab Pyaz Ka Bhav Gir Jayega


chapati
pyaz ke
sath khate
hue garib
phir muskurayega
alu ko samose main
gale lagay ga,, alu
khushi ke mare
kach alu ban jayega
jab log sona nahi
pyaz ko zameen
se khojenge sant
sarkar banayega
aur sone ke bhau
pyaz ke samne
ek ana hojayega

na main koie
shayar na main
koie kavi..kanda
ke liye karo phanda
chara ghotala bhi
peeche reh jayega
jab right to reject
alu pyaz ka button
garib dabayega
rat ka bhula phir
subha laut ayega

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