Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Moharram aaya alam ka payam aa pahuncha

Moharram aaya alam ka payam aa pahuncha
Maqame qatal pe apne imam aa pahuncha
Bahao chashm se tum ashak ay azadaron
Ghame hussain alaihissalam aa pahuncha

Mir Anees

The Living Dead Lepers of Taragadh..

in the
was the
of pain
one felt
one heard
wings of
a slaughtered
bird..the silent
gasps flowing
blood on earth
pain the only
heritage of
since birth
life resurrection
of pathos
re birth

Dear Facebook Friends

Ghum mein sipar hain Faateh-e-Badr-o-Hunain (A.S) ki, Ma'yaar-e-sabr ye hai kay maan hain Hussain (A.S) ki."

"Tat'heer, Fatima (S.A) ki tabiyat ka naam hai,
Islam shahzadi (S.A) ki seerat ka naam hai,
Tasbeeh qurb-e-Haq ki alaamat ka naam hai,
Zehra (S.A) Zaboor-e-wird ki aayat ka naam hai;
Ghum mein sipar hain Faateh-e-Badr-o-Hunain (A.S) ki,
Ma'yaar-e-sabr ye hai kay maan hain Hussain (A.S) ki."

Hey There ,,,Beggar Poet

in silence
on a dogpile
of debts
one finger
on the

she inspires
me to live
a second a
at a time
though we
have never
met..the lady
on a mahim wall
veiled eyes
kohl laden eyes
plays hard to get
love of my eyes
an image blood
tears and sweat
of the artist who
lovingly created her
painted her in
sorrow ..a writhing
fish in a heartless net
she has en-caged me
traitorously tragically
wont forgive forget
a wingless talkative
parrot her reluctant
pet..if only my
poets pain in simple
spoken English
she could interpret

monsoonal seminal
showers as she gets
blithely  wet,,,

Kambakht Khatmal jab Uthate Hain Ham Creative Mode Main A Jate Hain..

thodi der achi neend soye they..
pasine main tar uthe ..light kholi
aur khatmal..bister par charon
tarf they .. ek ek kar ke mara
madar chodon ko ,,,ab takiye
pe khoon ke dabhe pahley hue
zindagi ke adhure kah kakhaye
sapnon ke bahar chaukat par
ham akele reh gaye....

I was very tired today , in the evening I was at Mr Adnan Samis house for some official work, and meeting him is a source of joy, his personality is such that it touches my humility ,,,I returned home , had a hasty dinner , and my better half leaves for Karbala m this time my daughter made her dream possible ,,,

I have still not booked my ticket , just spoke to my nephew in Delhi that if I did come it would be for Ashura , shoot Moharam and return the following day by train.. and meet my American friend Glenn Losack...I am not too great a fan of Delhi.. The first time I went to Delhi was for the premiere of David Dhawans Eena Meena Dicka I wore a newspaper suit , the same that I had styled for Govinda in Gambler for the Meri Marzi song...

The second time I went to Delhi was to shoot Chehlum procession in 2006 , I cut my tendon while doing zanjir matam and kama , my hand is damaged permanently ,, my right hand curved like a serpent, and it is with the index finger of this clumsy hand I have typed all my blogs.. One Finger Blogger .. being a diabetic I decided to live with it than go through corrective surgery..

And I hardly shoot pictures , so while i walk the streets without a camera I do come across strange moments one hit me the most , a old lady crumpled on the road in sleep next to a picture of a laughing mocking clown... I thought it was a great picture but I was not destined to shoot it and mostly mad people I see on the street , some give me a bitter smile .. a smile that says Fuck he got away...

Marziya is very sad as he is totally attached to my wife, she fell asleep on my bed , and was lifted to her room..now she says she is over and done with fishes and birds and wants a cat..

Ever since the dengue thing in the air I hardly take my grad children out ,,,, totally stopped taking them to the bazar ,,,not worth it..

I had removed all my negs slides to sort it out but have no heart in destroying them put them back under the bed the very bed that plagues me with bugs , and I am away from my lap top most part of the day ,,I refuse to have Internet on my Black Berry..

This picture was shot by my friend Ayub Bhai a Flowerhorn breeder at his wrought iron workshop near Mahim Cemetery...

Digging For Onions At Bandra Reclamation... And The Seer Said Now Here In Mumbai Not Unnao

And Than We Got ,,,,, Fucked Living On The Streets

This Druggie Of Dadar Jumped Of The Divider ,,,Straight Into The Moving Cab

Mumbai ..Hee Shan Konachi

Mumbai Old And New ..

Mumbai ,,,Will Soon Be The Capital Of Rapes ,,,

Mumbai.. Where Old Is Demolished To Make Way For The Rich Mans Dreams

Mumbai Suffers From Vertigo..

ham aj apni maut ka saman le chale ..

The Cosmic Wheel Of Life And Street Photography.. A Text Book Of Raw Human Emotions

what you
see on the road
through the viewfinder
of your camera ,,,lessons
that you learn.. as told
perpetual pain of the
homeless urchins
untouchables beggars ..
young and old..
every frame you
shoot a story unfolds
nameless faceless souls
unlike those who shamelessly
search old monument
sites for riches and gold
we the people hooked
to superstition black magic
mumbo jumbo godmen
cheats frauds ..who leave
you in the wilderness of
your stray mind out
in the cold...the lens eye
third eye of shiva ..behold
captures dreams moments
manifold ..giving you wings
accelerating your mind out of
control ...beyond the threshold

Ayub Bhai Flowerhorn Breeder Hobbyist...My Good Friend

I met Ayub Bhai through an ad he had placed at OLX for black ghosts , he was selling I did not buy them but we became good friends , his business is wrought iron sculpture and molding,,, and at his workshop he breeds Flowerhorns and Discuss,..

I got the stand for Marziya Shakirs fish tank done by him at very minimal cost , he later rectified it too,,he is an excellent human being ,, his son 14 year old Faisal is learning the guitar...

our politics has put the poor indian to sleep..incurable disease called poverty

garib garib
rehta hai
amir hamara
neta hai
jo vote
to leta hai
in return
sirf mehngai
aur musibat
deta hai ..
garib sadak
par rehta hai
marta hai toh
do gaz zameen
bhi nahi milti hai
marna mana hai
waqt kehta hai .