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Showing posts from April, 2014

God Have Mercy On Me

whatever my shortcomings
 my failures my fault i ate
your salt ..followed all your
commandments thou shalt
when bad times came  i held
on to your faith i did not grumble
rebel or revolt ..you were the
light that led me through
pitfalls ..darkness surrounds
me even now my soul a
wailing wall..i beg on the streets
the birth of man his downfall

“Love is the cure,
for your pain will keep giving birth to more pain
until your eyes constantly exhale love as effortlessly as your body yields its scent.”


― Rumi

Swiatoslaw Wojtkowiak Point And Shoot

swiatoslaw.com/

We met in Ajmer and Swiatoslaw was documenting the Dam Madar Malangs walking from Delhi with them ..till they reach Ajmer .
My friend Marc de Clercq too was accompanying them and had told me about Swiatoslaw.

As his name is difficult to pronunce by us Indians he calls himself Duniya which means The World and he shoots the world od Darkness and Twilight ..he is a adventurer documenting witchcraft and other dark rituals all over the world .

For me as an amateur my meeting with him that lasted about an hour was a learning a form of unique experience ..

He was shooting Ajmer with a point and shoot and I too decided to follow his path of photography ,,, as long as your mind holds the camera vision you are beyond the reach of the camera be it Nikon or Canon.

Of late I hardly shoot pictures I have so much in my archives that old images tweaked via Aviary are reborn adding a new gist to the gesture of my restless angst..and I am a beggar poet .. words clinging to the drape of …

I Am A Beggar I Am A Muslim But I Am 100% India

politicized
marginalized
victimized
i am what
i am in my
 cavernous
 eyes ...
i live i die
i fall i rise
even god
refuses to
hear my cries
a sacrificial goat
on the soul of
my humanity
misplaced
sacrifice
you live once
you die twice

In Gods World Man Is A Beggar

what happened
that broke apart his
life , his cosmic pain
his inherent strife
homeless hopeless
begging on the street
a dreamer his dying
 dream of afterlife..

dedicated to sukhi hontu..

My Flickr Stats 29 April 2014

With Humility Thanks Love And Gratitude ..

I have removed my Hijras of India , CrossDressers , Mumbai Gay Parade shot by me from public view ,,

'we are all just prisoners here, of our own device'

ostentatious display
of wealth ..mammoth
rallies the name of
democracy ..

blitzkrieg to attain
the post of supremacy
the poor beg on the
streets .dance of lunacy

enslaved to a system
of false promises
failed governance
will we ever be free

as fate catches up
with time stealthily..

ab ki bar kaun banega PM
be part of history .

Who Forms The Next Government Or Who Is The Next PM ..Will It Change The Destiny of the Poor

i am not sure
politics of aggrandizement
politics of hate personal attacks
promoted by paid media
the common man endures
waters of hope poisoned
made impure .for this
malaise is there any cure
i am still not sure
the nation needs a healer
a messiah a savior
everything else obscure
the rich will become richer
the poor will always be poor

ab kin bar kaisi sarkar
politics of tour ,,,

MESSAGE FROM THE DESK OF DR. KINGSLEY MOGHALU

FROM THE DESK OF DR. KINGSLEY MOGHALU
DEPUTY GOVERNOR
CENTRAL BANK OF NIGERIA
Hello dear,
I wish to inform you that all matters relating to the release of this payment is now under my control and supervision. This development has become necessary  due to the activities of unpatriotic government/cbn officials and impostors who keep on frustrating every effort to settle our clients by making requests for  unauthorized fees and levies from them.we sincerely apologize for any delay you might have encountered in the past; your payment is now 100% guaranteed.i am dr.kingsley c. Moghalu the deputy governor cbn.i was mandated by the president federal republic in conjunction with the federal executive council (fec),
The senate committee on foreign debts reconciliation and implementation panel on contract/inheritance/compensation funds to complete the entire unpaid  contract/inheritance/lottery fund. You are required as a matter of urgency to reconfirm your information including your name, pho…

Yeh Toh Khwajah Ka Karam Hai

from every corner they come
to holy saint khwajah garib nawazs
kingdom..a kingdom of humanity
everyone is welcome..the chadars
sandal the drums dancing damsels
painted faces ,the trinkets ..as kids
frolicking ecstatic with joy ..music
rhythm ..the beggars  lame blind
deformed cripple lepers ..invoking
the holy saints sanctum..

“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.” ― Rumi

Why do you stay in prisonWhen the door is so wide open?” ― Rumi,

The Lion Of Ajmer Peersaab Fakhru Miya Hujra No6

I Dont Know Whether I Am Destined To Go To Ajmer Sharif This Year

We All Live In A Glass Cage

reflecting pain sorrow of our age
we are actors do our selected part
on a revolving stage ..to criticism
we take umbrage ..we are born
of a tempestuous rage  ..etching our
karmic calisthenics on another woman's
page ..we are sinners saints and sage
changing the destiny  of this modern age

The Indian Votes

Like a beggar with his bowl
for hope better prospects
human goals ..but finds to
his dismay that he will
soon be forgotten..
for the next five years
dead soul..disillusionment
his name deleted when he
comes out to poll ..
politics is about making
the candidate rich his
priority sand oil coal
the poor man perishes
a story time told .
paid media creates
monsters saints ..
a story unfolds ..

democracy on hold

Women Empowerment Is Only For The Rich ..And The Super Bitch

Oh God This Time Give Us A Good Honest Clean Government !

not one that promotes
scams corruption ..
where the supreme leader
watches mute silent from
a distant as his ministers
fleece the poor plunder
 the soul with their evil
involvement
becoming rich overnight
with enticement ..
no progress no peace
no development ,,
coalition compulsions
anarchy murders rape
rule of the gun..
devastation and arson

What Is Wrong With Indian Politics ????

Indian Politics Is About PMs Chair Lust For Power ,Personal Attacks , Religious Bias but not about Governance Law And Order Human Welfare

The Sacrificial Vote

hidden in the ballot box
within the click of an EVM
machine ..my reluctant vote
on 16 may will it add to
the destiny of the winner
a thought remote
the beggar poet of
mumbai a turban
rings jute linen
waistcoat ..
the voter
in the end
of all this chaos
 natak drama
unrepentant
scapegoat

Faanoos banke jiski hifaazat hawa kare ... woh shama kya bhuje jise roshan khuda kare

Danny Denzongpa .. Dialogues

Apna ussool kehta hai ... daayen haath se jurm karo ... baayen haath ko pata bhi na chale  Agneepath

Kamzor ki dosti ... taqatwar ke vaar ko kam kar deti hai  Agneepath

Good Bye Mr Vic Gundotra Google+

Good Luck God Speed

Twitter Is A Wrestling Ground For A Few Bullshitters

Twitter Ek Akhada Hai
Na Jane Yahan Kisne Kisko Pachada Hai..

Sir Yahan Pani Khoon Se Gada Hai

A MESSAGE FROM ALI SULAMAN

I am Mr Ali Sulaman the manager Audit & Accounts dept. in BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A).
I am writing to request your assistance to transfer the sum of $20, 000.000.00
[Twenty million, United States dollars) into your accounts. The above sum belongs
to our deceased customer late Mr. Morris Thompson an American who died along
with his entire family in the plane crash of Alaska Airlines Flight 261 which
crashed on January 31 2000, including his wife and only daughter. and since
then the fund has been in a suspense account.

After my further investigation, I discovered that Mr. Morris Thompson died with
his next of kin and according to the laws and constitution guiding this banking
institution, it states that after the expiration of (12 TO 13 year)  if no body
or person comes for the claim as the next of kin, the fund will be transferred
to national treasury as unclaimed fund. Because of the static of this transaction
I want you to stand as the next of kin so that our bank will accord you t…

Amma Apki Bar Kaisi Sarkar

charon taraf nafrat  ki deewar
har har modi ki pukar ..lagta
hai dar amma mujhko is bar
yeh kaise kal ka intezar
kahan gaya bhaichara aur pyar
dehshat ki  ahat ..waqt ki pukar
kaisa  anubhav kaisi  raftar

Mumbai Main Vote Wali Ungli Paralyzed HoGaee

The Beggar Poet On Vimeo

shot by kim dorff

The Beggar Poet On Vimeo

My Flower Horn Is Upset It Cannot Vote

I gave my precious vote to save bandra bazar road

picture shot by nerjis asif shakir
two year old to remind all of you
 not to make our dying bandra
a sacrificial goat .. to priya dutt
punam mahajan phiroze palkivala
abu farhan azmi . whomsoever wins
our very personal note ..our area
deserves self respect dignity not
just another coat ..with our inked
fingers we keep democracy afloat

I did not press NOTA ....
I sensibly used my vote

Phata Poster Nikla Voter

I VOTED DID YOU

VOTE AND FIND OUT AB KI BAR KISKI SARKAR

Firoze Shakir The Greatness of a Nation can be Judged by the Way its Votes ..

Wake Up Sid ,, Time You Did
Vote An Evil System Out ,, Get Rid



In a gentle way, VOTE you can shake the world

To Change Today Into A Better Tomorrow - You Need To Go And Vote

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.”


― Mahatma Gandhi

Spamming The Soul Of The Beggar Poet Of Mumbai

Hello Dear Friend,

My name is Colonel Dyke McClellan, one of American Combat Soldier involved during an anti-looting operation in Iraq. We discovered a huge stash cash $600 Million US Dollars found hidden behind a false wall. After submission to our command with my colleagues, i was rewarded greatly and able to save $10 Million U.S Dollars for myself in a consignment box. I need your assistance to receive this box on my behalf in your country.


We learnt that the fund belongs to regime leaders fleeing as coalition forces advanced on the Iraqi capital. You will find the story of the money on the web address below. news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/2967029.stm

Please kindly keep this transaction Confidential because i am still serving in the Military camp in Afghanistan. Kindly get back to me with your name and mobile number for easy communication on this id: [Col.DykeMcClellan@usa.com]

Yours Sincerely,
Colonel Dyke McClellan
US Military in Afghanistan
Hello Dear Friend,

My name is Colone…

सियासत मुफलिसोँ पर ये एहसान करती है.. आँखे छीनती है और चश्मे दान करती है |

the system is so corrupt
after rendering the soul
of humanity blind it
offers glasses a thought
erupts ..democracy makes
the politicians rich the poor
bankrupt ..once he has
given his precious vote
for 5 long years he is
walloped ..useless hollow
talk under the cover of
misplaced religiosity
besides sectarian hate
sending Muslims to Pakistan
honestly what can they develop
hyperbolic statements in an
empty envelop..

Tears on the Soul of Innocent Varnasi
every politician crook smuggler wants
to make his mark...a city where gods
are revered worshiped..motor mouths
in the name of sanity shooting from the lips


dedicated to mr arvind kejiwal ji



Anand Mara Nahi, Anand Marte Nahi

Dad Once I Grow Big You Will Never Have To Beg

i shall become your eyes proudly he said
holding in his tiny hands his blind dads
stick white and red ..but than what can
one do who gives a blind man jobs
so they begged to earn their daily
bread..all around hollow election promises
yeh sarkar woh sarkar ..the fear the dread
no one touches the heart of humanity
once they won the elections they all fled
looting raping the soul of mother india
we the people watching silently held
captives in chains as the poison spread

Two Friends ...An American And An Indian

“Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”
― Albert Camus

we met via the internet
from ipernity to flickr to
buzznet ..it was my moharam
pictures blood tears sweat
he wanted to shoot it too
like me he hated sunsets
he came to mumbai ..
he shot haji malang
the pain of the shias
their silhouette ..
with the beggars
he had a cosmic connect
his pictures poems
without text.. feelings
without pretext
the jama masjid of
delhi beneath the minaret
he left behind memories
he wont ever forget
a photographer
documentarist
photo adventurer
seeking an outlet

in love with india
he has not got
over it as yet

dr glenn losack
the beggar poet
all set ....

NOTA Is My Right To Reject

i wont be a Muslim vote
i can use my mind use my head
in my constituency nothing much
has changed ..they came got
elected stealthily fled
leaving us we the people
the living dead..

Mumbai Is A Weeping Gutter Of Despair

looted by
everyone
gasping for air
defecating on
the face of its
sanctity a gross
living nightmare
slums created
by political satraps
as vote banks
mushroom
everywhere
Mumbai a city
caught in a snare
the homeless
on one side
the other side
towers of babel
of the millionaire
a forgotten
middle class
distant dreams
threadbare
the pain of the
mee mumbaikar
remorse n despair
bogus netas
bogus godmen
bogus police
conning the
gullible unaware
memories of
the riots bomb
blasts misplaced
welfare ..will the
next government
the next new PM
give mumbai its
rightful share
unite bollywood
unite all caste
color creed
when he sits
on the chair
or will he forget
his tall promises
his vision of
one India
healing touch
holistic care
introspect
heritage
legacy
when he
has some
time to spare

The Muslim Mother

Subha uthkar nashta banana hai
phiri bachi ko school le jana hai
ghar aakar khana pakana hai
wapas bachi ko ghar lana hai
homework uska karana ..
kapde dhona , bartan manjna
sham ko bachi ko joggers park
le jana hai..jhule aur slide
par bhitna hai.. ghode ka
round dilwana hai ..woh
ayenge thake mare unke
pair sar dabana hai khana
unhe bhi khilana hai .
bati ka bulb band kiya
gairi neend main so jana hai

You Intrigue Me Dear Friend

I like to think that every person comes into our life for a reason, a season or a life time.... even if it is just that passing stranger one smiles at on the street. There is a reason for that smile and that interaction. Sometimes we push a forever person away thinking they are only in our life for a reason or a season. Other times we cling to someone who we think should be in our life for a lifetime, but was only meant to be there a season. The internet has opened so many avenues of thought and experience sharing.....

Haunting Words Of A Friend ,, To Her Words My Picture I lend ,,Women Empowerment is Lip Service By Our
Government ..Vote And Repent ..
We Ink our finger to send our
representative to Pepper Spray
The Fools Parliament ..

Both Ladies And Gent ..
Formless Content ..Came Saw
Went ..Dance Of Democracy..
Send Muslims To Pakistan ..rants
shouts with Evil Intent....Tears on
The Soul of Counterfeit Secularism.
Mischief Hellbent ..Damaged
Full of Dents ,,

Urdu hai mera naam main Khusrau ki paheli

Urdu hai mera naam main Khusrau ki paheli
Main Meer ki humraaz hun Ghalib ki saheli

Kyun mujhko banate ho tassub ka nishana
Maine to kabhi khud ko musalmaan nahi maana


Dekha tha kabhi maine bhi khushiyo ka zamana
Apne hi watan me hun agar aaj akayli

Iqbal Ashar

Rest In Peace Advocate Adhik Shirodkar Sab..

The Bandra Where I Live Is Dying Of Neglect..

every five year
hands folded
with a plastic
smile as effect
they plead
cajole with
false promises
our partys candidate
you must vote elect
besides faulty paved
roads with far too
many defects they
gave rising prices
open gutters a filthy
town hall market
nothing else we
should expect
builder politician
nexus system
under suspect
insult to the
poor mans
common sense
intellect
robbed of
ancestral heritage
tears on the soul
of the east indian
gaothan..moments
to reflect..rebuild
broader roads
to make the rich
man richer on the
abode of the
poor slum dwellers
start another profitable
project. ..tell us now
must we suffer
another 5 years
must we re -elect
when nothing is
perfect  NOTA
the reply our
single silent
PROTEST
for better
prospects .
between
our leaders .
the common man
the poor man
total disconnect

Even Stray Dogs Are Treated Better Than Muslim Beggars

a skull cap protects his head ,
dog like legs he moves ahead .
.the sweaty street serves
as his bed .in a bowl he is
fed sometimes he curses
his fate wishes he was dead
 ..hands legs spread..those
who created him at birth fled ..
living dread ..his eyes
reflect his pain his pathos blood
red ,,underfed ..the sweat of his
brow he earns his daily bread

The Cosmic Circle Of Street Pain

humans bound to their
bedraggled destiny in
rusty heavy chains dreaming
of a better tomorrow
a dying hope remains..elusive
running down the gutter drain
mortal shreds of insanity
living with the sane ..
caught between a whirlwind
of a coagulated heart
dead brain ..the child
hungry thirsty ..to a
sleeping god complains

Chor Bazar The Market Of Thieves

I was once a regular visitor sun shine or rain
..i would rush to this crazy peoples
flea market a Friday Street Fair ..let down
my hair ..shooting faces sardonic their
mocking stare ..fools enter where angels
fear to dare .. I was ensnared ..

Its been many years I stopped going there
these pictures my momentous memories
of that glorious era I share ..

Chor Bazar Market Of Thieves

every frame every picture a new story
weaves , once you come here , your
poetic soul wont want to leave ..the past
now cobwebbed on the street side for
the good old days grieves..

gone the original owners of these masterpiece
, sold to the bhangarwala
for a few rupees ..memories gone with
the winds lost in the breeze ..

janewale ho sake toh laut ke ana an old
song plays ,at mutton street ....time in a freeze
..ruka hua waqt aur kisi aur ki
dehleez ,,bhulibjatki yadein kahan gaya
woh caravan .. adab aur tehzeeb,,

Happy Easter To All My Christian Friends

"I am with you always, until the end of the world" (Mt. 28:20)