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The Muslim Beggar Childs Pain

sitting beneath a tree
a beggar mother you
see pondering to be
or not to be on the
other hand in silence
a little baby tiny legs
born in captivity wonders
bemusedly this world
of pain torture suffering
hate sectarian strife
that they call humanity
did i make a mistake
the womb was far better
its darkness comforting
motherly .. i was being
nurtured fed ..not anymore
says she ..withered milk less
teats sucking the life out of me

Its Tough Being a Muslim Beggar Child

I have bought this post from the past forward to my timeline ..it was shot 4 years back

She and her mother come to my workspace every Thursday, I give them money and take a few pictures , the little one like being photographed..through my picture she gets to see the world free .Whats her future , well future is shy state of ones mind , it has hidden beneath the next toadstool..

She likes me and stands outside the doors of my shop , she knows I am the only guy who takes her picture and through my picture I give her respect, respect for being so small and taking up a selfless job of begging assisting her mother diligently.

And I meet them , or beggars like them , they meet me on the crossroads of the path of my camera.,,they are my subjects I shoot their life on the streets in available light , and I show you what others are too shy to show..that pain is universal, beyond the scathing realm of religiosity.

A normal beggar does not evoke such feelings like the Muslim women beggar and h…

The Muslim Beggar Lady of Bandra Hill Road

Among the Muslim beggars I shot , this was one lady who did not take kindly to me , she did not want me to photograph her , but I did and I paid her too .

Than  I simply stopped shooting her she sits now even today at Bandra Hill Road opposite the Bandra Police Station.

And mostly people give them coins to get rid of them sometimes they are lucky a kindly person will give them money for clothes and food.. there are many kind people and more as there are misers on this street ..the second most famous commercial street after Bandra Linking Road.

I have never talked to her and try to decipher her pain through the silence of my shot.. I shoot you fill the blanks and I hate adding text  as I type with one finger , it hurts after some time ..and I have 295000 blogs touched by this one magic finger that bemoans belonging to me lol

The Muslim Beggar Child

I have been shooting this child from the time she was a toddler and visited my workplace with her mother for alms ,,

Both mother and daughter came every Thursday and begged  from the shops on Bandra Hill Road .

I have not seen them now since 3 years ..

This lady had 3 daughters .

And it is fortunate I gave her my grandkids  old clothes and toys .. and money from time to time .

But she needed education , mother needs a job but than who hires beggars in Mumbai..

The Blind Beggar Of Mahim Dargah

Many years back before I shot him here at Mahim Dargah lane I had spotted  him in Ajmer Sharif.
And over the years shooting beggars I have come to the conclusion there is one lot of beggars  that follow the Urus circuit , they visit the main dargahs or holy shrines to beg and so they are incessantly on the move .

And the chances are getting good returns instead of hanging around in one street corner.

And if you really seriously think than Beggary is a full time profession too..there are slum women I am told who wear the hijab and go and beg in distant areas as the chances of being recognized is nil.

Some carry their kids too and this is the irony of being a minority not only in numbers  but in economic backwardness and living far the below the poverty line .

Alibagh Bullock Cart Race

It used to be a very tiring trip for me as I would take a cab from Bandra to Gateway of India pier , from the pier an hour trip by boat  or catamaran to Mandwa pier and a bus trip to Alibagh included in the boat fare.
Than at Alibagh Ihad snacks tea at Sumangal Restaurant and a ricksha to Jayant Dhulaps house a few minutes off the main Alibagh beach..

The races start post lunch after the tide goes in and than the bullocks arrive from neighboring areas districts .. the races continue for about 2 hours or so.

Than catching the last boat to Gateway of India .. if you miss the boat than the bus journey is a pain in the butt about 5 hours via Panvel.

Once I slept over at Dhulaps house and took the boat the next morning.

But the exciting part is the day before the races when the Kolis burn Holika in the fishing villages of Alibagh and Murud Janjira.

I Dont Just Shoot Beggars ..

Earlier I used to go to Alibagh on Holi to shoot the bullock cart races on the beach , and to Murud Janjira to shoot the same on Gudi Padwa. Than came the ban on these races and I stopped going to both the places .

I was told there was one in Murud this year but I did not go , its a long trip , very tiring and if the race is not there you come back empty handed , and will my deteriorating health I avoid such excursions.

But I miss the races the rising adrenalin I am not scared of Death I rush into the path of the racing bulls and take my shots

And every one knows me as the colorful mad photographer from Mumbai.


And it was these races , that taught me timing , I hated panning , and taking risks ..

And for all this I must thank  my gurus Shreekanth Malushte who bought me here the first time and than there was no looking back .Late Prof BW Jatkar who helped me a lot shooting this form of action and the seagulls on the boat that bought us fromGateway of India to Alibagh.
And last but not…

Begging Outside Gods Doors

the untouchable
lowest of the low
muslim beggar
woman for those
sanctimonious
is an eyesore
her kind they
give a few coins
shoo her away
far from his doors
to reach out to her
that possibility
they wont explore
muslim woman
a painful enigma
a sorrowful metaphor

forgive me she is
nothing just a pebble
washed away on the
sea shore ..a boat
rudderless without
oars ..her self respect
her dignity emasculated
egos are not willing to
restore ..when it rains
it pours ...but she
survives i am sure

Pain is never permanent. --Teresa of Avila

The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. -- Simone Weil

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings ..Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou (/ˈmaɪ.ə ˈændʒəloʊ/;[1][2] born Marguerite Annie Johnson; April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014) was an American author and poet. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, and several books of poetry, and was credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning more than 50 years. She received dozens of awards and over 30 honorary doctoral degrees. Angelou is best known for her series of seven autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), tells of her life up to the age of seventeen and brought her international recognition and acclaim.

She became a poet and writer after a series of occupations as a young adult, including fry cook, prostitute, nightclub dancer and performer, cast member of the opera Porgy and Bess, coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and journalist in Egypt and Ghana during the days of decolonization. She was an actor, writer…

Perhaps Even God Like Our Own Minister Feels Muslims Are Not A Minority

perhaps not even part
of humanity .. the muslim
beggar a minority within
a caved in minority living
on your leftovers your alms
your charity ..devoid of hope
justice equality .. from the
cosmic prison will never be
free . born bred in captivity

Motherhood Betrayed

motherhood misplaced
looking at the future in the
face muslim beggar mother
is afraid will her daughter too
have to beg as she begs now
chills her spine such depressing
thoughts her mind invades
people rushing to the mosque
hurriedly throw a few coins
god cannot be made to wait
sanctimonious muslim society
has no time for her welfare
her problems they say are
her destiny self made
between her world their
world a torturous barricade
justice delayed ..a minority
within a minority muslim
beggars work hard underpaid
try as hard as you can
to remove them from you
holier than thou consciousness
they wont fade ..god is great
when you fail them he comes
out of the blues to their aid

for bakra eid you slaughter goats
camels worth lacs of rupees but
for the beggars ,,,a few coins
a message waylaid..










My Child Has A Dream Does Not Want To Be A Beggar It Seems

but i as a mother forced to beg
 i shout at her and scream ..
i plead to her that as mother
as daughter we have to
supplement the family income
work as a team..in the beginning
of a this arduous task bismillah
ir rahmanir rahim ..her womb ready
to burst forth with another gift to
humanity her husbands only wish
hope of a male inheritor yet to
be born prince of beggars fahim

i have solidified the tears of this
muslim mother like the other
beggar mothers on my flickr
photo stream..live stream

The Muslim Beggar Caught In A Deluge

in the void of her despair she seeks refuge ..her problems humongous huge

Good Morning From My World Of Darkness And Gloom

much before she was born
much before circumstances
forced her into a beggar
her hopes died before they
could bloom dogeared
destiny deleted and doomed
motherhood languishing
on the streets a few coins
thrown mundanely at her feet
fruit of the loom ..the untouchable
lowest of the low of muslim
society kept at arms length
i presume ..dreams once lived
now hastily buried entombed
 tears on the soul of her
manufacturing womb ..a male
son some more children to beg
woe on the emasculated ego
of her husband .forced to beg
a void a darkness within the vacuum
yes i shoot muslim beggars
to showcase their agony neglect
apathy inhumanity ..a thought
not of concern to paid media
our sanctimonious holier than
than thou the indian press room


My Tribute To Sibte Jaffar Sab Jab Imam Ayenge

Haal-e-Gham Sunayenge Jab Imam AyengeZakhm-e-Dil Dikhayenge Jab Imam AyengeMehfilein Jamaayenge Jab Imam AyengeBaam-o-Dar Sajayenge Jab Imam AyengeJashn Hum Manaayenge Jab Imam Ayenge1) Zakhm Hain Abhi Taza Makka Aur Madina KeyShaam-o-Kufa Karb-o-Bala Hum Bhula Nahin SakteyAz Saqifa Tayeen Dan Ghair Se Nahin PohncheyJitney Dukh Uthaye Hain Hum Ne Kalma Goyon SeyAik Aik Chukayenge Jab Imam Ayenge2) Shak Hai Jin Ko Allah Key Adal Aur Adalat ParMansab-e-Nubuwwat Par Syeda (S.A.) Ki Ismat ParMurtaza Ki Ahmed Se Muttasil Niyabat ParJin Ko Shak Hai Baara Par Barwein (AJTF) Ki Ghaibat3) Naam Par Sahaba Key Kaam Kafiron JaiseyNaam Par Sahaba Key Kaam Fasiqon JaiseyNaam Par Sahaba Key Kaam Munkiron JaiseyNaam Par Sahaba Key Kaam Mushrikon JaiseySab Hi Moon Churayenge Jab Imam Ayenge4) Dawa-e-Muhabbat Jo Subh-o-Shaam Kartey HainUn Key Dushmanon Se Bhi Rah-o-Rasm Rakhtey HainKhums Bhi Nahin Detey Gheebatein Bhi Kartey HainMominon Se Bhi Dil Mein Bughz-o-Keena Rakhtey HainKis Tarhan Nibhayenge J…

The Muslim Beggar .. Bandra Compound Slums .

Of late my street shots are on my mobile phone Motorola G that was was gifted to me by my son.
Earlier I used the Blackberry curve but never shot pictures on it ,, hated shooting pictures on the mobile .. dont know why maybe I was too hung up on my DSLR's

I come here very often ,there are a lot of tailoring embroidery workshops here.

Lots of butcher shops , chicken shops and   this is a typical Muslim ghetto ,it has many tiny bylanes , pigeon hole for houses , gutter running outside the houses, kids shitting bathing women washing clothes you see it all here .

 From the lane where I shot my earlier slum pictures I walk straight ahead in the heart of the slums I will exit at Shastri Nagar slums that stretches till the railway tracks of Bandra west.

You walk out towards the Bandra bus depot , the Station Road Sunni Masjid and the Bandra Station.

So back to  my picture of the Muslim beggar ,this is a busy lane you enter all the main arteries of the Bandra Compound slums tiny dinghy p…

I Tried To Ask Myself Why I Shoot Beggars.,

silence replied
in muted echo less
cry..a tear dropped
a mournful sigh
as i live within
every captive
frame i shoot
i die ..

i cant shoot
blooming buds
blushing flowers
snow capped
mountains
sunsets
i would
commit suicide
my pain within
the silhouette
of the beggar
i hide

“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou (/ˈmaɪ.ə ˈændʒəloʊ/;[1][2] born Marguerite Ann Johnson; April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014) was an American author and poet. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, and several books of poetry, and is credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning more than fifty years. She received dozens of awards and over thirty honorary doctoral degrees. Angelou is best known for her series of seven autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), tells of her life up to the age of seventeen, and brought her international recognition and acclaim.

She became a poet and writer after a series of occupations as a young adult, including fry cook, prostitute, night-club dancer and performer, cast-member of the opera Porgy and Bess, coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and journalist in Egypt and Ghana during the days of decolonization. She was an actor, …

it is not easy shooting the flaws of the human soul

Jab Khuda Ne Nahi Diya To Insaan Se Manga

insan
ko fursat kahan
masjid banana zuroori hai
madrsa banana  zuroori hai
bhik mangna hamari mujboori hai
unki duniya khuda salamat rakhhe
hamme aur unme kafi doori hai

I Forced The Mind of My Camera To Shoot Muslim Beggars

Zindagi Ek Daraona Khab Hai - Talaq Talaq Talaq

chand paise deke
admi ko milta swab hai
bheek mangti mamta
ki to kismat kharab hai
kaisa sawal aur kaisa
 jawab hai
teen bar talaq kehke
ek nayi biwi
ek nayi shuruwat hai

Greetings From The Dark Side Of The Moon

'Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud' Maya Angelou



god in his mercy
his kindness
his benevolence
blessed me soon
i am lucky i was
like a few muslims
not born with a
silver spoon
i struggled through
my childhood womanhood
misplaced motherhood
held in the dark soul
of a cocoon
the child in my arms
is his boon ..
we beg with dignity
living on the edge
in a commune
happiness hope have
not touched us yet
darkness at dawn
our misfortune

the music of life
sans lyrics or tune

Beauty Never Dies - Kashmiri Beggars

This is the lot of the Kashmiri beggars , and here  beauty signifies the inner strength that keeps their hopes alive begging for food and victuals at the Bandra Bazar market..I shot this a poet , this is a poem of misplaced life, as it affects not only them but me too, its like walking on the shore spotting a fish that accidentally jumped on land and cant get back to her home in the waters..I see this but a fence protects me from moving forward.. the fence is lack of political will, the politician more busy with his intrigues , saving his seat rather than saving misplaced lives..

And this is Kashmiryat as it burns like sandal wood on the pyre of humanity..

I am not a filmmaker , I am not an activist but yes I shoot pain as I see it on the viewfinder of my cameras soul...and my attire is strange, and their smirks their child like curiosity seeing me and their footsteps hitting the streets of adversity..

An I shall shoot Kashmiri beggars to awaken the comatose soul of society in deep s…

Plight of The Kashmiri Beggars In Mumbai

I documented the Muslim beggars to showcase their lifes struggle , and it was the Muslim beggar that interested me as a photo blog, and in my pictures you will notice it is the Muslim woman her children begging the male link is missing ,,

I did once ask a young  Muslim beggar lady and she had 3 daughters from Andhra her husband was a tailor could not make ends meet so she begged coming to my workplace every Thursday..

But the story of the Kashmiri migrants is very strange , they beg , the male robust of good health with his wife children going from door to door ,and I documented them separately ,but as part of my Muslim beggar set at Flickr.

They have pretty cute young kids , also begging with their parents for alms food and clothing.

You also find them at Mahim begging during the Urus of Makhdhoom Shah Baba.

I have never talked to them , and they stay at the Bandra pipeline under very harsh sever conditions in makeshift tents , no toilet facility ..and imagine away from their belove…

Madam Najma Heptullahji, apko Ministership Mubarak Ho..

from the muslim beggars of mumbai

The Untouchables Of Muslim Society

eponymous but incongruously
called the minority begging
living below the poverty
line on your mercy charity
enslaved to bad times will
never be free .appeased only
by the political sanctimonious
class  our great nations tragedy
please do not compare them at
all to jains or parsis  an insult
to both those faith which respects
humanity ..these are the lost tribe
searching for hope justice equality
people sympathize with them
but marginalized .. the only reality

Beware Of Flickr Spam..

From:


tivapepeheg
Malya Curner
Subject:

Firoze, about your great pics


Hi Firoze, your photos are stunning.

I want to purchase some of your pics for my photography site, could you be interested? I can pay $60-$80 per image or so

If interested, please send me a message to sergio.dobejo@gmail.com as I do not visit Flickr regularly.




Or, return to your message list.

Some Lucky Muslims Are Born With A Silver Spoon

some muslims are born poor
die fade out very soon
call them minorities ..but
they are part of our nation
living in ghettos impoverished
communes ,, politicians  use them
as vote banks ..but to their pain
are immune .. once votes have
been garnered bring in the
bulldozers build condominiums
for the rich powerlords  tycoons
the fear of fate impending monsoon

Mama Why Is He Stealing Our Souls ..

snatching it away from our fleshy mold
mama i am feeling breathless very cold
watching all this bemused the wise baby
held comfortably in her mothers folds
her brother she scolds ..oh let him shoot us ..our story to the world out there must
be told ...baby was the only one in
total control her innocence her godliness
untouched by time and destiny behold
caught between here and there on
the threshold ..dreams on the street side
lying unsold,, this world emotionless
is ruled by the rich and the billfold

Media Photographer Only Shoot What Sells

why should they shoot muslim beggars
pray tell ..it is sunny leone poonam pandey rakhi sawant glitz glam you
all know well ..it is left to us street
bloggers to gather the filth smell
of denizens living in putrid hell
no u turns we dont have to satisfy
our clientele ..we shoot sorrow
bring it out in the open from where
it dwells ..we are not part of the media
cartel. against a system that reduces
humanity to beggary we rebel ..
through the camera the poetry
of life .. the passion pathos we retell

When The Morning Dawns

carrying her child in her arms
from her distant suburban home
she sets out to Bandra to beg
the  name of Allah her lucky charm
the day is awfully humid warm
her hungry child as flies swarm
her hidden face her turbulence
her woeful existence offers no balm
her line of fate blurred on her palm
she sits wait helplessly cool and calm
welcome to my world of beggars
veiled denizens of an animal farm

These are Muslim beggars caught in a cosmic swamp ..by time battered stomped

நன்றி

Thank you , people of Madraswadi for your love hospitality for this photographer from Bandra..

Thank you Sundar Shanmugham and Team.

My Marriammen Feast Madraswadi 2014 Is At Flickr

Shooting Pain..

i shoot pain
enduring pain
overcoming pain
as the rod pierces
the human flesh
from the other
cheek it comes
out again like
a arrow crowning
pain..

i shoot pain
as i feel pain
when i cut
my head with
a sword servant
of hussain .
a moment
held captive
to a memory
releasing my
angst from
every chain

yes i shoot pain
walking on embers
of burning coals
i shoot pain

pain the only human
emotion without caste
color creed or race
enjoins me with my
neighbor ..keeps
me sane ..hindu
muslim all feel pain

i shoot pain

Maharaja The Great Rod Piercer Of Mumbai

Maharaja is a veteran a very famous disciple of Goddess Marriammen he helps the in the piercings of the cheeks of the disciples of Marriammen at Juhu during the Marriammen feast of Nehru Nagar .

A very humble god fearing man I treat him like my guru and thanks to all these people I have been fortunate enough to shoot the rituals of their culture and share it with all of you..

Davendar Bhima , Raja , Shanmugham  Ganesh are some of the famous rod piercers of the Marriammen feast in MUmbai.

Maharaja The Great Rod Piercer Of Mumbai

Maharaja is a veteran a very famous disciple of Goddess Marriammen he helps the in the piercings of the cheeks of the disciples of Marriammen at Juhu during the Marriammen feast of Nehru Nagar .

A very humble god fearing man I treat him like my guru and thanks to all these people I have been fortunate enough to shoot the rituals of their culture and share it with all of you..

Davendar Bhima , Raja , Shanmugham  Ganesh are some of the famous rod piercers of the Marriammen feast in MUmbai.

Maharaja The Great Rod Piercer Of Mumbai

Maharaja is a veteran a very famous disciple of Goddess Marriammen he helps the in the piercings of the cheeks of the disciples of Marriammen at Juhu during the Marriammen feast of Nehru Nagar .

A very humble god fearing man I treat him like my guru and thanks to all these people I have been fortunate enough to shoot the rituals of their culture and share it with all of you..

Davendar Bhima , Raja , Shanmugham  Ganesh are some of the famous rod piercers of the Marriammen feast in MUmbai.

Hooked To Faith And Goddess Marriammen

Devotion to Mariamman

Doctrines India has always been a land of villages and in the context of village life the most important and powerful divine presence is the gramadevata, a deity identified with the village. A village may have several gramadevatas, each with its own function. Village deities are more numerous than Indian villages, though some are known throughout a region and one of these is the goddess Mariamman (Also called Mari, Mariamma, Maryamman. In the Puranas she is known as Marika.) who has devotees all over South India.
The village belongs to the goddess. Theologically she was there before the village and in fact she created it. Sometimes she is represented only by a head on the soil, indicating her body is the village and she is rooted in the soil of the village. The villagers live inside or upon the body of the goddess. The goddess protects the village and is the guardian of the village boundaries. Outside the village there is no protection from the goddess. The vill…

This Year I Did Not Shoot The Animal Sacrifice At Nehru Nagar Juhu

I was in the train arriving from Ajmer ,on  May the day of the Marriammen Feast ..

The sacrifice to appease Goddess Marriammen begins at the entrance of her Temple at Juhu Nehru Nagar and is a bloody affair as a a large number of goats are sacrificed by her followers ..

This goes on till afternoon and in the evening the followers devotees assemble at Juhu Beach where their cheeks are pierced with rods and some insert hooks in the back and pull cars trucks etc..or they are hung from pulleys of moving cranes .

In the picture the butcher is Ganesh and assisting him on the right is my friend Davendar Bhima .

I shot the evening piercing rituals as my train reached Bandra Terminus at  4 pm.

The Unique Tamils of Mumbai

Religious Traditions of the Tamils
Prof. A. Veluppillai
1. Introduction.

The Tamils can be defined as people, having Tamil as their mother tongue. Tamil language is a member of the Dravidian/ South Indian family of languages. The four southernmost states of India- tamiz Nadu, kERaLa, karNAdaka, and Andra Pradesh- are predominantly linguistically Dravidian, each state carved out on the basis of predominance of the four major Dravidian languages. The Dravidian languages are mother tongues of about a quarter of the Indian population. Though about 80% of the speakers are found within the borders of these four South Indian states, a number of Dravidian languages have been identified in other parts of South Asia. Among the tribal languages of Central India, almost extending to the borders of Bengal, distinct from the Austro-Asiatic family of languages, many Dravidian languages have been identified. The northern reaches of this family have been located in isolated settlements in Nepal and P…