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Showing posts from July, 2014

Eid Ul Fitr Namaz Bandra Station 2014

This morning at about 7 am armed with my umbrella my camera and barefeet I trudged out to shoot the Eid Ul Fitr Namaz at the Bandra Station..

This time I decided with a wet soggy weather and an umbrella in my hand , my hand is not in the best of shape due to a permanent injury, I would shoot the namaz from ground zero and for the first time I did no go on the Bandra Skywalk..

A lot of photographers were shooting from the top ,I shot from down below and did not wait to shoot the poster kids of Bandra doing the calisthenics of Eid Hugging pictures , neither did I wait for the Namaz to end I placidly dirty feet walked home shooting stuff on the road , the dirty garbage bins , left unattended by the Municipality that has no heart for any communities religious feelings ,,one of the worst managed institution of the city of Mumbai.

The Mumbai Police security and Bandobast was perfectly synchronized with the organizers of the Station Road Sunni Masjid , there was peace calm and respect of re…

God What Was My Fault

was it the
 original sin
that you
 felled me
forever
that i would
never revolt
cosmic fate
thunderbolt
the face of
the earth
my bed of
thorns i
crawled
your name
i called .

my tears of salt

The Beggar Muslim Woman Wont Celebrate Eid

as the namazis pray
invoking allah
she invokes allah too in
humility she pleads
to get more charity
so her hungry children
she can feed
in the hot sun
different strokes
different needs
the same religion
the same creed
mans original sin
was always his
primary greed
its only man
in the name of god
that makes another
man bleed
here i pay
tribute to fatwas
that on the phone
you can divorce
your legal wife
in a second
of a nano speed
whether she hears
or hears not
whether it is cross
connection
curse the soul
of muslim womanhood
born in slavery
to produce children
breast feed
used abused
discarded
on the roads
she begs dirtied
if only only
she had
learnt to
write and read
her soul
she could
 have freed
her fate
overwritten
how could
she succeed
when the end
comes in an
unmarked grave
hurriedly
buried
her husband
takes another woman
the circle of deceit
muslim beggar
womans life complete

 talaq talaq talaq on eid

Dear Photo Journalists of Mumbai Eid Is More Than A Hug

year after year
eid after eid
you shoot
the same thing
a thought
alarming
going round
round the same
cosmic ring
editorial
demands
to old hackneyed
things you cling
 shoot change
shoot beggars
 hugging on eid
 a new hope bring
a hindu muslim
on the same swing
send a message
home to state
engineered riot
ridden right
wings that
peace is
an indian
thing
send a
message
to mr akhilesh
mr azam khan
mr mulayam singh
that playing with
human lives at
the expense of
ministerial
trappings
is not
acceptable
unpardonable
thing.. we
protest
as photographers
as photo bloggers
of the silence
of another king
another singh
happy eid
to the muslims
of muzzafarnagar
where healing
starting a
new beginning
is now the only
most important
main thing

this was written during the silent regime last year but it holds for the new regime too..saharanpur  eid mubarak sorry about the curfew

After The Eid Namaz Ends ..

she stands in a corner
covering her pain in a
hijab eid mubarak from
the beggars of bandra
to the ummah a message
she sends sepia toned
her back all bent her
frail body living in a tent
my poetic praise on
muslim beggars on
the soul of your miya
integrity should not
cause a dent with
malice to none
no evil intent
begging away
eid after eid
ladies and gent
moments of
morbidity
ah how my
life was spent
shooting pain on
a very happy day
my only lament

Why Do I Shoot Beggars On Eid? Coz They Are The Only Ones That Dont Celebrate Eid

In Gaza too they wont be celebrating eid
searching for bodies no winding sheet
under the rubble children buried ..fear
takes its toll as bombs drop imperialistic
hegemony what victory what defeat
the eunuchs watch from the wings
spoils of war is their yield killing fields
on the other end killing Shias beheading
Christians the new caliph accursed
son of yazid ..a satanic force that he leads
tear drops broken prayer beads ..
ethnic cleansing  evil deeds ..this is
not part of Islam its tenets or its creed
in Africa the Boko Haram destroy peace
brotherhood womanhood a nation bleeds


Garib Bhikariyon Ki Eid Nahi Hoti Hai

ma ki patjhad
main beti roti hai
bhuki hai nahi
soti hai .yeh kaisi
eid,kya chanauti hai

Amma Tomorrow Is Eid ..

did you buy me a new dress
some nice sweets to eat
after the namaz my friends
i will go and greet .
replied the hapless mother
son tomorrow is not our eid
it is the rich mans eid we are
beggars we beg as always
on both the muslim eids
your father your sister
i have too feed pay heed
you have to worker harder
this eid..acche din hamare
abhi nahi aye woh sirf tha
dil behlane ka geet ..bas
ek lucky party ki jeet

kal bandra station par subha
se mange ham bhik...eid mubarak
 khuda rakhe ap sab ko theek

you through your prayers
we through your coins
its Allah that we seek

Sare Photo Editor Ko Hardik Subheccha Or Eid Mubarak

photo peshwalog
kuch nayi cheez
shishyon ko
batlao kuch naya
jugad id ke photo
main lao zara bhai
bhikariyon ke photo
toh khhechte jao
inko bhi gale milne
ka mantr sikao
please inhe mat
bhul jao.. eid mubarak
eid mubarak.. thoda
seer khorma khate
jao... jab dubara
idhar aao.. dav pench
ham se free main
le jao.. aao...jaldi
is eid main ao

Happy Eid Mubarak To All

specially
those that
will be begging
on the streets
despite the
muezzins call
pain despair
the only life
saving virtues
on their wall
unlike the rich
fat muslims
blowing away
their fortune
in the malls
the poor needy
will be begging
outside food
stalls ..the
untouchables
of our muslim
social order
right of admission
reserved in prayer halls

Travelling To Ajmer Urus Of Khwajah Garib Nawaz

Despite Indian Railways running extra trains or the Garib Rath the crowds are humongous of the followers of the Holy Saint some book their tickets 3 month in advance , the rich land there by flight car luxury coach.

But for the poor is is tough , they squeeze into any available place even in a reserved compartment , there are fights fisticuffs too, and the thieves pickpocketeers ,work over time .
If you are in an AC coach you might not see the goodness of the good followers of the Holy Saint, they offer their food to others , are polite , and accommodating as compared to the ruffians chillum smokers from some seedy parts of Mumbai.. robbing vendors playing blaring music , teasing girls and occupying the toilets for their nefarious activities all in the name of Khwajah Garib Nawaz , breaking rail property , not allowing valid passengers to board and all these years since 2005 I have never seen a Railway cop they are too shit scared of these ruffians I saw once they tried to bully a ma…

Kamini Chal Uth Kam Par Ja - Beggar Mother To Her Child

din bhar soti hai
teri subha nahi
hoti hai. khati hai
angdati hai teri
ma subha se
sham thaki mari
 bhik mangne jati
 hai kambhakt tu
kyon mujhe satati
hai..paisewalon
ke bigde bacchon
ki trah itrati hai

kamini chal uth kam
par ja itne main
 ajmer wali train
dadar station
par a jati hai...

kahani khatm ho jati hai

Slums Are Created By A Few Politicians As Vote Banks

Once the slums start getting patronized by the politician and his cronies than a process starts to legalize them or allow them to created another floor , money changes hands and most of the  rail tracks have these shanties cheek and jowl, the railways did not care a shit , and that land has become scare available at premium ,,,schemes are passed to benefit the slum dwellers instead the builder politician nexus reaps rich rewards everyone from bottom to top knows it ..wherever you go you see slums. making Mumbai green means greenbacks to the builders their patron saints the politician.

You wont find a politician living in the slums , though they once did live in the slums and they rose now they have mansions shops schools hospitals printing press  you name it they have it and thy even put poor old Mr Anna Hazare to sleep with a golden handshake ..

I am not into politics nor am I into any party , which party does one join , all our same they all have the same end .. make money ,,and th…

God Why Did You Send Me To India

before you planned to
install me in an Indian womb
they were planning to kill
me at birth or hang me from
a tree those nincompoops
from the cradle to the tomb
once buried for a forensic
explanation they exhume
either way dead or alive
in India womanhood is
doomed..before it blooms


dedicated to a bombaywallah

I Am Happy 73,297 People Saw My Forgotten World Yesterday

I am not showcasing just my photography at Flickr nor am I seeking a pat on my back, I am an ordinary point and shoot photographer though I shoot with an affordable DSLR , because I used to be broke I used the Nikon D80 for many years the same lenses ,but earlier when I was an analogue photographer it was always about hoodwinking my wife and buying lenses macro telly and wide , I loved the 20 mm I always wanted to buy a super fish eye could not afford it.

So these are all Nikon shots , and strangely I shot pictures as a storyboard , till I returned back from my Ajmer trip and than began offloading my travelogue my blogs at Flickr , never really saw them the way I am doing now this is my Ajmer 2010 lot , I am tweaking a few pictures via Aviary editing tool placing it back on the shelf as text or poetry and I am learning to understand my own pictures and learning from your own pictures is a very big lesson too and thereby teaching others in the process of revisiting old times old memor…

I Am A Street Photographer And Pictures Seek Me Out

i say this in sheer humility
they see me they call me out
in a language that only i understand
they shout photographer from misery
of our surroundings take us out
over the wide web at Flickr Twitter
Facebook Tumblr Blogspot use
your magical finger let us linger
word of mouth through you we
are seen no doubt by those in
somnambulist like stupor our
netas who have neglected us
in and out .. we are merely used
as vote banks for us they scout
but this year our curses on
the soul of their corrupt politics
they were totally wiped out
but we are still waiting for good
days the new one had promised
or they too will disappear in the
next rout ..over and out .
paid media unpaid media does
not shoot our pictures unless
our hutments get burnt out
or if our daughter is raped
or if someone throws acid
on one of us ..to meet us
all rules they flout ,,

so now we trust bloggers who shoot our dreams
turn them round about ...no press card no upturned
snout ..


I Apologize If I Hurt Your Sense Sensibilities Shooting Beggars

there is a lot to shoot in this world
my beggars soul as a poet refused
no flowers no sunsets no chubby
kids i opted for beggars without
legs bodies bruised ,i am shocked at
my moderation guilty and accused
i shot poor little girls as pregnant
mothers by their own parents
abused forced to beg pain
sorrow fused what else was
there to be enthused ..i shoot
the ways of this hypocritical world
treating beggars badly but shedding
crocodile tears for gaza bemused
we too were slaves of the British vampire
but we broke our chains because of
the sacrifice of our freedom fighters
now our corrupt leaders are trying
to comfortably fit their shoes ...
a political system of counting votes
giving the common man the end
of the noose ..silence the mantra
of all governance ..as political ruse

The Most Controversial Garment - The Hijab

in some countries
it is forcibly enforced
in some countries
it is banned as a
religious symbol
without debate
or dialogue
some who dont
wear it say burn it
in their blogs.
the hijab is
a garment of
modesty of
your choice
is how the
rationals
endorse

instead of stopping muslims killing muslims , instead of up lifting womens rights in muslim society it is the hijab that is more important as vital  issues shift course ..i also heard of women who refused to wear it were persecuted divorced


I Did Not Want People Pissing On My Facebook Wall

so i disabled it once and for all
the revolting smell the assault
on my conscience my nostrils
i sprayed aerosol got tired
of peoples their natures call
on my brick less priceless wall
medium height not very tall
racists bigots shia haters no
dearth of footfalls ..friends told
me re install i paid no heed to
their call no woman no wall
who will come first piddle
without heed to protocol
they had the balls and gall
some unzipped when they
suffered total recall or some
suffering from withdrawl
people just loved pissing
on my photo pasting wall
some came dripping all
over like seminal nightfall
some thought it was a public
urinal in a seedy whore
picking up mall ..i was really
shocked appalled ..no more
will i allow people on my
favorite wall.. let them beg
plead crawl .. fuck you want
to piddle go to a corner of
some chawl....my wall
forever fire walled ..


The Wise Lamb And The Foolish Man

he knew he would be slaughtered soon
before they spotted the luminous moon
than he looked yonder where man lay
dreaming of countless boons wrapped
in his selfish thoughts like a cocoon
to the sorrow of the imminent slaughter
of the lamb he was immune ..man only
knows to cause harm to other men
destroy the soul of womanhood man
an imprint of death destruction on
the sand dunes lyrical remorse
out of tune , man and his misfortune ..

RIP Ashirwad

his trophies
his bags
full of
memories
thrown
outdoors
the new
owner wants
to change
the decor
change
the mosaic tiles
on the floor
a new outhouse
a new tenor
lyrical change
a new score
a new color
a bell on
the door
a new
man friday
not bala
anymore
heartless
bollywood
once dead
you are
forgotten
you are
remembered
no more
sahabs
riyasat
his kingdom
his fiefdom
will have
the new
owner
signor
watching
the carter
road seashore
no its too precious
a landmark once
a reminder of
glamour galore
the chirping birds
the cricket the bats
mourning the loss
without remorse
rancor an era
ends end of
 lease tenure .
we live we die
leaving wilting
memories
that others
endure
money rules
over heart
over feelings
sadness has
no remedy
no  cure

for me my grand daughters
tears on the death of a house
the only lasting reminder of my
guide teacher mentor ,,

RIP Ashirwad you will soon be forgotten a wasted metaphor

Today I Confess The Greatest School Of Photography Is Flickr

So many different teachers masters artists , under one roof , and it is here you learn observing their art , all photo creation is art replicating art.

If you are a student or even a beginner or a full fledged photographer and if you have a Flickr account , and if you are following some photographers of your choice your pictorial leanings than you are attaining tutorials free of cost..learn to appreciate pictures but first of all also learn to comment constructively without damaging the photographers humility it was easy for you to see his picture but you are not aware of the efforts that went into bringing that picture to life.Try not be over smart be decent be polite be courteous your comment reflects your parentage your nationality and the integrity of your character .

If you want to find fault or you want to add your two bits send him a Flickr mail, Give respect be respected .
He has vision he took the vision , you see a picture with no vision. And I too have been overtly critici…

Muslim Society Weeps Crocodile Tears For Gaza .. But Has Done Nothing For Its Beggars And Poor People

Good Created The Poor By Mistake

the soul was willing
gnawing hunger
keeps mother
her children awake
she must get food
she numbs her
stomach she
feels relives her
children s ache
in the winding
bylanes of ajmer
i was attacked by
her children s
hungry stares
so much was
at stake ..
come what may
hope she will
not forsake

the cycle of living from one day to the next she cant break
a thirst for their salvation a drop of water wont slake

Ajmer Sharif Calls Me One A Year

holding my beggars
bowl of blood sweat
tears humbly bowed
head i come here to
 a holy saint of saints
of the poor the beggars
his loving children
he holds them dear
their love for him
pristine sincere
he is their host of
host awesome
austere ..call
him from the
depths of your
heart verily
he appears
to your barren
life he adds
cheers ..

on his high gates embedded
as eternal hope salvation
words very clear...hanging
like a chandelier


Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain
Sardad na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed,
Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain

what you see is what you hear ,,


.

Smoke And Be Merry ..

The chillum , smoking hash is an integral part of the Bawa culture .. be it the Malangs or the Rifais .. even among the Naga Sadhus and the Aghoris the chillum is the soul that brings you into their transcendental territory.
I have smoked in my time 14 goli chillum not anymore .its been almost 30 years since I gave up the chillum.

So the bawas get upset when I refuse the chillum when they offer it to me ..
and I have no issue it is their chillum and their lungs.

And here I must make an honrary mention my German friend Dorothea known as Miriam in the Malang circle has got timely treatment for the Bawas got them  checked up at clinis most of them were in last stages of TB tuberculosis ,,

The Malangs call her their Florence Nightingale , she has saved many lives at Ajmer Sharif all with her own money ,,and through charity .

Smokinh hash ganja , smoking the chandul too among the hardcore bawas is common ,my Rifai Sai Handi Bawa died because of all this heavy smoking...I have seen a lot o…

I Shoot The Bhaiyyas Blithe Spirit

He sells coriander at the Bandra Bazar road market he sits near the statue of Jesus Christ the favored Saint of All The Poor Vegetable sellers at the Bazar .
After he finishes for the day he comes to this place at De Monte street , has his frugal lunch and falls asleep near the shut doors of a shop.

He does not talk , I know from his body language that he is unhappy , his wretched defeated demeanor ..all speak out of his struggle to survive ..and he is the iconic migrant beleaguered sometimes bought down by political misadventure , he is a North India Bhaiyya , he left the green fields Of Uttar Pradesh to weave his dreams in Mumbai.
I have never talked to but I buy coriander from hism for my Java sparrows , they eat  wet sprouts too.

There are now a very few Bhaiyyas left in the bazar you could count them on your fingers , most of them switched trades , some of them passed away..

They are reconcilable , dont argue , live their lives without getting in anyone's way..and mind you B…

An Ode To My Wife ,,,

My wife gets on my goat she says why do you shoot the same shit every time ,demystify delusions optically warped as rhyme ,, she considers my fruitless photography that does not bring in money my deadliest crime .....

Our Faith Has Been Politicized Too What A Shame

I Thought it was for Gaza or the Shias And Christians of Mosul I hung my head in shame for the follies of man as a Human Being I take blame we were born from an embryo of compassion but our anger we cannot tame .. we have two legs we are lame ..yes we are muslims we are shias ..our only vocal claim.. we are accidental players in a cosmic game

dedicated to a healer hussain guevara of hyderabad ,,

I Try To Teach Myself To Shoot By Shooting The Same Thing Over And Over Again

i would be dead if i go to worli seaface
shooting women transparent wet bodies
dancing in the rains sarcastically turning
on guys with soaked hardons only sex
revolving round their brains ,,seismic seminal
serendipity driving languishing libidos insane
i shoot beggars beggar kids androgynous
painted men posturing as women my lens
on them i train,, fuck call me brainless insane
i shoot the same thing the same repeating
moments that were once held in chains i
listen to the whining of my wife why do
you shoot the same morbidity she complains

believe me whatever my claim to knowledge it was
through my street photography i gained .. my moksh
my malangs nirvana i solemnly attained .. a beggar also
a poet of sorts juggling words as i shoot eternal pain

Alvida Jumma Akhri Jumma Bandra Station ..2014

I have uploaded about 99 photos of the Akhri Jumma Alvida Jumma , the last Friday of Ramzan ,which is a harbinger of  Peace and Ramzan Eid known as Eid Ul Fitr .
The fasts will get over , and sad to say that Ramzan a month of piety , patience , ibadat will soon be forgotten the  bars will be mostly filled with guys in white pathanis , surma in the eye and the overpowering fragrance of attar..and this is reality of our modern times ..I shall leave it at that.

People generally hate when you talk the truth or tell the truth but as a sixty plus reformed alcoholic I have lived seen it all.. I hope others hooked to the bottle drugs give it up too..

I have just come back from Kurla a story I shall narrate with pictures of my latest street adventure and exposing a scam ..outside the Kurla Police Chowky and near the No 9 overhead bridge that connects the west to the east once I finish all this upload description and mind you I type with one secular magical finger the only part of my anatomy ,…

Akhri Juma ..Friday Namaz At Bandra Station 2014

I picked up my Canon 7 D today after a very long gap, I hardly use it and I had some work in the Bandra Slaughter house slums I cut though the winding lanes of this huge sprawling slum that stretches towards the Shastri Nagar slums which are close to the Bandra Station and the Bandra Station Sunni mosque ,as the mosque gets totally packed with the namazis , the rest of the Jamat  pray on the road outside the station,, today was last Friday of Ramzan Or Akhri Juma I have never shot this before . this was the first time.

I shot down below and than shot the remaining segment from the Bandra Skywalk. I was the only one shooting this auspicious important day the last Friday before the feast of Eid ..

It was a very hot humid day and not at all congenial , all these pictures are part of my Ramzan series at Flickr shot from 2007 till 2014.

This year I shot less no foodie lanes ...the poor Muslims have hardly any money to buy good food and by the standard of their living literally hand to mou…

I Shoot Muslim Beggars .. A Friend Asked Do Beggars Have Religion

probably  a thought
that never came to
my dumb poets mind
beggars believe in
god the creator
who created beggars
part of a cosmic grind
god believed beggars
would like his apostles
make others believe in
him through charity instill
compassion hope love
that is missing in mankind
this I think the missing link
of his thought divine Allah
ke name pe do a beggar
pleading to a Muslim with
this byline .Ishwar Bhale Kare
was the beggar requesting
the Brahmin with his lines

Beggars have no religion ..impoverished
begging from man treating him a god ..as they grovel whine

to a friend a bird lover online ,,

The Happiest Man In India .. Is The Man Who Has Nothing To Lose

no house
 no wife
no children
no boss
no mistress
he is a static
pause only
borrowed
dress no party
does he belong to
no not BJP not Shiv
Sena not the NCP
nor the  Congress
he has a moving address
he lost his dreams so
he has nothing to impress
no diabetes no bloodpressure
he wont die of stress ,,
who is the ruling party who
is our new PM...he knows
nothing of our political mess
he eats dry chapatis begs for
food from roadside outlets
he defecates urinates at
street corners like your
darling pets ,,he does not
have to clear his pooh..he
shits out all his regrets
he does not pay taxes no
failed loans or debts ,,
on cricket matches he
has no money to bet
when it rains heavily
his clothes his tattered
soul gets wet like a
zombie he wont click
Like on  your fucked
 facebook posts
no re tweets of alia
jokes bollywoods
only intelligent  actress
fuck he has no lap top
no i pad no desktop
he has no fucked
internet ,.,

to the stray dogs his
companions he feeds
what he gets ..

the homeless reb…

Once A Year I Shoot Urban Landscape ..

i shoot beggars
all size all shape
deformed
disfigured
distorted
contorted
assorted
from their
doomed
destiny
no escape
bound to
diseased
mortality
open wounds
maggot infested
people watch
awed agape
timeless tragedy
society shut mouth
adhesive tape

they only talk about
chapatis random rape

Traveling To Ajmer By Train Is The Story Of My Dreams

From the day I first traveled to Ajmer  and the numerous trips almost every year till this year , the difficulties , the hardships , and the beauty of this rustic travel barefeet as a beggar to the kingdom of Khwajah Garib Nawaz,,

The people I met the hijras who begged recognized me , touched my feet took my blessings , some paid me money to place at the Shrine of the Holy Saint, some fed me and this is all because of one word ,,, Yeh Toh Khwajah Ka Karam Hai..

Nisbet Mili Hai Jab Se Tere Nam Ki Izzat Badi Hai Is Ghulam Ki..

And I left everything behind shooting documenting an Ajmer not seen in travel brochures .. I shot the unseen Ajmer , I shot all this thanks to Khwajah Garib Nawaz and My Host Mentor Peersab Fakhru Miya Hujra no 6 I lived in his private quarters  every year I visited Ajmer Sharif and his hospitality is what Chishtiya order is all about an extension of Hussainiyat.. Hope and Humanity ,

And it was Khwajah Garib Nawaz the greatest follower of the path Of Imam Hussain…

She Hid Her Child's Face From The Cursed Eye Of Camera

Street photographers who incorrigibly shoot beggars , rob peoples soul,,and most beggars genuine or professionals believe so despite the fact we give them money , once a beggar gave me 10 bucks for shooting him and had the cheek to tell me ..to give him a glossy copy as he did not like mat.

The hijras firmly believe photographers are the greatest evil the camera a witchcraft tool that robs soul and hides them in  old booze bottles . Now dont laugh when I am serious , I have  had innumerable fights with the hijras hiding my gonads the way footballers do when Messi takes a free kick.

Bawas Rifais too hate photographers , even though I studiously dress like them it beats me . so now I make my grand daughter shoot them , they ridicule her and she shoots them better than me.

I shot beggars their tales must be told .and as nobody shoots them irrespective of them being pricey I shoot them candidly and stealthily .

I blog with my own pictures I would lose my authenticity if I needed another …

Nothing Much Has Changed In Ajmer Since I Last Shot This Picture

I shot this in 2011.. but it could be 2012 2013 and even 2014 .

Nothing changes we as Indians hate change , it disturbs the quaint poetry of our distorted souls .

As a street photographer I shoot the underbelly of unforgotten unforgiving pain..it is cosmically laid out for me to shoot and God also knows I dont just shoot with my eye but with my camera too.

And I am drawn to Ajmer I have been broke but I made it to Ajmer once I sold my 80-200 2.8 lens to make this trip sounds ludicrously stupid ..so life works in strange when you are doomed to call yourself a beggar poet.

Street photography is the mother of picture making , the shot the timing the opportune alignment of a moment with the disembodied spirit.

And you should not what to shoot and what not to shoot I use my inner reflexes I dont even know why I shoot what I did not need to shoot but like this picture it comes back from the past craving to be seen and be read poetically . provided you read prose as poetry with your eyes cl…

Our Stray Dogs Are Much Happier Than The Stray Kids Of Ajmer

for the stray dogs everyone cares
 urchins beggar kids abuse and swear
kick them beat them caught in a snare
dirty faces snotty noses disheveled hair
education does not calm the fire in the belly
tattered clothes they wear..

welcome to the city of Garib Nawaz .. heartless Ajmer
the apathetic politicians have no time to spare ..to
make this city of peace hope love ,,beautiful
heal and repair .drug addicts move about openly
of pickpocketeers robbers thieves beware ,,

What Do You Get By Shooting Beggars He Said ?

there are so many beautiful things
to be shot  why do you shoot beggars
he was very upset use your camera to
capture the beauty of the sunset
chirping birds feeding their babies
in the nest .shoot that little chubby
boy dancing in the rain all wet
shoot happy things shoot joy bliss
roses magnolias shot cats dogs
other pets but stop shooting
disfigured leprous faces ..posting
their pictures on the net you give
a bad name to our beautiful country
a thought i detest he said
sanctimonious his face all red.
.i duly apologized to him forcing
 him to eat his words like burnt
 chappatis while he was fasting did
 not enter my head .. it was my
camera my optical illusions ..i used
as imagery instead of text..
the situation was very complex
than he said why did i not shoot
the prettier sex ..from fashion
magazines editorials i could get
a fat cheque ...i hurriedly moved
away from him a pain in the ass
a pain in the neck..,a beggar poet
chaos confusion total wreck..
in my camera eye he saw a
br…

I Cried For I Had No Gloves Till I Found A Boy Who Had No Hands

The Boy Without Hands

Among all the beggars in Ajmer Sharif , that I shoot prolifically , this boy without hands eludes me , I search for him , but this year I did not find him..and strangely I think he searches for me too , its a cosmic bond based on the austerity of silence.

I have never talked to him ,and I when I did shoot him it is rapidly as I am barefeet and my feet burn , and once I shot him when I was leaving Ajmer .

Who is he .? What is his name I dont know ? Will somebody the very rich influential that come to Ajmer spend lacs of rupees buy him prosthetic arms I dont know.

Man is a hardened animal..his only interest is himself.. in Mumbai the other person who appeals to my inner angst is Appu , he is a stump of a torso without hands without legs.

Shooting beggars is not the easiest of enterprise every shot kills a part of you inside , it kills me ..I much change I try not to talk to beggars it would break the rhythmic rhapsody of a divine moment , call it my callousness but I am trying to now t…

The Boy Without Hands .

kate hue hathon se mangte hain hum
kate hue hathon se mangta hai tu
beech sadak par baithkar doosron
ko rasta dikhata hai tu zindagi ki
guftugu..zalim yeh kaisi bagawat
ki bu. ruhbaru..


i shot him
a part of
me died
it was not him
but
god sitting
begging
on the roadside
just humility
no grandeur
no pride
a road narrow
a bit wide
i was
tongue tied
to shoot him
or not to shoot him
i could not decide
i feel pain
i was tear eyed
if this is life
it will be my
one time ride
my mouth gagged
my own hands tied
something
was burning
my entrails
inside
 cacophonous
chaos
outside
i looked up
at heavens
said
Allah
provides
fate
the master
my life divides
silence
was an
 echo
muted
melancholy
 replied
you were
born to reveal
what this
 world hides

Garib Nagar Khuda Hafiz Goodbye

her hopes
her dreams
beneath
the rubble lie
time and again
she asks god why
she gets no reply
she is hurt but she
trusts god her loved
ones did not die
memories all
washed away
in a gutter nearby
no roof over head
no belongings
only the clothes
on her body
the silhouette of
the hijab
her armor
her protection
her standby
her children
see the debris
bad luck  bhai
once self
 dependent
now beggars
broken wings
that lie
 soiled
sullied
as they dry
garib nagar
khuda hafiz
goodbye
trears
on the soul
of a beloved city
mumbai

god forbid
if this happened
in a rich mans tower
there would be
immediate help
immediate response
a greater outcry
such is the scales
of justice lopsided
for the poor the rich guy

Bidding Farewell To Lord Ganesha At Juhu Beach

While everyone among the photographer biradri go to Girgaum Chowpatty on the 7 th Day Immersion , or Visarjan of Lord Ganesha .. I normally made my way to Juhu Beach as it close by  and there are no cops hassling you not to go in the waters and most of the beach lifeguards know me also the portrait photographers at the beach.

And for a street photographer Juhu beach is ideal to get close up shots the Visarjan ambiance the artis and even the Hijras from nearby suburbs come here on this very auspicious day for the Hindus.

There is a plethora of passion , emotions and a festivity mood to be shot , and another day I come here is on Gauri Visarjan.. the 5 th day,,and I love shooting her in her finery and Gauri differs in look with every section of Hindu society , the Kolis dress her like a Koli , the South Indians Madrasis dress her in their style and she is very elegant stoic and touches everyone..I gave up booze several years back on a Gauri Visarjan day so this immersion means  lot to …

Nerjis Asif Shakir And Lucky The Labrador

Nerjis is scared of goats , and wary of dogs , though when she was very young Lucky was her best friend as she grew older , she became more ambivalent to his existence .. she watches him from far and will call him out but thats it.

But Lucky has bee part of their growth..both Marziya and Nerjis.

And I still think animals need love and telepathically select and seek out friends mostly children..

Marziya Shakir And Lucky The Labrador

Lucky and Marziya have literally grown up together , he was a pup belonging to Omkar Shelar son of Advocate Ashish Shelar. Marziya bossed over him from a very early age , and amazingly Lucky was so well behaved that he never jumped or barked , when Marziya came back from holidays he would eagerly wait for her and Marziya gave him her share of biscuits . As Marziya grew he watched her from far , and these are photos I documented of their friendship..and Lucky is still around . six years from the first time I shot him with Marziya . So animals have a very special bonding with kids ,,and in another part of a world away thousands of miles away from Marziya and Lucky in Ann Arbor was Jeff Lamb eminent photographer and his dog Sonny ,, who would favorite Marziyas and Luckys pictures ,and this was another form of Love , a mystical love today Jeff is no more alive but his love for my grand daughter has given a tremendous ethereal strength I have tears in my eyes as I wrrite these words and r…

The Pain Pathos Of The Marathi Manoos

the situation
confusingly
jowl by cheek
havoc wreak
electoral prospects
seem very bleak
this time he wont
give the other swollen
cheek..
farmer suicides
constant infighting
chaotic coalition
the marathi manoos
to whom does he speak
failing law and order
rampant crimes
what does he seek
the guilty rule the
roost bad times
for the meek
as prices peak
the builder politician
nexus harvest reaps
maharashtra has lost
its soul mumbai has
lost its charm mystique
which wave this time
on a losing streak
ab ki bar kis ki sarkar
dreams choked on a
river creek..ask the
skeptic he says
live be merry
mumbai nagri main
sab kuch theek
the only city of india
that gives respect
to muslim hindu
christian dalit sikh
jain parsi buddhist
mutual coexistence
 harmonious unique ..

After Adding Me On Facebook ,, There Are Those Bigots Who Love To Kick My Ass

This is an old post written in 2012 , and I keep deactivating my Facebook account from time to time to get a free lease on life ,,but I miss some very good friends so I return like a rolling stone .

The only words that have changed in my blog below , i have locked up my hijra documentary from the voyeuristic nature of man..I shoot less pictures  I tweak my old pictures via Aviary ,, but my poets angst is as restless as it wa when life began.. I blog to kill pain ..I dont shoot Moharam in Mumbai I stay away from all Shia congregations I shoot Moharam in cities where love of Imam Hussain is greater than  love for bigotry , I shoot a lot of Hindu rituals but even this I have cut down , I shot the Maha Kumbh 2013 .

My Old Blog


Of late I have been deleting all requests from my community , simply because we may belong to the same community , but I have not come to Facebook to make this as my religious platform, I do post my faith but I dont forcefully push it up peoples throat..I may not b…

Can You Imagine A World Without Photographers

grotesque
scary awkward
a picture was
born much
before the
birth of the
word ,,
a picture
gave way
to feelings
hope much
before the
word was
heard .
creating joy
bliss harmony
dead emotions
it bought to
life a new path
to your restless
angst a new
spirit it stirred