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Showing posts from July 26, 2014

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 ,…