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Showing posts from January, 2015

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. Marcus Tullius Cicero

I have a great fascination for cemeteries and graves since we were children.. I remember vividly I used to go with my friends and read the poems wordings on the graves on an English cemetery at the Army Area of Colaba early 60s .. i think that cemetery does not exist , it was an English Army graveyard ..

But than Indians hardly care for their own dead forget the colonial past , we were slaves they were our masters and I am surprised that the St Mary Cemetery at British Residency exists even after the Siege of 1857 ..

Uttar Pradesh hardly cares for heritage sites , the graves are  scarred , totally neglected grass growing all over , but it is a much touted tourist site so in 2014 my last visit I was surprised to see some upkeep going on..

But this part of the cemetery is considered haunting by everyone ans hence the lovers that come here get much need privacy with condoms littered all around .. a quick fast fuck and tears on the soul of the British Residency.

I shot pictures this time…

The Last Strand Of The British Empire in Lucknow

he is standing there forgotten by those who left him...on native soil.. oh how his blood boils
the thought away from home away from snow he recoils
standing at the british residency without pay leave gratuity
he toils ,,catches the flu dengue his white alabaster body
riddled with boils ,,every night he watches whores getting
fucked under the moonlight as he pukes smelling their body oils ..his dreams spoiled

to my dear friend meld
who inspired this poem ..
from the soul of turmoil

We Shoot Memories Etched In Stone

the siege of 1857
british residency
beneath Indian soil
lie writhing english
blood sweat tears
bones by the great
empire they were
disowned left
alone ,,no one
to call their own
on their forgotten
semen stained
graves trees have
grown dreams
tattered torn
memories
outworn

none will mourn
brave british soldiers
their wives children
watch from afar
the changing world
beyond the stone


He Is Dreaming

that one day
he will be free
from the reality
of pain..heavy
legs manacled
a common man
bound to chains
all his life he lived
on the roads he
made no gains
even in his dreams
he is totally drained
sitting on the edge
of life to god above
he complains his
sorrows his trials
tribulations that have
made him insane
death watches him
from afar as he feigns
decides he will come
for him another time
nodding his brain ,
he has to rush to
another spot where
a man is writhing in
agony a stroke migraine


this man is sleeping outside a municipal hospital in bandra they have no bed for him he is a diabetic and his condition was serious when i shot him.

YE LUCKNOW KI SAR ZAMEEN-- CHAUDVIN KA CHAND

Ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye rang-roop kaa chaman
ye husn-o-ishq kaa watan
yahi to wo muqaam hai
jahaan Awadh ki shaam hai
jawaan-jawaan haseen-haseen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
shabaab-o-sher kaa ye ghar
ye ahl-e-ilm kaa nagar
hai manzilon ki god mein
yahaan har ek rah-guzar
ye shahar laaladaar hai
yahaan dilon mein pyaar hai
jidhar nazar uthaaiye
bahaar hi bahaar hai
kali-kali hai naazneen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
yahaan ki sab rawaayaten
adab ki shaahkaar hain
ameer ahl-e-dil yahaan
ghareeb jaan-nisaar hain
har ek shaakh par yahaan
hain bulbulon ke chahchahen
gali-gali mein zindagi
kadam-kadam pe kahkahen
har ik nazaaraa hai dilnasheen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen
ye Lucknow ki sarzameen

Lyrics-Shakeel Badayuni,

Before You Shoot A Picture You Should Be Able To See It In Your Minds Camera Eye

This was shot in 2005 in Lucknow at the Gomti Ghats , and I liked this place mainly because of the Dhobis that dyed the chicken cotton clothes , and put it up to dry on rows of clotheslines ,, lovely Indian vibrant colors ..and the morning ablutions at the Ghats , the Sadhus who looked at me curiously , my cosmic rings my malang attire though I looked like a Malang I became one in 2011.

I met Aghoris at the ghats who requested me not to shoot them but sit with them chat and I could not eat what they offered me refusing the meat politely .

Lucknow has great memories mostly pictorial..and I shot alone , I hardly mixed with people ..and with my dread head , my beads I looked like an ascetic on a journey.

I like three cities for street photography Lucknow Hyderabad and Delhi.. and because of my work commitments in Mumbai I hardly get to see what others shoot , and now that I have flowerhorns at home and birds I hesitate to go out of Mumbai. I lost all my black ghosts over 75 when I went …

I try not to shoot pretty pictures but this was a long time back..

Sometime back I wrote a very long blogpost on this pictures BW version and I dont have back up on my laptop and it got accidentally deleted , I have never written such a long post  and I have a lousy memory so here I am posting the colored version and making an attempt to recover the lost blog from my mind ,

I shot  this in Lucknow 2005 , and it was almost 10 years back.. this year due to lack of time I did not visit the Gomti Ghats were this picture was shot , I had no time I came to shoot Chehlum 2014 and was here for two days , I cut my head with two daggers this time  in both my hands , and my kamzani pictures were shot by my relative Guddu ,, however on instructions from my mother in law he took away one of the daggers but I cut my head with the single dagger again twice , than before I could proceed my mother in law took away this dagger too.

I walked from Nakhas barefeet till Talkatoa a long distance in my wet clothes and a bandage on my head thanks to the first aid guys on th…

Street Photography ....Once You Start Your Are Hooked

He Has Been In Trauma And Shock Since #FacebookDown

his world was  facebook
morning afternoon evening night
he liked to poke people around ,
he shared his naughty pictures
with other facebook clowns
he was part of so many groups
he knew facebook inside out
2500 friends healthy and stout
a new update on his facebook
wall every dude wanted to
check out ,,a new note a
new print out but one day
when facebook shutout
he screamed he yelled
he banged his head
against the wall he was
locked out , he ended
up with viral fever
running temperature
fits shivering ,,totally
washed out ,,he has
covered his face
since that day
he sleeps out
a rare disease
told the doctor
he is totally
burnt out

a new disease
this fucked
#facebookdown


I Was Born In Lucknow By Accident ,,Luckily The Rest of My 60 Years In Mumbai I Spent

Old Lucknow ,, Where Photographs Become Lasting Memories

The stretch from Bajaza Nakhas to Chowk circle , the Mandi and the bylanes of Old Lucknow , just wander and shoot  this year I did just that walked in the tiny lanes and walked from Yahya Ganj to Agha Mir Ki Deodi than Wazir ganj and right up to Gola Ganj.

I shot Hazratganj for the first time thanks to my Flickr friend Anandamoy but I still find Old Lucknow exhilarating and memorable..

Even the road that leads you to Kazmain or Hazrat Abbas Dargah its still the same like this picture of the kids shot in 2005 ..and Lucknow is an enigma , a newer part growing rapidly and the older part dying slowly with the weigh of its decadence .

Lucknow the part where my mother lived Pata Nala is still the same one day when Progress Development  reach this end it might change ,,

The present satraps have time only for Saifai.. and what the Nawabs built these guys will never build even in a million life times I humbly think.

Lucknow toilets are for men only open and totally deplorable and stray dogs r…

Street Portraiture ,,, In Divine Light

awphoto54 said:
The best portraits are the street portraits. There are no lights, no backdrops, no assistance. These are shots without an appointment. There are presidents, kings and queens posed in pompous poses. They or their inner circle must approve their portraits. Here is a man with a smile. He is poor but he is kind.

a poor man
a man you
never knew
is he a muslim
or a hindu
does it matter
I ask you
the man who
likes him could
be a Jew ..
a picture
becomes a
humbling
thought
a new hope
imbues
to shoot
insects
flowers
sunsets
i cosmically
refuse

a street photographer is hardly in the news
if he posts the truth on flickr the bigots
report abuse ..to be or not to be human
it is up to you to choose ...a comment
strengthens the imagery ..asymmetrically
fused ..a simple picture will never ever confuse

Our Beggars Would Be In Great Demand In Saudi Arabia During The Haj .

export our beggars
earn millions in foreign
exchange our beggars
dont misjudge ..we make
 in india more beggars
than any country in the
world figures cant be
fudged ,,other countries
that have beggars too
across our borders we
definitely hold no grudge
come what may an iron
nation from our convictions
we wont budge ,,,black money
hidden in foreign countries
laughs at our motor mouth
leaders ,, say sorry we wont
come ..the common man
the blundering fool ,,,
his motto Karz or Farz

yeh kaisa jeena ..jeena bhi aisa marz

The Quintessential Muslim Man ..

humble simple
god-fearing man
he is an indian
but he is called
a muslim man
looked at warily
treated as an
outsider this
was not part
of the nations
cosmic plan
he has been
cheated by
the clergy
cheated by
all political
parties
he stood by
his convictions
he made india
his home to
the other side
of the border
her never ran
he is part of
the mainstream
but you think
differently
his faults
his shortcomings
you inquisitively
scan..every
action of his
good bad ugly
you pan .yes you
discriminate
you racially
 abuse him
calling him
names
an ode to
a muslim man
never appeased
or he would not
be living in ghettos
slums begging
on the streets
the first suspect
of every policeman
victim of religiously
engineered riots
maliciously maligned
by every bigoted man

Its Better To Have Loved And Lost Than Not Have Loved At All

deathly silence on my facebook wall
i deactivated the story of my life once
and for all .. how i met her was it a mere
poke or a friends request or was it a post
she liked or was it the world cup .. we won
they lost a memory i recall deleted doomed
the catch phrase of my inhibitions my cosmic
failure looming large and tall ..i moved away
locking myself out ..just once she could have
called ..a loser is a loser ..i guess it was my fault

The Sentinel

outside
the house
of her memories
he dwells ,,a long
time has elapsed
all is not well
she has gone
back into her
shell from the
pedestal of her
eyes he fell
that he was
married he
did not tell
he was under
her magic spell
her beauty
her form
her figure
in a nutshell
she was the
heroine of
his first
unfinished
lifes novel
where is she
now he wonders
her fragrance
her smell
her lisp
his silence
when she
yelled
than one
day the
tree of dreams
suddenly fell
leaving him
 in the wilderness
of his personal hell

from the cosmic ring of
her command he was
unduly expelled .

I Asked This Muslim Man Why He Was Begging ,, He Answered Bura Waqt Aur Badkismati

simply translated
bad times bad luck
standing at bandra
bazar road my
curious question
he did not duck
he said once he
had a job he worked
than came a wind
blew away everything
he was stuck throw
away into the muck
did i solve his problems
by giving him a few bucks

how many times must he
prove he is an indian not
just a muslim beggar
polarized by forces
beyond his control
yes life sucks ,,

I Waited A Long Time Here For Her

holding my heart
on my sleeve
I decided till she
did not come I
would not leave
her long absence
made me grieve
every word of her
now in retrospect
I believed ..her
lilting laughter
her smiling face
was she peeved
a love nothing
achieved deleted
doomed memories
a void  i perceived
from that last
scented letter
I  received I think
I was cheated I
was deceived
she stole my
reason to live
this beautiful
thief comely eve
lost illusions
make believe

i am still standing
nothing left to retrieve

Jinhe Lucknow Pe Naz Hai Woh Kahan Hai

Zara Saifai  ke rehbaron ko bulao, Ye kuche,ye galiyan,ye manzar dikhao/ Jinhe naaz hai Lucknow  par unko lao,Jinhe naaz hai Lucknow  par vo kahan hai?

I am an incorrigible street photographer Fuck F Stops

Camera clubs hardly talk about street photography ,, everything is pictorial and fine art or photojournalism literally breaks my heart ..if you see a camera club journal or newsletter it will be the same thing shot over and over again the same light the same mood copying the Renaissance old farts ..  Photography was destroyed by camera clubs bad start , thankfully from analogue I was lucky to switch to blogs ..reboot restart the computer of my mind went digital.got rid of all the photography fucked rules and warts .. no i got tired of using my camera ..I wanted stories emotions feelings not salon inspired snap shots , fuck your acceptance s your certificate of merits your pristine white washed salon walls your judges that dont know the difference between the elbow and the rectum or any other body part ...

Even the mobile phone in the right hands gets pictures ..distinctly apart ..fuck vision fuck f stops ,,, photography is neither a science but a mystical holistic soul searching feel…

The Accidental Blogger

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

Bollywoods Most Wanted Beggar Poet Of Mumbai

A stylist self made
cinematic sartorial
trade needs no
upgrade ..fully Indian
made, pictures as poems
thankfully will not jade
a mystic in monochromatic
shade will be giving his
body to medicine so his
body wont be eaten by worms
in a open gutter like grave
it wont be interred or laid
no pun intended but he calls
a fucked spade a fucked spade
keeps away from religious tirade

humanity the only universal thought
he shoots beggars homeless hijras
rafaees naga sadhus ..sleeping dogs
the symbolism of mumbai streets ..
where even god does not come to a
poor mans aid ..he is a muslim a hindu
a christian a jew a buddhist ..he cuts
his head with a sharp edged blade still
unlearning photography a medium highly
cliched ..moments relived replayed

he is not on facebook where every face
is a mask within a mask in a masquerade

Neigbors Envy Mumbais Pride - Our Mumbai Police

The Mumbai Police (Marathi मुंबई पोलिस) (also known as Brihanmumbai Police) is the police force of the city of Mumbai, Maharashtra. It has the primary responsibilities of law enforcement and investigation within the limits of Mumbai. The department's motto is "Sadrakṣaṇāya Khalanigrahaṇāya" (Sanskrit: सद्रक्षणाय खलनिग्रहणाय, "To protect the good and to destroy the evil").

It is headed by the Commissioner of Mumbai Police, who is generally an Indian Police Service (IPS) officer.

History[edit]
Origins[edit]
During the 17th century (until 1655), the area of present day Mumbai was under Portuguese control. The Portuguese formed a basic law enforcement structure in this area with the establishment of a Police out-post in 1661.[1]

The origins of the present day Mumbai police can be traced back to a militia organised by Gerald Aungier, the then Governor of Mumbai in 1669. This Bhandari Militia was composed of around 500 men and was headquartered at Mahim, Sewree and …

I Was Cosmically Destined To Shoot Beggars ..

the smile on his face
his happiness his joy
this crippled handicapped
boy..beggars who will employ
so the beggar mafia enlists them
battered shattered human toys
do they have dreams these poor
unfortunate beggar boys ,making
more money than peons office boys

Swach Bharat Kaise Banaye Ab Inhe Kahan Chupaein

har gali
har mod par
har mandir
har dargah
har masjid
ke samne
yeh phir
dikh jayein
yeh aisa
kachra
jo hatao
toh phir
wapas
ajaye

soch main
pade hain
yeh garibi
kaise hataien
koie aisi
magic ki chaddi
hoti ke inhe
gayab karein
swach bharat
badi badiya
badi acchi soch
ko bhai agae
kaise badein
aam admi ki
jhadu chinkar
kya unhe bula
kar galiyan
saf karein
hai..CCTV
har kachre ki
kundi par lagaein
take kamine jaldi
pakde jaein
inki ragon main
kachre jaisi addat
is adat ko kaise
dur bhagaien

hum toh tasvir lekar
ab kiska dil bhailyen

kone main inke ma bap
chup kar bandra east
ke bridge par inse bhik
mangwaein .. police ko
kya dikhaein.. hafta khori
ne dam tod diye swach
bharat kaise banaein


beggar poet ..bandra BJP gad
ko kaise sudar banaein....photo
khechna band karo toh sab
kuch thik ho jaye aur acche din
ujwal din bhi mumbai main ayen

I Shot A Face Wrinkled Wizened On The Surface

etched in pain and remorse
she looked deep into my
eyes paused ..she told
me i was a boat searching
for oars .. million miles
away from shore ,,
bound to dreams of
failure of-course ,,
i was a prisoner
of my surroundings
in a house where
lady luck had
locked all the
doors ,,i will
not be able
to break out
even if i used
my mystical
force ,,

i was the
product of
my passions
my mind
the cosmic
source .

delhi ke shahi taqtwalon ne keh diya ghar ghar islam

delhi ke shahi taqtwalon ne keh
diya ghar ghar islam ..kya joh
sadak par musalman bhik mangte
hain unki zindagi sudarneka kya
kiya intizam..bechare musalman
unke zakhmon par kaun lagaye
ga balm,, apko ko toh mil jati hai
charon waqt ki roti ,,apka kam
tamam ..garib na am ke am
na gutli ke dam ..ab ko sirf
lambi chodne ki adat hai
kya ghar wapsi aur kya
ghar ghar islam..

usne kaha salm wale kum
maine kaha jai shree ram

mere watan ke jhande ko salam

Bhai Chikna Bana Dena ..Main Bhi Bollywood Struggler Hoon

kam ke bad ..jakar film offices main karta hoon fariyad ,,
log mere chehre ko dekhkar dete hain dad..jab hero
ban jaoonga tab jaunga mere gaon Saifai jiski ati hai bahut yad ek din hero banneke bad main bhi banunga koie bade neta ka damad ..

Mumbai Is An Urban Slum ...Every Dreamer It Welcomes

come build tax free
houses on our streets
mumbai teaches you
to beg rob steal to stand
on your two feet ,,
come snatch our
ladies handbags
come molest rape
the kids ..our cops
will look the other
way as you rob the
money van or deal in
 counterfeit mumbai
the worlds no1 city
of crimes ..frauds
scams and cheats
at a drop of a a hat
a riot ,..crime soars
we want to make it
clean and neat by
removing garbage
a political mantra
smiling at defeat
the poor have
nothing to eat

The Homeless In Mumbai Have More Compassion For Their Homeless Pets

for years living
on the pavement
reading the newspaper
dreams wont dent ..
the cat gets his fish
milk..every morning
thanks to this pavement
dwellers kind sentiments
he hopes one day perhaps
his life changes if he could
live under a tent .provided
the government of the rich
people for the rich people
buy the rich people pays
his measly rent ..and he is
not evicted by the municipal
body snatchers ..a thought
with good intent .. he pays
the local goon the money
from his alms ..a pain he
vents .. he has committed
no sin so he need not repent
SOBO the rich mans citadel
in this poor mans life fails
to make a dent ..oh he gets
very unhappy when it rains
the only delirious pain
monsoonal godsent ..

poems are waiting to be shoot provided you can see them ..
visually artistically aesthetically ,,,ladies and gent .. use your mobile phone and hey you Indibloggers use Original Content

dedicated to Deepak Amembal Alok Vats Creofire and the rest of the plants clinging to Indi Vine ..the mouse is g…

Kishan Khadgar Diamond Jubilee Bandraite Born 1939

I was returning home from Bandra east , I had walked a lot , and he was sitting at the grocery shop where i stopped to buy salt for my flower horns I use salt after siphoning ,, and the light shone nicely on his face I took this shot , he has a small tailor shop and has traveled India extensively ..his family has stayed in Bandra for 86 years ,, Bandra bazar road , and pictures are stories ..depends whether you want to picturize a story ..or simply take a snapshot for kicks.

The camera is an intriguing device  and here I must let you into a story within a story..

In 2006 I was invited to a wedding in the suburbs I was dressed the way I am always dressed barefeet I was leashed like a dog to my wifes shadow we reached the venue , the father of the groom was an old time character actor , and he knew me as  a child when we stayed at Wodehouse Road.

The groom was very simply dressed, his wife was in sparkling red , he is a nice kid , I had my Sufii cap , I just asked him would he like t…

I Am Durga I Am Kali I Am Saraswati.. I Am A Girl Child

We don't need no education We don't need no thought control

We don't need no education
We don't need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey teacher leave them kids alone
All in all it's just another brick in the wall
All in all you're just another brick in the wall

In Praise Of Lord Shiva .. The Ultimate Peace Giver

RK Laxman .. RIP ,, Long Live The Common Man

an era comes to an end ,,
the common man lost a
good friend on twitter
for one last time he trends
heartfelt best wishes we send
sincere condolence to his family
we lend.. life in silence sans
his humor we will spend ..
but he is there at worli sea face
round the corner round the bend


From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Rasipuram Krishnaswamy Laxman[2] (24 October 1921 - 26 January 2015)[3] was an Indian cartoonist, illustrator, and humorist.[4] He is best known for his creation The Common Man, for his daily cartoon strip, "You Said It" in The Times of India, which started in 1951. Laxman was hospitalised with life threatening condition battling which the world-renowned cartoonist died. On Sunday, his condition worsened after which he was put on life support.[5]

Birth and childhood[edit]
R. K. Laxman was born in Mysore. His father was a headmaster and Laxman was the youngest of six sons;[6] an older brother is the famous novelist R. K. Narayan.

Laxman was engrossed by the…

Thirsty Beggar Child And The Empty Glass Of Juice

should i write a poem here
let it lose ..a beggar child
a puppet of the beggar mafia
round his neck a noose ..
to be what they want
him to be he did not
choose ,, sold into slavery
 by a corrupt system..
child abuse
he begs while his parents
play card .. drink booze

writing poetry to awaken the soul
of sleeping monolithic society
its of no use ...

Once Upon A Time There Was An American Lady Who Called Me A Shia Thug

piercing the poetry
of my capricious soul
with a slug perhaps
she was uncomfortable
with my Chameleon like
mug..my cosmic rings
my colorful turban my
barefeet on my shoulders
a woven shawl like rug
her clawed nails into the
flesh of my poetry she dug..
an incident in Baghdad had
a demonic effect on her
fastidious demeanor..
an incident that was frivolous
media created humbug
i called her blog goddess
perhaps she did have feelings
of a sympathetic nature for
shutterbugs ..fondly remembered
through this post with love and hugs

sartorially signed by the shia thug..
sweet lady all is fair in love and war
please dont get bugged ..water
flowing freely from a bleeding jug..

There Is A Friendly Devil In All Of Us

he is friendly
but he could
 be worse
short of
being abusive
curt and terse
he follows me
with a pitchfork
in his hand
he rides a hearse
he is my doctor
he is my nurse
sometimes i
really wonder
if he is the one
who creates
my verse
my pathos
my poetic
pandemonium
my  pangs
my libidinous
 lust ashes to
ashes he
whispers
in my ears
i will
ultimately
quench
your thirst
you mortal
man a speck
of dust

physically
i corrode and rust
in god we trust
the bubble burst

Street Photography Explained

from wikipedia


Street photography is photography that features the human condition within public places and does not necessitate the presence of a street or even the urban environment. The subject of the photograph might be absent of people and can be an object or environment where the image projects a decidedly human character in facsimile or aesthetic.

Framing and timing are key aspects of the craft, with the aim of creating images at a decisive or poignant moment. Much of what is now widely regarded, stylistically and subjectively, as definitive street photography was made in the era spanning the end of the 19th Century through to the late 1970s; a period which saw the emergence of portable cameras. The portable camera enabled candid photography in public places became an issue of discussion. Street photographers create fine art photography (including street portraits) by capturing people in public places, often with a focus on emotions displayed, thereby also recording people'…

The Mouse Trap...Love Jehad Ghar Wapsi ,,Put It Out Of Business

rusted beyond use
a mouse trap guilty
accused ..it caught
those who fell in its
love prison now by
detractors of both
communities attacked
paid media news
in a world of muslims
hindus with blinkers
on their conscience
watches bemused
layers of pain all
stacked highly fused
a poisonous pain
instantaneously
induced ,,love
once colorful
has lost its
hue ..a thought
within a thought
imbued ..giving
the devil its due

said the majnu of this
episode before you hit me
please step into my shoe..

66 Years Have Elapsed ...Another Republic Day

a round of claps
the poor have become
more poorer , the crook
commits a crime is never
caught the innocent man
takes the rap..on the face
of humanity another slap
hope got caught in a
mousetrap ..acche din
we are looking forward to
perhaps black money lies
over the ocean please
bring back the black money
economy strapped 15 years
congress rule a deficit and a
generation gap ..what happens
next wait and watch ..a girl
child cries in her mothers lap
dreading the thought of rape
molestation acid thrown at her
or burnt for not bringing dowry
will her life really be without
mishap..time snores is taking nap
let us not be a rape capital on
the worlds map...eternally entrapped

Salute To The Nation On Our 66 Republic Day

whether you are a muslim
or hindu christian or jew
if you live in India ,,respect
for the nation the flag is
the utmost due ..even
imam hussain said the first
loyalty to the country to
which you belong above all
things is holistically true

if you cant respect your
country's flag .. fuck you

Republic Day. The 66th Republic Day Celebrations Are On

i am too small
he looked at me
accusingly or to
the republic day
parade i would
have gone to
watch history
being made
obama modi
a new dawn
but i am stuck
 here at mahalaxmi
dhobi ghats as foreigners
take my picture ,,ask me
when i was born ,, i look
at them whimsically
camera porn..than an
american lady asks her
husband darling i need
to go the john...he looks
worried as there are no
toilets in this vicinity
the open air laundry
the driver blows the horn
tell the folks its time to
move on..i will never come
back to this goddamn city
of no toilets for foreigners
the angry american lady
has sworn...

happy republic day .
the show must go on ..

The Girl Child Was Born To Be Displaced

born in one house
to another house
her destination
her fate misplaced
if the husband is
good her in laws
are good no problems
will she face but if they
are rotten she will be
traumatized suffer
marital rape  burnt
for dowry her cosmic
fate defaced ..when she
dies by another rich lass
to be milked she will
be replaced ..hindustani
parampara hindustani
sanskriti ..bas lao dahez
nahi toh jala di jaogi ,,
hai ma bap ke kalejay
pe lagti hai thes.. when they
see their only daughters
burnt face ..hai ram
ya allah ..oh god
even you are helpless
the girl childs destiny
even you wont embrace

our own actions mock our race



When This Homeless Umbrella Lady Died She Left Everything Behind

at bandra reclamation
under a tattered umbrella
she made her home .
from the rains sun the
umbrella served as a
dome .she lived here
without ever standing
up dwarfish like a gnome
when she died the municipality
lifted her carcass skin n bones
as her mouth starving foamed
she never begged like a beggar
the streets she never roamed
she groomed herself bathing
with a bucket of water her
hair she combed .. my grand daughters
marziya and nerjis gave her their pocket
money ..humility is what she taught them
Jai Shree Ram Om Shanti Om..

Second Chance

everybody even god deserves a second chance …while media juggles truth public with a blindfold watches democracy’s dance

Cobbler Cobbler Mend My Shoes

stitch it
polish it
make it
glitzy
make it
stylish
make it
new
i have
to wear
it for my
best friends
wedding
a muslim girl
marrying a hindu
bollywood couple
best of two ,,
sweet soha
cute khemu

Street Photography Is An Art Form

pictures you shoot
visually palatable
than post it on the
net thanks to cable
pictures as poetry
perhaps not salable
pictures filled with
pathos pain pilfered
not amiable street
angst street life
added as label
thanks to google
search images
easily available
memories moments
energetically alive
emotionally
sustainable

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Would have not been possible without you all .

Thank You

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Obama will be the first U.S. president to attend India's Republic Day parade, ..

Obama will be the first U.S. president to attend India's Republic Day parade, ..

He wont see beggar children
selling our Indian flag our
country's USP it would degrade

or meet  Mr Arvind Kejriwal
self proclaimed anarchist .
the media made a bubble
that burst after 49 days

all the garbage removed
the city gets an upgrade
Swacch Bharat ..against
our litterbugs a new crusade

will he meet
bollywods
 most wanted
sharukh khan
salman khan
amir khan
at the republic
day parade
a thought
underplayed

or will he meet
mr kailash satyarthi
nobel prize winner
master of the poor
children s brigade

or will he meet
ms kiran bedi
the new bedi
wave ..or is it
a political gambit
outplayed ..

or will obama  try out
sarson ka sag makkai
ki roti.. dish homemade

the children of holy name
high school wish the first
lady ,,who danced to mee
hai koli ,,the very best
memories of that moment
will not fade ...the poet
is from the same school
poems in pictures
poetry misplaced .