Sunday, January 11, 2015
10 years back a picture i decided to take
my pictures are all real mind you though
poetically cosmically they appear fake
gods only lost tribe its future at stake
pictures that should keep the dead soul
of lethargic society awake a society so
fricking hypocritical intolerant holding
double standards ..of indian make
fornicate childrens forsake forced to
beg on the streets no break ..pillars of
society wont shake , sometimes sexually
abused molested raped ..mans thirst of
his languishing libido has to be slaked
I shot them in 2005 almost 10 years back at Turner Road Bandra iconic Traffic signal ..what happened to them are they alive or dead ..They have fought death running behind moving cars rickshas , they fought death living on the mound near Bandra Reclamation , and death got tired playing games with them.
And the cycle of pain of their life does not end , one generation , moves away away another generation comes to take their place at a new traffic signal.
The new generation new crop new faces semi nude dirty faces , now can be found near the Pamposh Linking Road Traffic signal or near the Khar Telephone exchange signal,
The girls now pretty , mature clapping their hands being cars begging as hijras .. this is the story of their new avatar ,, I documented it all.
I dont shoot them anymore , most of the older boys now manning other signals in the suburbs ,,the parents one never saw hen they begged , hidden away from public eyes they gambled drank fornicated , they allowed the younger girls to get pregnant as the new born baby was their investment ,, bringing in more money , drugged begging on the shoulders of another frail semi nude child.
I never saw any NGO or any social activist fighting for theor rights , the cops hand in glove ..saw all this but never had human feelings to stop it and sadly our cops have no humanity its all about big bucks.
I as a photographer shot these pictures neither for money nor for frame.I shot them so one day it would awaken people in high places from their long somnolence .
The parents enjoyed life through the prolonged misery of these children, and the disease of one generation passed on to the next .. the disease insensitivity money had to be made at all costs ,My picture stories are real.. these kids other kids and other traffic signals of heartless Mumbai.
Whether you could sleep with these children.. with money you could sleep with their drunken mothers too..
every facade of a house
tells its story the hardships
bleeding bricks sacrifice
the souls of those who
died lives within the walls
they paid the ultimate price
their unfulfilled dreams these
children will carry forward
of molten tears that dried
locked doors of apprehension
beyond lies the earthly paradise
as a street photographer i shot
hope playing hide and seek
in the childrens eyes as a poet
i used symbolism to decipher
the pain pathos as time flies
photographers are born mystics
its time you realized ..see my images
as lost illusions but first shut your eyes
fleeting moments afloat on a shoreline
if i was in florida i too would shot birds
crocodiles and serene sublime dreams
distraught but body soul intertwined
to my dear friend melds mind
The funny thing is they lived on a mound at Bandra Reclamation , they peeked into peoples house to watch TV serials and their favorite was Shaktiman..
They thought I was acting in some serial so because of my attire and because I walked barefeet they would run after me , calling me Shaktiman , but there idea was that I shoot them.. they new the camera shot pictures .
And those days my workspace was near Waterfield road and these kids manned the Globus signal from where I started for work and I passed the next lot of beggar kids from their tribe community at Turner Traffic Signal near Moti Mahal.. and after shooting the others I turned left in the second lane to work..
I would pass them again when I took a lunch break and on my return after a nap at 4 pm..
In the night after shutting shop at pm I would catch a few of them waiting for me ..and all these pictures are my tribute to them their fight against the system , these kids were forced into begging by their parents elders and the head of their group , all gamblers louts drunks and so they hated me taking the picture of the kids ...
And I will never forget them I derived my knowledge of street photography shooting them and these faces gave birth to my feelings of pain and compassion.. yes I became human shooting beggar kids their fruitless dreams little paper boats wrecked on the shores of Lifes Gutters .
Mama with my new baby
brother is waiting outside
said the beggar child with
humble pride,.as she stepped
inside , her head covered
her inner pain she tried to
hide her eyes windows of
her battered soul her guide
where is your father i asked
her as an aside he is a tailor
she did confide suffering from
TB she replied ..we help to
run the house begging on the
streets our hands tied , she
was honest she could have
lied ..uneducated illiterate
when she was born her god
died..one day in some distant
future she will be another old
crippled beggars child bride
The dog is fully aware if she is caught by the Municipal dog van..she will have to go.. like her pups and her fat lover boy .. they were not so lucky ,,
The kids take their chances too , though the parent pay hafta , protection money to the cops , so as not to get caught ..or they will be taken to the children's home or released to the parents after paying Rs 1200 per kid.
So life on the streets is pretty tough both for the bitch and the man kids ..
And this was shot in 2005 opposite Globus now Mark and Spencers , these kids have disappeared in their place are a new lot of kids of Rajasthani women dressed ethnic who sell imitation junk jewelry ..and its a huge community that has invaded Bandra Hill Road.
The long tie beggar of Bandra English speaking Junkie has gone some other place he used to sit shit sleep at bus stop opposite Bhabha Hiospital.
Maria the Leper Lady who sat at Boran Road off Bandra Hill Road went to her hometown to escape the rains has not returned ..
And I have pictorial records of all the beggars old new in Bandra ,,,short stories that end abruptly ,, as they disappear as fast as I shot them.
Jaffar Bhai is around the bearded senior beggar I pay him most of the time , his contemporary Khwajah Baba is not to be seen , most probably gone to visit his only married daughter , he begs for her , and his grandchildren.
The blind boys guardian is around minus the blind boy .
And so I am updating old memories with a breath of fresh air ,, I do not need a camera to shoot pictures ..my archives are enough to galvanize the passion of my poetry of life ..
Zarb by Nasir Bhai Rafaee Dongri ...
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