Wednesday, January 21, 2015

The Whippers Face

with his pregnant wife
two kids he moves about
the city whipping his back
earning alms with dignity
grace his trials sufferings
etched on his face i shot
avidly this struggling
denizen of a dying
human race ,,for his
survival with his family
he continues the chase
does he have dreams
does he have ideals
does he have other
inspirations i thought
to myself as his cause
i embraced will society
pull him in the mainstream
will it guide him address
his problems a tribal man
lost in an urban maze
but society is hypocritical
it has no heart for beggars
hijras only heart for cats
strays .. yes it is this society
where the poor was betrayed
to its whims fancies made to
clean gutters , clean toilets
kept in its  rightful place
the dhobhi the mochi the
chamar  the kinar .rights
reserved  humanity artfully
misplaced beguiled bemused
by society's ways yes separated
segregated dear friends that
is how it stays racism bigotry
is in its bloodstream in the
first place ,..for the rich the
powerful the affluent another
part of society enslaved
for equality oneness
the path to humanity
is wavering unpaved
if it was humanly possible
they would send the poor
the beggars back to the caves

to my friend anuj nair
who is back from a
dreamless wave

The Whippers

This is one tribe I simply loved to shoot , but its been a very long time I have not shot them , I loved to take their whip and try it on my back..that earned me their respect .

I hardly see them and when I do I dont have my camera . some folks I will never be able to shoot on my mobile phone ,,

And I am not that good  with mobile phone photography and I use Motoral G old one ..

I dont carry my Canon DSLR anymore  like I used too.

Glenn my friend is in India shooting away , no he hates Mumbai all of a sudden so I will not see him this year ,,too much familiarity is not good it restricts camera based creativity I think.

I did not shoot the Standard Chartered Marathon never will as it is a elitist sports here in Mumbai making big bucks for all concerned except the beggar on the street. It is a event for Yuppies Celebrities and Page 3 ,. I stopped shooting this race completely ,,the runners went pass my house but it did not affect my pictorial curiosity ,, I am an opinionated thinking photographer , I shoot shit provided it has something to say for the larger good .

People call me for certain events and I know why , they know I will shoot upload and bingo they are on the net .. I stopped all that too .. I would rather shoot garbage on the roads , and all the politicians of India , if they took brooms to clean Mumbai ,, the very net day it will be overladen by garbage , these garbage and scams that are gifted to Indians by a very humorous God ,,God loves Indians ,,goes without saying.. and even crooks love God ,, I asked a crooked man why he was crooked in his dealings he answered matter of fact like ,, Upparwala Deta Hai Neechewala Leta Hai. translated loosely it means God above gives Man below takes .

And if anyone has ever destroyed India ,, it has been the narrow minded bigotry of politicians and religious heads .. they all see India through dark glasses.

But all in all I would rather live die in India ,, I could never imagine in my wildest dreams living in Pakistan Saudi Arabia or even Iran.. not even Europe America Australia or Africa.

Asian countries  dont excite me give me Ajmer Pushkar or Ladakh.. or the NorthEastern states ..

As long as I can shoot faces and stretch my imagination doing street photography.

I Asked God For One Good Guru.. God Was In A Good Mood He Gave Me Three

he added others too all free
like anil bhartiya pc little
vinay parelkar girish mistry
than via Flickr he gave me
hundreds thousands so many
a photographer is truly a
photographer if he understands
humility ..glitzy cameras lenses
cannot set your creative soul free
if you do not promote preach
humanity ..a photographer like
a carpenter with a hammer or
a camera in your hands you
can be ,,but are you really
what you are tell me honestly
search scratch your hardened
soul dont end up as a showy
megalomaniac posturing as
a man of creativity ,, teach others
not just yourself the essence of
true photography.. dont just be
another marwari . selling pictures
not for greater good only for money

dedicated to all my three gurus
jatkar malushte and mashwari

photography is nothing but visual poetry
showing to others what others could not see

The Gemstone Seller ..Sufi Bawa Stray Thoughts On Blogging

Over the years that I have been shooting people I have met some strange ones and I shot them impulsively ,, mostly I shot them without taking their permission with just a pleasant smile that worked or failed .

But mind you I knew whom to shoot whom to avoid , and others allowed me to shoot them as they knew I was a Bawa like them barefeet , bejeweled and meant no harm.

But there are those who can be rough abusive  and still after taking their pictures I dont delete it just move on.

I shoot faces postures moods , I shoot time and space .. though I have a million shortcomings , I dont talk much , I dont ask questions I dont take notes .Sometimes I take their mobile phone number but I hardly keep in touch.. but with all this I am not an opportunist I have no agenda I dont shoot to sell pictures and if I do write something it is years after I shot them.

I recently got a call from someone , he said he was Babu it was an old feeble voice I told him I was unwell and indisposed .. he wanted to see me , he called me after a few days this time I told him he could meet me in Bandra I still did not ask him from where he was he sounded from Hyderabad .

He came from Ghatkopar and said he was at Bandra Station , I told him to wait for me at Lucky Hotel , its a 10 minutes walk from my house to Bandra Lucky hotel.. and he was a person who used to be very kind to me in Hyderabad during Moharam, always taking care of me .. a Shia gent .

I bought him home offered him meals and after sometime he was about to leave I put some money in his pocket with dignity , he did not say anything hugged me and left insisting I should come more often to Hyderabad so I told him I wont be coming to Hyderabad as I need to shoot different cities every Moharam.. He nodded his head and than I got a call from my childhood friend Dennis Fernandes from Surinam .. so he came over I immediately offered him food , he was very tired he talked about his life we were meeting after 18 years from the last time we met ..

In short I have come to an understand that we only meet people we were destined to meet online offline ,, there is a cosmic connection between souls .

I have met so many Bawas Naga Sadhus people from different walks of life some took my visiting card , I always lost the numbers I took from them as I dont carry a phone diary or a journal I just dot it down and I hate storing it on my phone too tedious and painful.

I recently got a message on About Me ,, from a person I dont know she was talking about knowing me as a child perhaps 7 year old at that time when I stayed at Wodehouse Road Khatau Bhuvan.. she stayed in the next cluster of buildings that was known as Char Bunglow  sounding same as the Andheri one ,, but she was not sure if I was the same person..

Her message

lena  sent you a message

Hi firoze - u luk very familiar - do u have a younger sis named 'munni' were u living in d bldg nxt to 'char bangla' u used to cum to play in our compound n sum kids used to bully u - was ur dad was a tailor - munni was a sweet kid but u always were a bit different in d sense always quiet, brooding type i never knew u went to HNHS cos me n my two bros went der too - their names were Kutty n Ashi, u may remember Ruby n Jassim? May u r not d un or may b u r d un .... shall b glad to know if u r d un by d way my name is Leena

And this is about early 60s ,, and this is the power of the Internet , you are connected , I met so many people I lost touch , and mind you I am not on Facebook.. just Flickr Twitter
Google + I met Glenn , Marc De Clercq, Jean Marc Gargantiel, Reza Masoudi, Kim Viola , Boaz , Francois FO Travels , all via the Internet .some became very good friends some moved away forever leaving no trace but memories tha ar part of my poetic journey of life .

And I am extrovert , but I have no social life no friends I am not part of any group or association,, I have done it all drank took drugs fornicated now I have become humanly saintly I stay to myself.. once in a while I meet people like the Holy Name High School 75 year celebrations .. or during the Sufi Urus , Moharam outside Mumbai, and the Kumbhs .

And these pictures I am reblogging are old images I have tweaked as monochrome , with added new thought , and it is amazing the dimensions you get to add to an old image ,, and I am jumping from one genre to the other as per the images on my CDS DVDS .. which were once my backup.

This Sufi man and his wife sell gemstone as rings prayer beads necklace bracelet , they live in makeshift tents husband wife , cook their meals themselves and sometimes share it with strangers like me ,, he respects me a lot as I wear more chunky stuff than me most of my stuff is original he is forced to sell fakes too.

I have met him at Hussain Tekri Jaorah and most of my trips to Ajmer Urus ..and these are all original content I would get brain hemorrhage if I did take stuff from the net and palmed it as my own.. and duplicate unreadable fucked shit and guys who blog such stuff are not bloggers by any means but web plagiarists ,,I encourage bloggers , I read see their stuff but there are some I pity considerably that when will they realize what they post has no readable value .

And I also copy stuff text from Wikipedia as I dont know the religious background of the images I have taken.

Most of my images are mere title no description , some are accidentally poeticized.

And I have a huge lot of images I am selectively re posting as a new blog adding freshness to old imagery ,,,and the person who is destined to read me see my stuff will do it ,,tag or no tag ..not because of my seniority as an incorrigible blogger , sometimes mediocrity is another form of originality ..

Good Morning From Cool Comfy Bandra

Ps I always moderate my text images before I upload them..I dont kick ass even though use my ass more as a football than a sanguine posterior that thinks too..

The best afterthought on this image I hope it touches all of you I follow know ..

I'm glad you entered into my life on this venue...

Thank you Mind Meld ..

Death Is Better Than Being Born as Beggar Girl Child

forced into begging from
the day she was born to
whom does she complain
her god of the beggars
dumb deaf mute who
hardly uses his brain
the god of all beggarly
things is insensitive
immune to pain ,,
in a world that is
slowly becoming
inhumanly insane
her silent cries
all in vain

another child
hope going going
gone .. down the drain

parched soul of humanity
can do without rains as
tears flow like a deluge
another soul slain ,,,

I Am Nothing But A Mask

Why I am What I Am
its a personal definition
of my poetic pain please
dont ask..a man who was
once caught as genie in
a rum flask ,,time and tide
rigorously took him to task
changing the perception of
pathos diligently rigorously
he became a silhouette of
his silence unasked is
now time said his uneven
alter ego to get unmasked

dedicated to my friend randall der ..

गुरु बिन ज्ञान नहीं गुरु बिन ज्ञान नहीं रे।

Both My Gurus Mr KG Maheshwari And Prof BW Jatkar Have Left Me And Gone

leaving me alone
their teachings
their words of
wisdom thrust
on my cosmic
they have flown
leaving me sad
on my own
their kindness
to take me under
their stewardship
a talent they honed
those early morning
calls on my phone
jatkar sab in his
baritone voice
babuji mr
in muted sweet
tone ..both are
now part of my
memory my blood
sweat and bones
with their reflected
divine light a part
of me shone ,,
when i die i too
will be part of a
pictorial trinity
lost forever in
an unknown zone
leaving behind
my fragmented
genius my cosmic
rings all my exotic
a beggar poet
his diabetic dilemma
dreams deleted that
he eventually disowned
an aquiline nose red
indian like cheekbones
body that wont ever
need a tombstone
alas only if i could
have cleared my
unpaid loans

at Flickr
the only