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 running the old city ,, garbage is everywhere ,, you cant miss it .. it is the beauty of a badly managed Old Lucknow .

RIP Old Lucknow

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 .