Friday, June 5, 2015

The Muslim Beggar With Tumor In His Head

On His Blindness .. An Interview With A Blind Beggar

Rise PSI ..Photographic Society of India Mumbai

My dear Friends who mentored me when I joined PSI .
Created out of the womb of photographers love soon
it began to die ..politics demoralized this grand institution
the walls wept the soul let out a sigh their graves
Phani banda Sam Tata K.g. MaheshwariJatkar Mitter Bedi
other greats who had nurtured this great Alma Mater .. cried
luckily I had moved a million light years away but my love
for my first step as a photographer pulled me back..bringing
tears to my eyes ..those momentous Fridays , those happy
days once this place for newcomers was Paradise
could enter its portals as yourself without wearing disguise

Awaken the Soul of This Grand Lady Oh Lord Let It Rise
please dont forget the struggle more than 75 years what
a sacrifice ,,,how time flies ..with malice to none
are a PSI member so am I ,....Sridhar guru of humility
who loved me like a brother Hindu Muslim amity
beyond caste color greed ..a thought even you wont ever deny

My first blog of the day as I step out for my morning walk.Nitin Pawar and my dear friend Vilas Gholse helped me a lot ,, I knew nothing they used their potters hands to mold this ordinary piece of clay, a pitcher that is filled with tears .. for one and all

Happy Morning

Shooting The Soul Of Madness

I have been shooting madpeople since a very long time , I documented their tragic lives as a street photographer ..than I recently carved a set called Mad People of India at Flickr ,,perhaps there are many I shot at Dargahs at the Kumbh Maha Kumbh and in my walk of life that I have not added to this set.

I saw many mad people living at Bandra Bazar road and sadly they disappeared without a forwarding address ..but they live through the pictures I shot ,,A part of me is still scared to shoot mad people but I take my chance ready to be attacked or hit with a rock ..a mad lady curses abuses and carries a rock I shot her too.. what makes them mad .. there are so many questions .. mostly women go mad because of guys who destroyed them with false love and drinks and drugs ,forced into mad houses they come out more mad than ever .. do people or the government really care about mad people or even sane people locked up in mental homes ,, Indians hardly care for Indians .. living unliving or even the dead ..

I shot this lady at VT taking a moving low shot with my camera two shots ,, if I had the guts I could sit next to her shoot her video ask her questions ,,, but I dont have it in me yet , but I am accumulating it gradually ,,I shot two videos of beggars in very bad shape at Ghatkopar not my area .. I was not scared .luckily I dont look like a typically run of the mill media person.. I look like a beggar myself..

We are all mad in degrees .. I have a mad side too it was very mad violent stupid when I drank.. now it is sane and fucked sober ,, once I was dead drunk had a fight with mY wife without provocation jumped from an old building first floor ,, I was staying at First Pasta Lane my wife did not know what happened I landed at Badhwar Park badminton ground , I fell with a thud and my leg was numb ..lying next to where I fell was somebody's wooden crutch I picked it up and limping walked back home ..
I realized not just cats even humans have nine lives ,,I have put my mad side to sleep..

Will Camera Clubs Ever Have Blogging On Their Agenda

As long as I was connected to my camera club I was the only one that took the path that bought me to Brandon Stones Photo Blog Org and Biz Stone pulled me over to Blogspot .

Than it was Buzznet Fotothing and Webshots I finally reached the shores of Flickr in 2007 ,, I gave up the world of Prints completely and became an incorrigible photo blogger ,, my vision did not restrict me I began to write blog poetize with my bad grammar , but I could make my pictures talk like a ventriloquist I hid my echo behind my pictures I shot ,,
At the same time years later I realized I was a street photographer even if I shot an event indoors my mind was that of a street photographer ,, the moment you post a picture you are a blogger whether you like it or not and I would rather be a blogger than pretend I am a photographer .. the Blog changed my life my attitude towards life and I shoot my own original content ,,

I remember the very earlier days of blogging Media wrote our obituary every Sunday and we lived to tell the tale every Monday , they killed us we got resurrected through our blogs and the blog gave us a wide tapestry wide range from pictures to poetry and a bit of prose .

The only blog platforms I was associated with Blog Adda I hardly interact there , and Indiblogger I used a lot and than decided to call it a day.. Now Ello is the blog platform I like , the huge pictures and some great photographers and a genius called Paul Budnitz ,,there are others many and it is a different world ,,

I use Blogspot  several blogs ,, divided into Hindu blogs Shia Blogs and Poetry Blogs and my Granddaughter Marziya Nerjis Zinnia I build their blogs too ..

I use Tumblr as Flickr facilitates reblogging ,,and Twitter too and Facebook all via Flickr .

I use Twitter to pimp my Flickr Blogs ,, ever site has a different mindset ,Facebook has a different range  from that of Twitter .. and you use Twitter if you are good at fighting with 140 words without gloves ,, Facebook you simply need to shadow box lol.

I have nothing against camera club I am a product of a camera club but camera clubs have become regressive , they those old folks in the old folks home dont accept change at all ,, they shun young blood they dont want blood transfusion they are fucked scared they will lose it all and I must remind them that a new Age of young wiz kids hackers are coming to slam their pedantic pompous pedagogic ass ..

Long Live The Blog ..where rights of admission are reserved for humans but not to sleeping dogs ,, white colored neuters even curly haired golliwog ..a prince in the guise of a frog.. welcome to our weblogs ..

After I Shot This Picture I Realized Motherhood Is Godliness

a rich mother pampering her child i saw
a poor mother begging with her child
caught violently in hungers jaws ..i
captured the moment hurriedly from
my rickshah ..sometimes when you
are drowning in the seas of your cosmic
fate you could still be saved by a straw
was this the photographer in me or a son
that held the moment in my claws ..humanity
died when compassion died ..thanks to
our urban laws ..society made us outlaws

dedicated to my dear friend boaz

Sometimes Friendship Is Thicker Than Blood .

lasting long living reliving beyond
actions deeds or words ..friendship
not ending like soapsuds ..genuine
friendship that might sound absurd
a sindhi a muslim made molded
from the essence of this very mud
I am writing this directly on Facebook as I mentioned time and again I use Facebook as a blog platform.. I pimp my Flickr blogs here but sometimes I blog here .
I have many Sindhi friends as I lived at Coaba though I am ashamed I cant speak the language as fluently as both my brothers Shakil Shakir andFirdos Shakir They speak Sindhi and sometimes sound and gesture emote like Pucca Sindhis ..
I once worked at Charagh Din my first salesman's job and here it was Sindhi Sindhi Sindhi... but that part of my life is another story.. My best friend Ramesh Mulchandani made me a Sindhi , making me gorge on Sindhi papad , Sindhi curry and breathing Sindhi .. Cheti Chand No Mela and celebrating Guru Nanik day..
But than I moved to Bandra leaving behind my Sindhi friends Sindhi ethos ..and I worked for a Sindhi boss a very Big Boss type but than again that is another long story I shall narrate on some other blog page .
I will start with an anecdote to introduce you to my next Sindhi friend a brother like no brother ..A film director who had worked with Mr Danny Denzongpa , impressed with my work and styling offered me an assignment for a South Indian actor I was given a nominal advance and I was to stitch some stuff and bring readymades at Mr Atul Kasbekars studio , the lady hero clothes were assigned to one of the top most lady designer of Bollywood .
I reached the studio with two suitcases of readymades taken from my Sindhi friend Anil Hirani the exceptional hero my story..he gave me most of the stuff on approval , he used to give me loads when I worked with Mr Govinda .. suitcases and I was prompt in returning the unused stuff and paying for the stuff the actor selected , whether the producer paid me or not I settled my bill at Nostradamus .. the most iconic jean tshirt boots jacket store on Bandra Hil Road belonging to the Hiranis .
I was Anils dads favorite , he would talk with me listen to me .
Well the photo session got over and I thought I will hand over my bill for the stuff I had made and for the stuff used for the shoot and believe it or not the director disappeared and I was stuck with just the nominal advance I did not get money for the stuff I had made nor the stuff used from my friend Anil Hiranis collection , all make up soiled .
I bought the stuff home called the director but ...the phone was off the hook the lady designer put her hands up as she wanted me to pick up the heros ready mades from Try Me that I had flatly refused .
I gave up hopes I had to return Anils stuff I told him my story and told Anil I would pay from my pockets the stuff that was used and soiled ..I asked him to give me time to pay for the stuff .. Anil called his sales boy asked him to take back all the stuff and he said to me Firoze you owe me nothing .. forget about it .. and I had tears in my eyes this was long way back.. and from that day till today I have been a close friend of Anil Hirani..
When I owed money to Anil my payment came late Anil never called me and one day Anil was in bed sick and I had got a payment I went to his house to give it to him , his mother admonished me politely ,, never to to do that again but I told her it had been delayed for sometime .. than she made me sit down and served me Sindhi breakfast.
Cut to 2015 ,, I had made some jeans for a a very important client , and after the jeans were made he insisted he wanted them jeanwashed ..I knew a few guys but they had closed down they did acid wash stonewashed etc .. I tried everywhere , another good friend tried but his laundry friend does bulk wash so after two weeks I got the jeans back.. And than my wise wife said why dont you talk to Anil Hirani , I did and Anil went out of his way , and I was with him today with the jeans outside Standard Chartered Bank Bandra , he spoke to his contact , and I took the jeans to a setup at Ghatkopar by ricksha and the guys will do it for me only because of Anil Hirani ,,
So on my way back from the laundry I met two sets of beggars at Ghatkopar I sad down shot their videos .. and once in the rickshah I called up Anil Hrani and thanked him .. so this is a simple story devoid of passion pathos or poetry ,, but this is a story of a great friend my Sindhi friend Anil Hirani I thanked him and here I must add when I go to Ajmer or Pushkar I pray for all of them,.
And I have another great Sindhi friend I have made his wedding wardrobe , and at his wedding at Nehru Platenarium the chief guest was Mr LK Advani and as I entered the venue in my Pathani turban and lots of jewelry I was immediately taken into custody by his bodyguards they thought I was a terrorist I had a silver stick in my hand that they pried open .. there was no knife in it , I kept telling them I was Suren Gurbaxani the grooms designer and friend and before I was to be handed over to the local cops Suren rushed in and bailed me out ,, there was no mobile phones those days ,, So my tryst with Sindhis ,,is as old as my own history ,, there are others too I am connected to here on Facebook and they have all contributed to my humanity ,,,Mr Romu Sippy Mr Raj Sippy Shaan Uttamsingh and the list is very long ..
So I will now blog this at Flickr Ello Tumblr and a shout out on Twitter ..and I am bad selfie taker .. and use a bad phone called Lumia 640 a godforsaken Window phone ,,

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