Muslim Mothers Pain

to a cosmic wheel
viciously enchained
forever a beggar she
will remain to a god
hard of hearing she
fervently complains
manacled painfully
to her misery she
wants to break free
of these rusty heavy
chains pursued by
more rejection on
the silent soul of
her dreams some
more vicissitudes
of pain..two children
a third waiting on
the threshold
peeking in through
the panes her life
wasted in vain

The Muslim Beggar Girl...On Bakra Eid

held captive to her doomed state
begging for alms on the streets
when she grows a little older her
parents will marry her off to another
crippled deformed beggar her fate
she cant cheat ..with the money the
groom to be will  give her parents
they will pay off their creditors in
the neighborhood of their slums they
will distribute sweets ,,happy days
a burden off their shoulder a liability
they will dispose of satisfaction  time
for the nikah and feast ,,necessity the
mother of invention no more fear of
the young  son of the butcher who was
stalking their daughter that beast,..a
story within a story time for a treat
a beggar girl her lost illusions her lost
dreams catapulting her from one stage
of her life to another both sides defeat
embalming an imaginary moment when
the cosmic eye of the camera and a beggar
child in a hijab accidentally awkwardly meet

If Wishes Were Horses Would Beggars Ride

What is the  mother thinking begging on the streets  on Bakra Eid at Bandra most of my beggar stories are born in Bandra ,, what is her son thinking ..is he thinking I dressed in saffron am mocking them  I certainly dont look like a person from their community and I normally wear black  it was just a last minute decision to wear this obtrusive attire on a Muslim feast day with no allusions or hidden meanings ,, and it was this attire I had kept ready to go shoot the last Shahi Snan I was to leave on 23 Sept but it did not happen I gave myself another chance  24 Sept and than I waited for a miracle too but the person who was going to sponsor my trip forgot all about it ,, I decided to stay back in Mumbai celebrate Eid with my grandkids and shoot the Eid Namaz ,, Eid Al Adha at Bandra Station Road ,,

I dont want to shoot Nasik 12 years hence I dont know with malfunctioning kidneys gall bladder and  unhealthy pancreas whether I will be alive to shoot the Kumbh,,, so I wore the saffron as my winding sheet of my failed pictorial desires ,,my Naga Guru called me but his call did not help at all.

So back to the beggar mother and her grown up son begging helplessly on Bakra Eid ,,and I have shot many of them .. the pathos of their undying failed dreams ,, and they come from distant suburbs to Bandra West ,,why Bandra West beats me ,

I have shot the Azad Maidan Eid Namaz .. I shot it very long time back but it is Bandra Station Eid Namaz that adds beauty to this spiritual calisthenics of Faith ,,I shot a lot of beggars during Eid Ul Fitr as compared to  Eid Al Adha ,, Ramzan is a Month of Piety Charity and much more ,,,

I have shot over 5000 images of Muslim beggars as they touched the inner soul of my camera ,,shot and showcased their struggle survival and their perennial hardtimes ..the ones I shoot are hardly members or adherents of a beggar mafia ,, these are helpless creatures fending for themselves ,, trying to make ends meet with the most shameful humiliating job profession called beggary that keeps alive the temples of diverse faith ,, and the spiritual market that needs beggars as man needs water and air ,,


This world’s existence is one night long. There’s a great lively gathering that night, but some people sleep through it. ~Rumi

Muslim Mother Begs ..Bakra Eid Mubarak

It was her little son I shot first staring at me in my saffron attire barefeet , he was curious he was scared but when I handed him some money , his young mother smiled and I shot her ,,I shot the humility of her beggars life  on our feast day , I shot her lifes failure , was her husband bedridden too,, why was she begging and in the chaos there was no time to ask her this simple power packed question,, I shoot pictures and let pictures talk emote and sensitize my soul.. if she was in my backyard I would have shot her video.. we must know why we have failed the lesser privileged ones of our  community ..

Being a photographer and a beggar poet  sometimes it is the poet in me the beggar too that overpowers the soul of my  street photography .. down the line every street picture is a story , in words if you decode it or in silence if you become one with it ,,

I get along well with two main communities .. the beggars and the transgender hijras that I shot ,, and beggars among them I poeticized their pain as it passionately grasped me in a vice and a hold..

This mother and her child were waiting near the bus stop , the photo journalists were dramatically shooting the posing Eid Hugging kids and I was shooting her and her kid ,, and hugging the pain of their doomed destiny with my own ..

This time I shot less I did not hang around I just cut across the slums I had to meet a beggar suffering from encephalitis last time I had begged  with him..earned him some money . this time he sat there desolate at Bandra Slaughter house compound I gave him some money and hoped that he gets more alms ,,for me Bakra Eid namaz is just the beginning not the end I search for stories and transform them into pictures such is the power of the camera and its cosmic lens that penetrates the soul of human  poetry.

And I skipped the poem here it would rob her of the tribute I was paying her after clandestinely stealthily removing her soul from her body.. I only left her with the spectral light and its disillusionment in her veiled eyes ,,

God Made Me Human You Made Me A Beggar She Said

accusing me my kind the hijab covering her head
within the fiery orbs her eternal pain I read ..cursing
her girls fate born a Muslim she took Allahs name to
earn her bread watching rich fat Muslims buying goats
why did they not slaughter her so like the goat she too
would be dead ,, since immemorial times she has been
sacrificed even after she weds a triple talaq hanging over
married head ..and the mullah wants her too suffer more
instead .. the only women happy in heaven are the 72 nubile
angels waiting for misplaced martyrs  blown up dead .
such were my thoughts heretic for some as they buzzed aloud
in my crazy head ..a picture a story ,,of a child without home
nor the comforts of a bed .. i gave her some money furtively
from the cosmic vision of my camera she hurriedly fled

Demystifying The Essence of Photography .

posted at Facebook

Having a camera you shoot pictures , post it on Facebook , Flickr ,,[I dont use Instagram ] or post it on Twitter ,,I too used to shoot pictures when I crossed over from analogue to digital.. once I began posting pictures on the internet I was unwittingly baptized as a blogger early 2004..For me the Gods of blogging those early raw novice years were Brandon Stone Photoblogs Org I think and Biz Stone co founder Blogspot and Twitter ,,

Now after blogging shooting pictures to be showcased online ,, a lot of changes happened thanks to Flickr the source of my photoblog , my archive and my coming of age as an incorrigible prolific blogger ,.. I was a fish among bigger fish at Flickr they still call themselves photographers I call myself a blogger ,,

I dont shoot pictures I shoot unfinished incomplete stories ,, you decide the end you dont see my picture you read my story as words silently embedded in the soul of my blog.. and a picture story hardly needs language ,,but because I am on an International platform I use English to poeticize the pain within my story.

I may have shot with my peers ,foreign photographer even Indian learnt unlearnt something but I followed my own heart , I dont expect you to trigger shoot like me .. but you must be fucked crazy to even imagine I will shoot like you ,,NEVER.

I think shooting pictures is easy with the aid of the camera but shooting stories adding it to a story board is where the mystification comes in.. I shoot seasons religion .. religiously I become part of the religion I shoot ,,I shot the story of Ganesha than told you the story of Mount Mary through the eyes two Muslim girls age 4 and 7 Nerjis and Marziya both my granddaughter .. daughters of my eldest son.. a Shia scholar , a tutor a conservative and modern as a web designer ,,when I say conservative I mean traditionalist.

I taught both my granddaughters to shoot stories ,, normally before the advent of Bakra Eid or Eid Ul Adha I shot the goat markets near JJ Colony Bandra ..simply that people should buy goats from these sellers Bandraites locals instead of going all the way to Deonar .

So this evening I was at Puma store some work , than I got off at Bandra Talao video shot Shiv Sena Shaka Pramukh Mr Sudesh Dubeys Ganpati Pandal at Bandra SV Road ,, and cut across through JJ Colony met a friend buying a goat shot his picture to make the butcher happy and someone was tugging my breeches I thought it is a goat turned out to be this little girl in the picture ,, I saw her soul reflected in her eyes .. she wanted money I gave her something..

And this is my story,, festivals bring happiness to all, those who will do Qurbani.. go for the Eid Al Adha Namaz and this feast on a lesser note than Ramzan brings happiness alms to beggars ,, Ramzan is big time charity ..and I wondered why I had not come earlier but than the last time I shot here was the demolitions of the illegal stalls ..this time there are not many goat stalls ,,for the same reason..the butcher who sold the goat to my friend once when to hit me during Ramzan when I was shooting the food pictures I was fasting I kept my cool .. but today the same butcher is a good friend , misunderstandings happen .. but he surprised me he said Sir please dont forget to place the picture on Twitter and than I realized Fuck Yes Twitter is miles ahead of Facebook with 140 words in Davids sling hitting the Goliaths of the World..

So this is a picture story I blogged at Facebook and will now copy paste to Flickr pimp it on Twitter cross blog it to Tumblr and than Blogspot it....

I dont use Ello anymore ,, my pictorial presence out there is a marker on a gravestone ,,,

The Only Thing We Make Effortlessly In India Are Our Indigenous Beggars

I shot her outside Kurla West station she was in a real bad state I gave her some money ,, but all the money she gets in coins or notes does not count for much..a part of me told me sit next to her video shoot her story ,, why was she begging ..at this age what happened to force her to beg..but than I let it go.. I shot 2 or 3 frames ,,there are many like her on the streets of Mumbai thrown out by their own children.. Old lady go beg or dont come home ,, it is sad , and this picture or words is not forced melodrama but the poetry of street life that I prolifically shoot as Muslim Beggars of India .

Most beggars come to Mumbai the city of Hopeful dreams during Ramzan when the Lord too comes down on  earth in the guise of a beggar I doubt if God would ever come down in the guise of a Mullah..

I have shot far too many beggars but it is the Muslim beggar that I shoot and showcase to the big fat rich Muslim moneybags who turn the other way from beggars and now in a week or two when Bakra Eid or Eid Ul Adha begins the rich Muslims will be buying rich goats no bulls this time they will buy rich expensive Allah inscribed Dumbas ,, instead of a single goat some will buy a dozen goats .. will they send a couple of goats the childrens home or to the widows home ,, no ,, they will send the Skins ,, and this is the irony I shoot ,, I once used to go to shoot this spiritual Tamasha at Deonar but I stopped it completely ,, I have a lot of butcher friends and with due respect to their profession and their efforts Bakra Eid is nothing but an ostentatious show of money power among the rich Muslims ,,,

We used to slaughter the goat but last two years we give the money to a children s home and this is our personal act and has nothing to do with Qurbani..

And every year the Hijras come to our building for meat and one of them will call me aside ask for Marziya my  granddaughter who shot this hijra when she was 3 years old.

This is love in its noblest form.. did the hijra get blessed by the little child I know not ..but it is this ethereal power within the cosmic soul of the camera that holds my inner restless angst..

Yes I shoot beggars as a beggar myself my camera is the beggars bowl that begs for beggar pictures  and Fuck I dont sell my pictures beggars or otherwise ,