Maria the Leper Lady Bandra Boran Road

I had known Maria since the time I lived at 21 De Monte Street an extension of Bandra Bazar Road where we stayed for about 11 years .

But I was not into beggar photography at all I was caught between fine art and photojournalism.

But when an ace American photographer Dr Glenn Losack MD from Manhattan New York saw my Moharam matam bleeding pictures he befriended me and came down to shoot Ashura in Mumbai with me .

He shot leper affected people beggars lunatic asylum patients and he was also an eminent psychiatrist and photographer .

He saw Maria the leper lady and shot her extensively including her grandchildren son daughter of Mary also a beggar and Marias daughter .

So this was my tryst with shooting Maria the leper lady a photo set on my Flickr timeline ..

Dr Glenn was hoping to get Maria treated but Maria just wanted money her plaint was if she is healed who will give her money.

I took over helping Maria once Glenn left than my granddaughter Marziya and Nerjis began shooting her .both were very small..Marziy was about 3 year old and Nerjis was about a few months old.

I wanted both my granddaughter to see pain feel pain and understand the cryptic meaning of Charity .

Both Marziya and Nerjis gave her their pocket money ,,time passed and just before the onset of monsoon Maria would leve Mumbai as her soft parts of her body began to fall off ,

But an amazing part of Maria she has sockets for eyes ..she was smart as the drug addicts stole her money or ran away with her beggars tin..

She would tie this tin to the stump of her leg and hide the notes beneath another bowl within the begging tin.

Once Glenn left she would pester me when will he come yes sh had fallen in love with my American friend and almost all women fell in love with Glenn,,

Years passed and Maria who had disappeared returned back to Bandra this time sitting on a wheelbarrow like a queen..and her companion was Kadappa a leper who was connected to Sharda leper mother .

Kadappa was a shrewd man he told me he was Marias brother but I did not bother I would buy breakfast for both of them every morning while returning from tennis ..

Maria they say was a Hindu she saw light and converted to Hinduism along with her daughter Mary and there was a nun Sister Cristobal from the Order of Mother St Theresa who had a small space opposite Bhabha Hospital who bathed beggars gave them food medicine etc

I mentioned to her about Maria but than St Cristobal was inflicted by a terminal disease shifted to UK.

Maria and Kadappa have both disappeared and last few week when I met them it was Mary pushing the wheelbarrow ,

Now even Mary has disappeared but Mary was trying to become a Muslim and begged as a Muslim outside the Boran street Sunni Jamatkhana .

In all these two leper stories of Maria and Sharda I terribly miss Shardas son Arjun..

Marias video is on You Tube ,,

But sadly nobody not een media came forward to help her Media comes only when a nondescript photographers video goes viral on You Tube ,,

All my beggar stories ar on You Tube ..only the Muslim beggars are part of a playlist ..

The other part of Marias story is though she could not see she knew I was around was it my footsteps or was it sense of smell. God knows .

Begging In The Rains , Brother Sister Reflect Their Pain

wheelchair bound in chains
life is miserable but they wont
complain a drunken father
who lies fallen in a drain
a bedridden mother half
insane they beg to survive
husk and grain ..the boy
worked for a fisherman
selling fresh fish outside
the Bandra bazar but
no fishing in the rains
this is life captured by
my camera ..as it wanes

poor miserable toilers
beggars caught between
want and needs
they will always remain

I Shoot The Bhaiyyas Blithe Spirit

He sells coriander at the Bandra Bazar road market he sits near the statue of Jesus Christ the favored Saint of All The Poor Vegetable sellers at the Bazar .
After he finishes for the day he comes to this place at De Monte street , has his frugal lunch and falls asleep near the shut doors of a shop.

He does not talk , I know from his body language that he is unhappy , his wretched defeated demeanor ..all speak out of his struggle to survive ..and he is the iconic migrant beleaguered sometimes bought down by political misadventure , he is a North India Bhaiyya , he left the green fields Of Uttar Pradesh to weave his dreams in Mumbai.
I have never talked to but I buy coriander from hism for my Java sparrows , they eat  wet sprouts too.

There are now a very few Bhaiyyas left in the bazar you could count them on your fingers , most of them switched trades , some of them passed away..

They are reconcilable , dont argue , live their lives without getting in anyone's way..and mind you Bandra Bazar is one of the most neglected filthiest municipal markets , it has seen good days in the past now it is languishing like a leper in pain.

The Bhaiyyas and the Marathi manoos have a great equation here most of them speak fluent Marathi and adhere to the local Marathi culture .

Now these are the heroes of my picture posts , I shoot simple pictures and tell you stories of their austerity simplicity and integrity.. once they may have been swayed by the Congress hand but now they have moved away towards a saffron path , the people they voted for in three elections have doe nothing for them , they are a pitiable site they are aging and the structures are aging the surroundings have gone to seed.

And my blogs are apolitical feedback for those who are like the 3 Gandhian monkeys .. they dont know what is happening around them.

Our local representatives dont give a shit but than the drifting away or the nonexistent evaluation of the Muslim vote will have to be read more judiciously now .. and elections are just two months away..

Most of the Muslims with problems now will be found crowded near Advocate Ashish Shelars BJP Bandra Reclamation office simple because he delivers and is sincere .

And these are stray thoughts that are born out of a picture I shot without rhyme or reason,, and street photography is the tool to record decipher the body language of dead lost souls caught in the vortex of unliving.