Saturday, May 8, 2010

Its Tough Being a Muslim Beggar Child

125,198 items / 890,284 views

She and her mother come to my workspace every Thursday, I give them money and take a few pictures , the little one like being photographed..through my picture she gets to see the world free .Whats her future , well future is shy state of ones mind , it has hidden beneath the next toadstool..

She likes me and stands outside the doors of my shop , she knows I am the only guy who takes her picture and through my picture I give her respect, respect for being so small and taking up a selfless job of begging assisting her mother diligently.

And I meet them , or beggars like them , they meet me on the crossroads of the path of my camera.,,they are my subjects I shoot their life on the streets in available light , and I show you what others are too shy to show..that pain is universal, beyond the scathing realm of religiosity.

A normal beggar does not evoke such feelings like the Muslim women beggar and her child..I dont sell my pictures so you cant accuse me of profiteering through pain..

And for once just look deep in to the beggar childs eye ..and hold your vision , you will see my culture , you will see bombs demolished mosques , you will see suicide bombers you will see not one but a million Kasab..and within her eyes you will see sectarian strife, you will see collective eunuch silence you will see the clergy with a mouth gagged ,.. you will see so much and much more provided you see as I do..and you dont need a camera too..

So this is what I saw and I share it with you ..yes a child's eyes are windows of Gods soul too..



Its tough being a Muslim beggar child and carrying the heritage of pain for over 1400 years..

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Recycled Pain Nobody Buys

125,193 items / 890,051 views

I was bringing Aditya Raj Kapoor son of Mr Shammi Kapoor Saab to my house I wanted Marziya to meet him , Marziya is my two year old grand daughter who has touched a few stars like Salman Khan and Mr Rajesh Khanna.. and Marziya loves all twinkling stars ..should suffice at this stage ..

I saw this man while seated in Adityas car , so the moment we approached my home I dragged him with me and shot two frames ..

This is life on the streets of pain and this poem is for Mr Shammi Kapoor Saab whose fan I am and never missed his films when I was young..

capsized
on an island of despair
nonchalant a nobody
on the streets of pain
he lies recycled pain
nobody wants to buy
simply because
you get it free
in great supply
veiled in a tear
or a sigh
broken wings
that were never
destined
to fly
if on earth
pain remorse
born to die
of what use
building
mansions
in heaven
up above
in the sky
rights of admission
reserved
for
the poor the needy
the down trodden
says the board
access denied
heaven and hell
a split open wide
between
man and god
god and man
lies a great divide

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I Shoot Happiness Overflowing a Girls Hands

125,192 items / 889,980 views

apne hathon ki lakiron
ko chupaya hai mehndi se
apni kismet ki lakiron
ko sajaya hai mehndi se
pyar aur mohabaat
ka rang basaya hai
mehndi se

I shot this on my way home and it belongs to a young slum child, she had decorated her hands with henna or mehndi , as she was going for a friends wedding,.

And I shot this hurriedly not realizing the shadow play at that time and it says so much , and I could write this as an English poem , but I would not be happy translating her moment of happiness , it would be another few years before she gets married..her legs in the picture add to the story of life's poetry..

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Falling In Love With The Wrong Woman

125,191 items / 889,871 views

the knock out punch
came out of the blue
it was the hard kick
on my family jewels
bruised black and blued
although i have deleted
you from my fucked
consciousness
i still cant get over you
falling in love
with the wrong woman
i was fucked and screwed
i saw her in the
mirror of my mind
totally nude
aesthetic poetic
sensual her form
over and over
i viewed
being short
sighted
i did not realize
the woman
i loved was
a transvestite
to delude
barefeet
bareshoed
a woman
i had wooed
chatted
argued
venom
she had
spewed
falling
in love
blind folded
a seminal
sorrow
unglued
love online
phased
booked
upset
stomach
bad food

i swear never
to fall i n love
fucked dude

a transvestites tale
i wont conclude

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Friday, May 7, 2010

A Blogger And His Hijra Muse

the hijra muse
kicked out of bombay
gymkhana
always in the news
when she gets mad
she loses her fuse
she will clap her hands
fuck heaven hell abuse
a war without any truce
valiantly her point
she fights and argues
a barefeet blogger
poetizing the soul
of his hijra guru
hijras are human
its true only
sanctimonious
society has no clue
considers the hijra
a stigma a taboo
racially profiled
at every given venue
one day the hijras
will rule the world
man woman
kissing
the feet
of the hijras
statue


flickr
the pictorial soul of yahoo

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I Pimp My Hijra Blogs at Facebook

it gets me
lots of hits
lots of comments
lots of friends
but no money
in return
causing my wife
a lot of heartburn
she says driving
a point home
with a lot of concern
blogging flogging
what have you earned
its time hijra photography
you start to unlearn
make some money
out of turn a pot
that is empty
let it churn
dont be stupid
adamant
stubborn
be wise
at someone else s
expense
do learn
let not your blog
your reality govern
letting off steam
the topic
for the time being
she adjourned
the chappati like
my multi colored ass
on the tava
had burned

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I Need Help and Advise

I need your help I wanted to know if you are connected with someone who would publish my hijra blogs pictures and poetry ,..any suggestion or advise would be highly appreciated..

Firoze Shakir

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