Monday, March 22, 2010

The Hijra and the Missing Cunt

the hijra tired
after a fruitless
leather hunt
in the circle
of confusion
searching
for the elusive
exclusive
reclusive
missing cunt
as a poem
a cry
a sigh
that might
sound
very blunt
a hijra
half man
half woman
androgynous
amorphous
anomaly
via castration
via penectomy
the unknown hole
from its casement
of a new awakening
tried to confront
cursed forever
more beautiful
but wont get
pregnant
a missing womb
of misfortune
homeless
vacant

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I Tried but I Failed

the hot
burning
furnace
of her desire
i tried
to touch it
but i failed
on the mound
of her Venus
a part
of me nailed
it screamed
it wailed
cursing the day
this pussy
it tailed
poetic moment
on the soul
of her privacy
he impaled
half outside
half within
cosmically
jailed
curtailed
forever
fucked
blackmailed
a cybernetic
curiosity
a lovers tale
luckily
on my facebook
friends list
she is a missing
thumbnail

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Fucked Forever

his woman
has runaway
again causing him
eternal pain fucking
his happiness
her heart his brain
caught on a road
of despair between
the gutter and the drain
he curses the day
he fell in love with her
his fucked poetic
dilemma his fucked
pea brain
although
he has deleted
her from
his fucked
consciousness
she hounds stalks him
driving him cosmically
insane many a times
he thought
of slitting
his wrists
giving head to a
running train
throwing himself
from the 45 floor
but the permission
for the terrace key
he could
not obtain
memories
that lash
his souls
bleeding
membrane
one mans loss
is another mans gain
hiss balls manacled to
misfortune his fucked
fate enchained
blow after blow
on his distempered ass
she rained

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Slumdog Caterers of Bandra

There are some big names doing great business supplying food for parties events and feast days working out from the slums of Bandra , the food you see being made ready is for a small function at our house the caterer Ikbal , we had ordered chicken birryani , he is a bit expensive than the rest of the caterers around Bandra West , but his food is delicious well cooked , he mostly caters to the Agha Khani Jamat , rich Shias and private parties.

Even some restaurants get their biryani done by him.. as he is on my way to work I have a good equation with him.


Though I consider my wife and my daughter in laws far better cooks, they make fabulous stuff, my elder daughter in law from Lucknow s good and her Jackfruit curry masala is out of this world.

My younger daughter in law one makes fusion food and hails from Mumbai so we have a spectrum of cuisine at our house.She is good with Hyderabadi cuisine too...her khichda is the best and even the paya curry that she makes sometimes.

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Loban Man of Bandra

His job is is to smoke out evil from your shop your house and your soul..
purify you cleanse you make you whole ...using loban and charcoal
held delicately in a metal bowl wandering the streets of despair
the loban man on stroll..for a few coins you give him
he is on gods payroll...peace hope harmony his spiritual goal....

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Destiny of a Dumb Door

I have a fascination for closed doors, doors that pretended to be closed or locked but were always unlatched from within.. doors that defied logic , doors that were part of mans destiny..mans door was always through a woman's heart sometimes shut sometimes open..another door a woman's cavernous tunnel that led to a world beyond a world we lived , a love trap door that sucked your soul and your pole within its goal..two parts unevenly opened became whole..a woman's brain has no door as she has nothing to store , guilt betrayal lust denial no more ...a blog goddess or a whore..a woman is purely a door at the core..

Woman's door the first time satin shimmering curtains that man tore man so fucked cocksure , gliding in gliding out within its pulpy contour, walls of softness sucking in the steamy liquid of love that you poured..that after nine months destroyed her art decor..a bit of you , even a bit of someone else from her door fell of the shore ..love that was once a poem regressed to a domestic chore..no more what it was once before. unpoetically she said it was on the ladies bike double seat her hymen tore..

inspired by and dedicated to manish geakwad...in hymeneal humility

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Sweety and Marziya

My dear friend Ramesh Garud stays close to my house I shoot his house Ganpati every year , he was quite depressed for some time as time as his pet Alsatian had died , the animal was suffering from an incurable liver problem and his death hit the entire family.

There was sadness till he bought a new replacement Sweety, and every time I thought I would take Marziya to see Sweety it never happened.. till yesterday.

I finally got them together face to face as Sweety loves nibbling flesh Marziya was wary and scared too. but they got of on a good start and signed a bond of friendship, Lucky the Labrador has overgrown Marziya so this new friendship was important to keep Marziya attached to her surroundings and her extreme love for animals at Bandra Bazar Road.

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