Lalbagh Cha Raja Purchya Varshi Laokar Ya

I leave now to pay my last tribute to the Lord of the Earth Water And Skies
His Home At Lalbagh His Earthly Paradise  ,,Removing Obstacles guarding you
with his Cosmic Eye ,, Beloved Raja Farewell Good Bye

Kurbani Of Mastan The Wise Goat Bandra Bazar Road

Media Manipulated Eid Hugging Pictures And ‪#‎MinaStampede‬

You cant blame media , media wants to give the Muslims the ambiance of Eid ,,as it has been coming down the ages from time immemorial two cute kids lovingly hugging each other and the poor Muslims love it ,, it is better than seeing bodies  piled one upon the other at Mecca and that too is an Eid picture thanks to Saudi monarchy's least respect for human lives , first the crane accident than came this huge one a great blow on the soul of humanity ,, and the Saudis are unapologetic , instead they are blaming the Hajis .. the pilgrims , this is their way of passing the buck and now they will give humongous compensation to the dead and injured shut the mouths of dissent .
Barring Iran no Muslim country will blame them for their atrocious attitude towards safety and preventive measures ,,and for some  whose relatives kith kin died in this tragedy this is a Black Eid ,, uncalled for deaths and unnecessary deaths ,,

Now the blame game has started and I pray for the injured may they recover speedily and may the souls of the dead Rest In Peace ,,

I think its time the Saudi authorities wake up from their slumber ..because negligence is nothing short of forced murder ,,this is is a cruel way of going  unprepared to Jannah .

And so sometimes even media manipulated Eid Hugging pictures act as a balm.. in such hard times in the Muslim world.

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 ,,