Friday, June 22, 2012
Waqt...
Friday, June 15, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
Ek Pooranaa Album...
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 11-06-12
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Aaj ki raat...
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 07-06-12 @ 2am
Monday, May 28, 2012
Why do I write?
I have been wanting to write this post for sometime now, but never got around to it, as I was busy writing a script of a full length feature.
As one of my rationalist friends cautioned that I might be falling into the Sudhir Kakar's "Dev D" trap of first letting people go from my life, and then chasing them through their memories and other paraphernalia. Someone reading my last few poetry would draw the same conclusion. Someone went so far to warn me in not walling in this tub of self pity.
Here is my side of the story...
I am a writer and a chronicler of times we live. I dont do it to glorify myself or it gives me some high. I dont get paid to re-visit my past, its part of my DNA. Its who I am.
For example, Its been 14 years but am still carrying the wailing sound of a woman who was crying heart out on the road as she walked past me by the sea. I was standing there with a girl friend watching the sun go down. To this day, I dont remember anything that girl friend said or what we discussed, but I am still carrying that fleeting moment of someone's wailing sound. I still think about that woman like who was she?, what had happened to her? Why was she crying so uncontrollably on a busy sea side road? Where is she now? Alive or dead? Who made her cry?
As I grow old and wiser, my subjects grow as well and so my thoughts about them keep changing. I dont let go of them....they walk with me.
I can offer many more examples from my encounters with people even for a short amount of time. Folks dont notice, but I take away a lot from my encounters with them. Its part of the deal.
I am not alone in this, I think all artistes think alike, be it painters, actors or poets. We care for others deeply irrespective of cast, creed, gender, religion, nationality or sexual origination. We enjoy people. We identify with their moments of success, failure, tragedy and euphoria.
So, friends, relax! There is no cause for an alarm. I have a lot of times at hands these days.
Thats all!!
PS: The above pictures is from the outside gate of Rani Jhansi's Fort in Jhansi, Uttar Pardesh. This jebroni was selling his goods in 36 degree heat. From I could gather, his total inventory cost must be around Rs 500. How much you think he earns per day? Do you agree that he must be having a family to feed? Where does he go for lunch? What about going to the bathroom and other needs?
While other visitors to the fort might have taken other scenes worth recording, in my mind this was the moment of reckoning. Compare this jebroni's day earning of Rs 50 to the earnings of intelligent folks at JP Morgan and Morgan Stanley. Compare his intention of keeping his family safe and healthy with those that brought the great depression and bunch of unnecessary wars on us. While he gets no mention anywhere for running this simple business, others hog lime lights of NY Times and Wall Street Journals for squandering the wealth of millions of shareholders, for looting pensioners out of their retirement money.....you get the idea!
The world is a terrible place at times, in spite of having some great minds on earth. Why? Because those great minds dont feel for others. The day we start "feeling what other fellow travelers" going through, the wars would end, bombs would stop dropping on innocnet women and children in the middle of the night, justice would prevail and someone higher up would start smiling at his own creation.
We will get there one day, Inshallah!!
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Un dino...
Aaj Kal office Se Wapsi par
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Be-Khwaabi....
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Shukriya...
Friday, April 20, 2012
Tanhaa Shaam aur Dhalte Saaye...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Ration Card...
Kaat diya gya tha
Par ye bhi Sach hai
Jo Khoon Bana tha
Dil ki Sharyano main Raqs hai Jaari
Zahan ke Gheriyon se Wohi Ayaan hai
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Har Manzar Tumhen Talash karta hai...
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, April 5th, 2012
Monday, February 06, 2012
Itna Hi Sath tha....
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
28/11
Kaise Ye Bin Bataye chale aate hain?
Tawajjah = Attention, Salgirah = Anniversary
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Tumhari Aakhri Araam Gaah...
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Ye batla do...
Badalna Laazim hai
Naye Rishton se wafa ke liye
Halke dhaani, Aasmani rang
Monday, August 01, 2011
Ramzan in Atlanta
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Yaaden...

Jab Khuda kisi par khush hota hai to use Mahobbat ataa karta hai. Tumhen woh Atiya mila hai jo bahut kam insano ko milta hai. Aise halaat main jab ke tumhen is ki zara bhi tawakko na thi - tumhen mahobbat mili. Aur phir kaisi piyari ladki ki masoom mahobbat!
Halaat par tumhara kaboo nahi. Waqt ke sel ko tum nahi rok sakte - TUM DONO KO JUDA HONA THA!
Aise dil - aawez lamhe Lafaani hote hain aur mit jaate hain, lekin un ki yaaden reh jaati hain. Aur ye yaad zindagi ke udaas lamhon ko jagmagati hain-
Kaisa Qaif aawar khyaal hai ke kabhi tumhen ek bholi bhali mukhlis ladki ne chaha tha aur shaid ab bhi duniya ke kisi goshe main woh tumhen yaad kar leti hai - Kitni haseen yaad hai -
Sab kuch fanaa ho jataa hai - Yaaden Fana nahi hotin - Yaaden Zindagi banti hain...
(From Himakten by Shafiq-ur-Rehman)
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Help is on the way....
I was touched by her gesture. Earlier the same friend Shagufta Farouqui had offered Rs 10,000 which I refused. The reason being I am interested more in developing a genuine chain or a grass root movement than taking quick helps from my buddies.
There are so many Parveens out there. You can count on meeting hundreds of Parveenss in every city and every nook and corner of India. It will not be humanly possible to find and each and every one of them due to constraints on resources. What we need is a group of like minded people so that we can work on politicians to enforce minimum wage in India.
The government needs to step up to the plate to enforce child labor laws on the books and to provide education and job opportunities to these kids specially girls that have traditionally been left behind for thousands of years.
I am looking forward to being a part of that chain of people that can help transform the big picture as well.
I will report more donations as they come.
Enjoy the ride!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Parveen...

Name: Parveen, age 19, Education: school dropout
Father: Paased away when she was 10, Mother: Lost her senses
Brother: a retard, Occupation: Embroidery worker since age 10.
Earnings: Rs 50 a day ($1.15 a day). I repeat $1.15 a day.
Her day starts at 6:30 as makes breakfast and lunch for her brother and mom and then she goes off to work. She comes home, cooks dinner and feeds them before calling it a night. This is every day, 365 days a year rain or sunshine.
I wonder what makes her get up in the morning each day? Knowing well that it will be another day when she would not be able to even communicate with her mother or brother.
I wonder why she is not jumping off a bridge or into a river to end this un-ending tragedy? Living with two half dead relatives cant be fun.
And I wonder why she is at least not bitter about life and its gruesome treatment of her? Why she never complains? What makes her smile even in these circumstances? What dream she cherishes, if any?
Her optimism and confidence inspires me as I begin my day.
Her story will inspire you too as you end a bad day at Emmanuel’s or at the nearest watering hole with bud light and a bunch of friends by your side.
Yet, your story will not help her in any way nor she is aware of your existence. She is not even aware that I am writing about her on the internet or what the hell internet stands for.
So people, while you may be having a bad day, someone 9000 miles away is having a bad life, for no fault of hers. Yet, she is keeping her chins up and her head high as she struggles in this life – all alone.
Have a good one!
Ps: I would be glad to be a conduit if someone wants to help her in any way.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Saturday, October 09, 2010
Rains outside a mumbai local
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
The class act...

Thursday, March 25, 2010
Empty Room
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Dukh sabhi ka...
Name: Sukhi Patel, Age: 52, Profession: Farmer, Married with no kids.
As I stood by the Ganges, watching his body consumed by fire, I kept asking all kinds of questions to his relatives and friends. They responded with courtesy, but I could see that they were confused about my relation with him. I stood out separate. They knew that I am not one of them.
Answers I got to my questions helped me construct his life. Brought up a series of images.
Sukhi Patel's only son died of an accident days before he was to get married. Sukhi was never the same again. He took to drinking and now - died of kidney failure.
This is how it mostly ends in small towns and villages.
I thought about his wife and wondered what would happen to her and how she would survive with no child to look after her. I wondered what she must be thinking having gone thru the rituals of breaking bangles, removing sindoor and changing to white. After having lost her son a while back.
I wondered where would he be, had his son not been killed in that accident. I wondered how he might have felt when he had showed up at the same Ganges with the asthiyan of his only son.
I stood there for an hour. Alone. My mind racing in all directions., thinking of anything and everything Sukhi Patel had experienced - like the first crops at his farm, the first look at his wife and how he must have reacted when he found out his wife had delivered a baby boy. What were his dreams for himself and his family. What did he think about world affairs if he ever did, and what was his favorite sport? What kind of movies did he see and who was his favorite heroine?
And then a thought occurred to me.
When I was thinking so much about a stranger whose existence I had no clue till about an hour ago...
What was his "creator" thinking about when Sukhi Patel's kidneys failed?
ps: As I was leaving, his friend asked me who I was and whether I had known Sukhi Patel. I told him that I just happened to be at the Ghat, stopped by to see a cremation, and did not know him at all.
Magar, Main us ke dukh ko jantaa hoon....
Sukh sab ka alag alag ho sakta hai. Dukh sabhi ka ek hai.





























