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Patrick Kennon Jul 2017
Marathi Muslims
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Marathi Muslim
मराठी मुस्लिम
Regions with significant populations
• India • Pakistan • United Kingdom • Canada
Languages
• Marathi • Urdu • Hindi• Varhadi• Khandeshi
Religion
• Allah-green.svg Sunni, Shia, Shia Ismaili
Related ethnic groups
• Marathi people • Muhajirs • Arabs • Persians • Pakistani people• Pashtuns • Jats • Khoja • Lohanas
The term Marathi Muslims is usually used to signify Marathi Muslims from the state of Maharashtra in North-western coast of India, who speak Marathi as a mother-tongue (first language) and follows certain customs different from the rest of Indian Muslims. Marathi Muslims are very prominent in industry and medium-sized businesses. Many members of this community migrated to Pakistan in 1947 and have settled in Karachi and Sindh, contributing greatly to the general welfare and economy of Pakistan.

According to 2001 Indian census,[1] There were 10,270,485 Muslims in Maharashtra and constituted 10.60% of the state.

Marathi Muslims belong mostly to the Sufi tradition. Visiting the tombs of Sufi saints is very important to this community.

See also[edit]
Islam in India
External links[edit]
Marathi Muslims
60% Muslims in Maharashtra live below poverty line
References[edit]
Jump up ^ Indian Census 2001 – Religion[permanent dead link]
Jasraj Sangani Feb 2016
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….

Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy

There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska

From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings

Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!

Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart

Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”

From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.

Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful

Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
Perig3e Jan 2011
To speak all these languages:
Assamese, Bengali, Bodo,
Chhattisgarhi, Dogri , Garo -

Oh, to be able to tongue, "Love"
in Gajarati, Hini, Kannada, Kashmiri,
Khasi,  Kokborok, Konkani -

Or lip, "Desire" in
Maithili,  Malayalam,  Manipuri,  Marathi,  Mizo,  Nepali -

Or whisper, "Good night, Dear"
in Oriya, Punjabi,  Sanskrit,
Santali,  Sindhi, Telugu, Tamil, or Urdu.
All rights reserved by the author.
Àŧùl Jan 2016
Oh Marathi-Sindhi beauty,
I did not know that you'd intrude,
Deep in my heart & mind.

Your looks are elfin gorgeous,
I am downright stumped,
Of your positive attitude I'm a fan.

Your daily schedule is admirable,
Not many youngsters are organized,
And the majority roam aimlessly.

I so admire that you teach kids,
I see responsibility in your eyes,
Not many care for their families.

How you manage tuning the strings,
Happy & content you are always,
You smile how so ever be the things.

From you the world will learn,
Jealous from the respect you earn,
To be like you they will yearn.

So yes, the respect grows deep,
Down at the bottom of my heart,
As water to roots it will seep.
The title in Marathi means 'I'm missing you'.
And this one is for my special friend Bhumi.

My HP Poem #995
©Atul Kaushal
Ashwin Kumar Mar 2023
This incident happened more than five years ago
It was a Tuesday
And I'd gone to office as usual
Which involved a long commute
From Powai to Lower Parel
By the famous Mumbai locals
A typically exhausting commute
Made worse by the fact that it was the month of August
And therefore I had to deal with the rains as well
Something seemed to be off
As far as that particular day was concerned
Quite a few of my candidates
Were not responding to my calls
And what was worse
Was the fact that it was raining cats and dogs
In fact, my boss, who was on the way to office
Got stuck somewhere in between
And ultimately gave up the ghost
Deciding to work from home instead!!
He also instructed me and my colleague to leave office
As soon as we were done with all our critical work
Since we both had brought our lunch
We decided to leave after eating
However, our troubles for the day
Were just about to begin
It was raining heavier than ever
Just as we left office
Accompanied by an acquaintance
Trains were not running on the Western line
Thus, we were forced to walk all the way to Currey Road
Instead of Lower Parel, which was much nearer
Meanwhile, my colleague, who was residing in Girgaum
Decided to take a taxi home
While our acquaintance gave me company
Since his home was near Sion
Which falls on the Central line
And is on the way to Vikhroli
Where I was supposed to get down
However, just as we entered Currey Road station
The enormity of the situation
Struck us with the force of a bullet
There was a sea of people
And a rope was placed in the middle of the platform
In order to control the crowd
On the left side of the platform, there was a local
Which was apparently stuck there for quite some time
And on the right, the track was heavily waterlogged
All these were ominous signs
That something was seriously wrong
Well, we boarded the local
And were lucky to get seats
It was a silver lining
In the darkness that was about to follow
The train was in no hurry to depart
Whenever I heard the sound of its motors
My heart would leap with a mixture of joy and relief
Since it seemed to indicate that we would start soon
However, it didn't take me long to realise
That all my hopes had been dashed
The fact was that the motors had to be switched on and off
Every now and then
Just in order to keep the engine running
In the middle of all the chaos caused by the rains
Yes, the situation was so chaotic
That a few reporters had a field day
Meanwhile, I checked in on my colleague
And his feeble voice told its own story
He had to walk all the way
From Mumbai Central, where the taxi was forced to drop him
Till his home in Girgaum!!
Moreover, our acquaintance invited me to walk with him till Sion
So that we could have an adventure!!
However, I was in absolutely no mood for such stuff
As all I wanted, was to reach home in one piece
No matter how long it took
However, the hours slowly tricked by
And the local showed absolutely no signs of moving
Again though, there was a silver lining
In the middle of all this darkness
A Marathi NGO magnificently rose to the occasion
And started distributing packets of food to the stranded passengers
It was truly like a godsend
And helped me keep my wits about
As afternoon turned to evening
And evening to night
While the water on the right side track
Was rising higher and higher
And it soon dawned on me
That the unthinkable was about to happen
That is, I had no choice
But to spend the night at Currey Road station!!!
Yes, it was an unpleasant situation indeed
But I decided to face it anyway
Since the station was a safe place after all
And as we all know
One is always safer in a crowd
Of course, sleeping wasn't going to be an easy task
I tried various positions
Each more uncomfortable than the other
Before finally dropping off to sleep
More out of sheer exhaustion than anything else
When I eventually woke up
Things were slowly limping back to normal
Trains had started moving in the opposite direction
Eventually we departed as well
Though at a snail's pace
And had a few unscheduled stops on the way
When we reached Sion, there came the next twist in the tale
We were stuck for one and a half hours
And I began to fear
That history would repeat itself
However, God was merciful enough
To ensure that it didn't happen
In fact, after we crossed Kurla
We resumed our usual pace
And reached Vikhroli in almost no time
I was home by around 11 am
And was greeted by my family
Who were thoroughly relieved
And also full of praise
Since I had maintained my cool
In such a difficult and unforeseen situation
Ultimately, it had turned out to be an adventure worth reliving
Even if not the kind of adventure
That the acquaintance had embarked upon
And wanted me to be part of
Poem about an adventure involving the Mumbai rains and Mumbai locals; which happened on Tuesday 29th August 2017.
A HERD OF LEGENDS


always in the background
of my mind I am
hearing

listening to
the
of Arun's voice

speaking to me
in best Kolatkarese
as I ride

his KALA GHODA
to the outskirts of
JEJURI

and there dismount
walking barefoot
into the town

of his mind
bowing before
his words

this here
this now
drinking his voice

thirstily down
to the very last sound
marking each syllable with turmeric

offering the ashes
of anything I can say
I the humble havildar

to the temple
of your thought
until you take a final drag

from a half bent charminar
flick it from fingers
laugh...tell me to. .
.
"****** off! Go on...
and make
a poem of your own!"



Going to India for the Delhi Poetry Festival....and delving around in all things Indian and the poetry therefof who should I encounter first but the unique voice of Mr. Kolatkar...at once I was in love with his thoughts and decided to elope with his mind. He was by far and away my favourite Indian poet but now he has become my favourite poet. One of the unexpected gifts of going to Delhi to read poetry was to discover this genius hiding in full view! Hopefully the Bloodaxe COLLECTED will propagate him even more in the West and he will become acknowledged as the master he undoubtedly is. He reigns in my mind...long may he reign. Read JEJURI and was completely blown away by his honesty and wit and the lovely wry turn of his mind. How had I lived before without him!




I'LL STILL BRING YOU FLOWERS
( a zendu for Arun Kolatkar )

I listen to you
. . .just be. . .
you escape

the well known photo
the droopy lids
the droopy moustache

caught in a cafe
by the clock
and come alive

in this dimly shot video
the language
flows around me

( Hindi...Marathi?)
like a rock in a river
I listen to

the water's language
as it breaks
and moves around me

the cancer
eats you
I listen

to the language of your smile
the language
of your laughter

listen
to you
. . .just be
Talking about his good friend Balwantbua, the old bajhan singer and racontuer who features in many of CHIRIMIRI's poems, Kolatkar could be describing his own poetic process...
"...everything he knew about life had come to him at first hand: from direct observation:  he didn't talk about the great events of this century...but about micro-event or non-events that make up his life - miniature comedies, adventures, misadventures, people he knew, the women in his life - with a sharp eye for absurdities inherent in situations and the contradictions in human behaviour, looking around him from street level, with his unique sense of humour which equips him with a sort of X-ray vision..."
Let's hope someone takes it into their head to publish his BALWANTBUA....still in a manuscript of nearly 1200 pages!

I just love this as an answer.....
Why did you take 10 years to complete your painting course at the J.J. School of Art?
I was doing other things.
What?
Painting.
From an interview with GOWRI RAMNARAYAN back in 2004 in THE HINDIU

— The End —