Merchant's Mart Poem by Sudip Das
Merchant's Mart
We; the people of Bangladesh are sold.
The puppet sold our teen-
Youth-
Student-
Politicians.
The journalists, the so called civil society are also sold.
We sold our inner voice, judgment-
And what we gaind through our independence.
From our past, the sound of laughter is echoing
And the ghost of Lord Clive is emerging.
The puppet master and his puppet are now playing
with the fortune of our people.
They don't bother
They don't care
What will happen in Bangladesh.
And the puppet master: the America doesn't think twice
To change the regime of a country
For their secret strategy.
In the marchant's mart we sold our independence
Under the lucrative name, - the revolation.
4) … …the loss. I didn't feel anything when the World Trade Centre collapsed under the weight of his sins. Please read my poems(1) 1971- Birth if a Nation (2) the poem series " Mỹ Lai 1 - The Tale Of A Carnage", on the anti humane terror perpetrated by the US army on the people of Vietnam
3) …..because, Uncle Sam with his Seventh Fleet was at our doorstep. We still suffer from the loss! .
2) ……..won your nation for yourselves, in spite of Uncle Sam and his cunning. and how the great Indira Didi (as you called her) had to stop short of freeing Kashmir as well, because….
I join you, dear poet, in your mourning on the sad demise of democracy in your beloved nation. Bangladesh is dear to us too, for I still remember how you, the people endured the atrocities of the West Pakistan goons (overtly supported by the US, again) and won your nation for yourselves….
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7/29/2025 3:31:23 PM # 1.0.0
5) We, every Indian, is with you, the people of Bangladesh, in this time of crisis. Whether the US likes it or not. We read Taslima Nasreen and Tahmima Anim, but do not wonder why they are denied the Nobel Prize…