Saturday, August 2, 2014

Ross Island Comments

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You can smell blood in the air
See billowing smokes of gunfire
Feel the fettered men that died there
From hunger disease and hard labor!
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Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Deepak Kumar Pattanayak 05 August 2014

A very poignant poem of bygone days of British era when Indian prisoners were subjected to inhuman sufferings and history is witness to, on such pillars of misfortunes gorgeous monuments have been built......very well composed...... Pradipjee.......thanks for sharing

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Valsa George 04 August 2014

It is over the battered flesh and bones of slaves, often ravishing monuments are built, anytime, everywhere! Think of the pyramids of Egypt, the Taj Mahal... the great wall of China...... They all have heart rending stories of forcibly surrendered souls to tell! A great write!

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