Sudip Das

Sudip Das Poems

We; the people of Bangladesh are sold.
The puppet sold our teen-
Youth-
Student-
...

Vagabond like me, you find everywhere in Bangladesh
I have nothing to do, except punk thought and restless
And now I found a crow in the street, -
O crow, do you know the definition of revolution?
...

Oh boy, now you will see the jugglery
Ana Ana Ana
Don't withdraw your attention, an elephant flies in the blue sky.
Ana Ana Ana
...

"You are Hindu and you cast your vote for a fixed political party
You wanna know, all of you are burden for us"- guess the comment
Or ask -who says that? A fox or a hyena? In canvas it was a student.
Don't you think, the ghost of liberation war rises from revolution?
...

One day we will meet together, -in the avenue or a rally
Blooming emotion will create a common goal- "Joy bangla"

One day we will meet together in front of the skeleton
...

Hegemony


Cover me ok
...

Oh there is no lie
The burning temple
The beaten people
All are bogus,
...

Who wants to muzzle your voice
Yet, to know,
Who burns your house
Yet, to know,
...

Let us guess
Who you are?
The whisper identifies you, as mobster.
...

Though the dark mask masking our face
It means nothing to our race.

Yes, we are Bengali: Bangladeshi
...

The heart worming slogan, -'Who you are?
Who we are?
Collaborator
Collaborator'.
...

12.

The blue sky
A shower of rain,
Along with a pack of assess
Makes one's heart bleeding
...

Wake up, wake up
My friends
Don't turn the stone.
Motherland needs you
...

Our law and order is very much good
Says who?
The banned terrorist outfit.
The teachers are in good shape
...

We are observing fire around us
And
"All quiet in the western front".
You see, very cute nation, - we are!
...

The fox, who was believer of god, told the hen-
'You know
There was no liberation war in 1971,
The event was created by media.
...

You know, issue hunts you,
Narrative makes your belief.
So many issues here
So many narratives there
...

Sudip Das Biography

I am Bangladeshi. Occupation- An Agriculture consultant. Married and having two daughters.)

The Best Poem Of 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.

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