অস্তিত্বের সংকটে বাংলাদেশের সুয়েজ খাল - The Suez Canal of Bangladesh: A Dying Waterway in Bikrampur

Описание: বাংলাদেশের সুয়েজ খাল হিসেবে খ্যাত মুন্সীগঞ্জ বিক্রমপুরের তালতলা-গৌরগঞ্জ খাল আজ অস্তিত্বের সংকটে। একসময় এই খাল ছিল দক্ষিণ-পশ্চিমাঞ্চলের নৌবাণিজ্যের মহাসড়ক, যেখানে স্টিমার, লঞ্চ ও নৌকার যাতায়াত ছিল নিয়মিত। আজ নাব্য সংকটে বন্ধ হয়ে গেছে পানির প্রবাহ, কৃষি হারাচ্ছে উর্বরতা, বাড়ছে নদীভাঙন।
এই ভিডিওতে জানুন—
✔ বাংলাদেশের সুয়েজ খালের ইতিহাস ও গুরুত্ব
✔ কেন শুকিয়ে যাচ্ছে নদী ও খাল
✔ কৃষি, পরিবেশ ও মানুষের জীবনে এর প্রভাব
✔ স্থানীয়দের আশা—খাল খননের মাধ্যমে ফিরে আসুক স্রোতের জীবন

👉 খাল বাঁচলে প্রাণ বাঁচবে—এটাই বিক্রমপুরের মানুষের দাবি।
The Suez Canal of Bangladesh: A Waterway on the Brink of Extinction

Once celebrated as the “Suez Canal of Bangladesh,” the Talatola-Gaurganj canal of Munshiganj’s Bikrampur region now lies like a forgotten body—its chest scarred with dry sandbars and parched beds. A waterway that once carried sails of boats and echoed with the whistles of steamers has today become so lifeless that even a small dinghy struggles to move. Choked with silt and crippled by lost navigability, the canal has stopped flowing, and with it, the lifeline of an entire community has grown silent.

Munshiganj-Bikrampur was born at the confluence of four mighty rivers—Padma, Meghna, Dhaleshwari, and Ichhamati. With a web of rivers and canals, it was once revered as a sacred, river-blessed land. During the monsoon, the great Arial Beel stretched across 13,000 acres, resembling a sea, while in winter, the same land turned into vast golden fields of crops. The economy, culture, and heartbeat of this land once pulsed with the rhythm of rivers and canals. Now, that rhythm is fading.

The Talatola-Gaurganj-Dohori canal was once the highway of inland trade in the southwest. From Faridpur, Barisal, and Kushtia, cargo-laden boats would glide along its waters straight to Dhaka. The ghats bustled with people, market boats thrived, and bullock carts offloaded harvests. Today, these scenes survive only in the memories of the elders. In the dry season, the canal bed cracks open like a desert floor, and in the rains, even when boats float, the tide no longer rises with force. The drying of the canal has inflicted wounds deeper than lost waterways. Fertile lands now wither without silt. Farmers struggle with irrigation. “We can’t water our potato fields anymore,” laments an elderly farmer by the canal. “If the canal lives, crops will live, and so will people.” His words carry the sighs of a whole generation.
And it is not just agriculture—the looming threat of erosion haunts the people of Dohori and Bormokam. With the canal mouth silted up and its natural current blocked, it has lost the strength to resist the advancing Padma. Families live in constant fear, waiting for the day when the river’s waves will devour their homes. Yet buried within their anxiety is hope—that one day, the canal will be dredged, the current will return, and the canal will once again stand firm against the Padma’s rage.
Once, the Dhaleshwari and Ichhamati rivers breathed life into this canal. Today, they too are dying. Abandoned ghats stand silent, where once steamers and launches arrived day and night. What remains is silence, haunted by the noise of memory.
Yet the people of Bikrampur have not given up hope. From elders to the youth, their voices rise in unison: the canal must be restored. If the current flows again, boats will return, crops will flourish, and the dread of erosion will subside.
The Suez Canal of Bangladesh may today stand still and lifeless, but its story continues to flow across the heart of riverine Bengal. The people’s prayer is simple yet profound: let the canal live again, so that with its currents return the laughter of the villages, the song of harvests, and the eternal rhythm of life shaped by rivers.