A Remarkable Journey Poem by Sumit Ganguly

A whirlwind takes me past the present time,
the speed and roll make my senses blind,
do I move backward or forward?
Sky is blue uniformly.

O my God, I am on a street in France,
fallen trees and boulders are corpses and severed heads,
masses raise the slogan 'Viva la revolution',
they rush past me in youthful fury
to witness the severed head of Marie Antoinette
in the flooded bed of guillotine.

I regain senses as a sweet voice asks at Madame Tussaud's,
'How do you like the wax-head of Queen Antoinette?