Author: rupali66

Artificial Intelligence

Do you know Siri, Cortana or Bixby can be of assistance
To set reminders or to look for misplaced earphones?
No, these are not the names of lovers or girlfriends.
These are some creations with artificial intelligence.

Have you heard about robotaxis that drive on their own?
Or shopped at stores without any checkout interaction?
All of these are not from the pages of science fiction.
These are the manifestations of artificial intelligence.

Yes, to create machines that interact like humans,
To provide them with a mechanism for making decisions,
To go beyond the edges that limit his own reasoning,
This is man on his journey with artificial intelligence.

What was just imagination in the times ancient
Is now evolving into reality in the name of solutions.
Scientists assure that it will never replace humans,
But will this child be the father of the bionic man?

A Storm

Waves towering as high as the skies,
Dark clouds crashing and thundering,
Forks of white lightning crackling,
Icy cold winds howling,
Whip-like rain lashing,
Boats floundering
In the sea-
A fierce
Storm.

PS: This poem is a nonet. It has 9 lines The first line has 9 syllables, the second has 8, and so on till the last line that has 1 syllable.

The Mirror Never Lies

‘Tis true that the mirror never lies.
‘Tis a logic that couldn’t be defied.
What you are is what you will see,
And this is for all things till infinity.

The mirror sees all and reflects all –
Beauty that appeals; scars that appall.
No color or curve can stay hidden
When tested in a mirror’s reflection.

The mirror is a window to the world
That ones own eyes couldn’t behold.
With every minute detail, it unfurls
A vision of the depths of the soul.

A mirror will never distort the truth
Even if it’s broken in tiny pieces, too.
In moments when delusions surround
The verity, in a mirror, can be found.

Why?

If reason would have ruled, there’d be no wars
What prompts men to maim and kill their brethren,
If not emotions like hatred, disdain, fear and anger?
Why don’t the cries and sufferings from times ancient
Lead us towards a peaceful life with each other?
Why do we trade reason to pacify these bitter emotions?

The Boon

Come fly with me to the silver moon –
This’ll no longer be wishful thinking.
It is a dream that will come true soon
Straight out of the pages of fiction.
Many nations may yearn for this boon,
But I’m sure the ones who will succeed
Will hail from my great motherland too.
And even the stars that keep twinkling,
To our conquests will not be immune.

PS: This is a Magic 9 poem. Rhyme scheme ABRACADABRA without the R, so ABACADABA. Also, 9 syllables in each line.

Deep Within

Deep within each one of us,
there lies a child so tender –
Bright-eyed and innocent,
curious and full of wonder.
O! Where’s the map to retrace
This long-forgotten treasure?

In Search of Freedom

In search of freedom, I consulted the vast ocean
With white-crested waves spreading into the horizon,
But it asked me to speak to the tall mountains
That limited its boundaries from all directions.

So, off I went and spoke to the mountains high.
They stood unmoving, reaching into the skies,
But the mountains said to ask the puffy clouds
That blocked them from view with their shrouds.

So, I ran on and asked the clouds floating by
They were parading in shades of grey and white,
But they all told me to question the gusty winds
Who often tossed them about to their whims.

So, I posed my query to the passing breeze
That was blowing freely among the green trees,
But it said to quiz the Sun shining blazingly,
For it’s direction was determined by the orb’s heat.

So, I quizzed the Sun with my squinting eyes,
As he was dazzling away like a ball of fire bright,
But he asked me to check with the Maker Himself,
For there were times when he too had to set.

So, I requested a reply from the Almighty Lord
As He sat in silence in the temple by the road.
He smiled at me kindly, and then finally, said
To ask the question to the thoughts in my head.

And, that was the moment it dawned on me
That freedom is really in what and how we think,
For those thoughts manifest into speech and actions,
And these, in turn, create societies and nations.

Go Slow

Why the panic?! Where’s the fire?!
Haste leads to consequences dire!
Consider carefully all the options
Before bringing a plan to fruition.
It could be deciding what to wear
Or going for a drive somewhere.
With impatience, you may forget
Important things, and then regret.
For, hurrying blinds the mind’s eye –
And is a waste of your precious time.

The Blank Page

“It’s thirty minutes into the examination.”
So went the invigilator’s announcement.
In the silent room, her voice reverberated.
Grabbing the attention of all the students.

The only sound that followed thereafter
Was the scribbling of pens on the papers,
Intermittently punctuated by the rustles
Of notes laden pages being turned over.

And this was the case for all except one.
He, too, sat with his head lowered down.
Except that his answer sheet was blank,
And he was thirty minutes into the exam.

He was staring at the empty white paper –
Beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
It was at that moment that he could hear,
“Read it again, you’ve studied this before.”

“Read it,” coaxed the page that was blank.
“You know the solution to the question.”
With renewed hope, he reread the query.
In his mind, the answers started forming.

Soon the pages were not blank anymore.
He passed the exam with a decent score.
For truth be told, my dear friends,
A blank page is never ever silent.

My Secret Garden

In the secret garden of my mind,
There are blue skies and sunshine.
Flowers bloom in myriad colors.
Birdsongs echo in the lush bowers,
Ushering hope and good tidings.
With the blessing of eternal Spring.

Ode to the Postcard

O Postcard! I miss you so!
With pictures full of colors and life
And little handwritten notes,
You captured moments in time.

You no longer arrive at the door.
No longer do people want to write.
It’s the age of IM and do you know?
Emojis and texting rule, but IDKY.

With you, words would often flow
Thoughtfully penned line by line.
Little bits of the heart and soul
That kept relationships alive.

Even the beautiful photos spoke
Of visits to people and places nice.
Invitations, news, updates, and more,
To send a postcard was just fine.

Now you are just a memory
Of the lives of people long forgotten,
Kept in museums for all to see.

Or locked in a chest in the attic.
Sometimes, sold as a collector’s item
Inspiring poetry and stories.