On an empty street at dawn.
When not a soul is around.
I hear a shriek of a horn
as if some wild hounds abound.
The car speeds breaking all reds.
Daily run, just habitual.
Blaring music, no guilt shreds.
Mindless honking a ritual.
Hello mister motorman.
Do not limit my life span.
Red lattoo with strings around,
gives it a twist when let loose.
Whirring with freedom abounds
not just children are amused.
Sometimes it tickles your palm,
and from hand to hand it hops.
Sometimes it spins down your arm,
and battles with other tops.
O! Those antics, gymnastics
while dancing on its axis.
The old turtle has a white scarf around.
The English teacher is teaching history.
Blue roses with green stripes, plenty abound.
The dead man walking remains a mystery.
The volleyball has stayed long in the air.
Gallons of water do not quench the thirst.
The ghost looks funny with his long blue hair.
A treeless forest, just golden sawdust.
Sometimes a lady comes and brooms my room.
And I can still hear her in the kitchen.
Deepest is the sleep in the morning bloom.
Till I hear the beans grind and coffee churn.
Though an owl hoots to tell it is a dream.
Here I am real though unreal seem.
Stone paths curve around the Buddhist temple.
A small bridge runs over a tiny pond.
The winds blow, the streams gurgle and tremble.
Bamboo trees stand firm like a magic wand.
A workshop of artists hums with their wares.
Scent and the sense of purpose are alive.
Wisdom blends with talent- permeates the air.
Age old tradition is brought back to life.
The Buddha temple has a golden vibe
where the lord sits so calmly in repose.
Sacred scriptures penned by the ancient scribe.
Colourful prayer flags flutter in rows.
With holy chants Buddha is garlanded.
Here I would be if reincarnated.
The terrace has wooden tiles.
And a black marble platform.
Here time stops for a long while.
Just the sky’s colours transform.
I can see the ocean roll,
and hear the old temple bells.
The soul goes for a long stroll
while I bask in the wind spells.
As dawn filters into dusk-
chunks of ice melt into musk.
In sports you need a rival
to spur you on and challenge.
To live beyond survival-
find the essence of balance.
One who stretches your limit
is not a foe but a friend.
He moulds you in a fire-pit,
discards the iron that bends.
But beware of the glass guise.
Enemy lies in disguise.
Jabro lay drugged and sedated on a huge marble slab. He was a 250 kg silverback gorilla. And he was brought here for an experiment - rude and against his rights. But better for the future generations of gorillas or maybe for all the animal species in general, so Michael thought. He was fussing over him. He had developed a chip called NUT which he had inserted into Jabro’s brain.
NUT would monitor Jabro’s thoughts and stream them over Michael’s computer screen. He wanted to know what or how a gorilla thought. They all seemed to have very inquisitive eyes so Michael knew they could process it like a human being. Maybe not to that extent but still.
NUT was designed to work like an AI. Just like how a computer is aided and made more expressive with the help of AI, so would this NUT help gorilla think, imagine, and ultimately express more like no other gorilla had ever been able to do so before. Maybe Jabro would start talking.
He wanted to send Jabro back to jungles before the effect of the drug wore off. The bandages were being removed. And Jabro was now moving slightly and making funny sounds….
