Since we don’t know why we are here
Let’s do what the the Heaven we like,
Until the region’s economies produce jobs, and its ministers produce respect, at the pace they produce graduates, South Asia’s Gen Z will keep finding new, and increasingly desperate, ways to be heard
The real question is simpler: do Indian states want to use a resource that is geographically closer, internationally certified, available already, or would they prefer to continue to suffer from a yearly deficit on the other side of the Corridor?
In the case of the Global South, this would mean designing AI according to the demands of that particular place and within the bounds of its available power. It would mean opting for small language models, frugality, and less energy-intensive infrastructure over costly mimicry of Silicon Valley.
The government is also engaging doctors, psychologists, lawyers, civil society organisations, NGOs, religious leaders and community representatives to facilitate de-radicalisation and reintegration. Young people are encouraged to participate in constructive social activities that promote communal harmony and reduce the appeal of extremist ideologies.
Since we don’t know why we are here
Let’s do what the the Heaven we like,
Impatience they say, now holds sway
Impatience will bring forth gains,
You see, I C B M’s, as the much-touted
When life’s no more than each breath we take,
Than the days and nights that we call the past,
Materialism’s at its Zenith Now
But, Money can’t buy God nor ever will,
It’s not about Perfection
But, all about Connection,
The look in your eyes is no surprise,
The fear I see is meant to be
I think I knew who lived here once
And, I think, I knew him well,
Twilight, that time between sunset and nightfall
When Orange, nay Red, is the colour of the sky,
Is AI the way forward, or
Out there to destroy Humanity,
O waning moon, where do you go?
Why are you not on constant show?
Milestones are milestones, mere distance recorders
How you travelled and journeyed unknown,
Each grain of Sand does a message carry
Stagnation’s ruin, do not tarry,
Never has the world so lost its way
As it has, alas, so sadly today,
O how immortal is the soul,
And how fatal is desire,