A poem from a lay practitioner and student at Columbia University reflecting on how his actions as an AI researcher will have transformative consequences for future generations.
By Arvind Raghavan on
Walking to my lab, I am enveloped in the ocean of his brown robes
Sitting at my desk, I sit as a child in my grandfather’s lap
Speaking to my friends,
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A poem from a lay practitioner and student at Columbia University reflecting on how his actions as an AI researcher will have transformative consequences for future generations.
By Arvind Raghavan on
Walking to my lab, I am enveloped in the ocean of his brown robes
Sitting at my desk, I sit as a child in my grandfather’s lap
Speaking to my friends, I sense his presence
Listening to each word I say, and to the silence between them
Thinking about this or that during the day, I hold his hand
I see him smiling
The bell on my phone reminds me: you are still thinking. Return
“I may be found in your way of breathing and walking,” he insisted
Could he be right?
It is March
Ink dries on the equations I write on the whiteboard
The cherry blossoms are opening in New York
