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The Mango Gardens

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When you are leaving Tokyo
on a sleeper class train — you gaze
onto the horizon, and see — not one — but several
nuclear power plants.
These power plants power the Shinkansen bullet~
trains, among other things.
Tokyo, ah Tokyo! You are so beautiful!
You are obsessed with the FUTURE, you want to know
what's coming next; but you need to break
the heart of an atom to power
your speedy trains, and stuff?

The train soon leaves the splendidly organized
citiscape of Tokyo, and encounters the realities
and details of the shades of nature;
There would be utter darkness
here, if the lights went off
in this cabin.
It all reminds me
of a professor whom I met in a "spoken English
class", in Germany: the doctor said: 'Behold!
The atom does not exist!', and we
all laughed at his words and demeanor.
But today — I too am
a doctor — a surgeon. I cut open the human
body, and amputate bad flesh thereof; I am
like God. I know a lot. I can alter your life
altogether, with a scalpel. But the words
of that professor are ringing into the ears, and
are not leaving my brain. What if, just
what if, he was right!
What if the atom does not exist, and the nuclear power
plants are all a joke?
But like the "Moon landing conspiracy"—
it's a good joke, even if it's only a joke.
A beautiful joke.

But think again for a moment:
You have read this poem. What if everyone in the world
had read this poem? What if all of us
wanted to remove the nuclear power plants, and
create mango garden there? How sweet the smell
of ripened mangoes be like, in summer?
What if even the little boys and girls, too, read
this poem? What if the entire world had read
this poem, and came to my house, and voted me
to become the President of the World?
At this point, you are free to leave this
poem. Because the message I wanted to embed
into your mind, and left my house, and made
its house inside your skull!

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