News Like ma, can a machine ever truly say, ‘I am also yours’? Like ma, can a machine ever truly say, ‘I am also yours’? It is nearly midnight in New York when my mother Zooms me from India. She is in her kitchen in the home where I grew up, washing rice. I am in my office in Lower Manhattan, sitting cross-legged, programming code. The laptop, bent at its hinge, and my body, bent at the neck, make an imperfect square.