From & To Sathish #7 - Page 97

https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2026/02/21/south-korea-ai-popular-why-00789618?utm_medium=email&utm_source=ten_tabs&utm_campaign=position=6&category=fascinating_stories&scheduled_corpus_item_id=09d0ea72-1af9-47f8-bdf4-08df3592308f&url=https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2026/02/21/south-korea-ai-popular-why-00789618

The Country That’s Madly in Love With AI

Who’s afraid of AI? Not South Korea.

https://www.self.com/story/brain-health-experts-diet?utm_medium=email&utm_source=ten_tabs&utm_campaign=&position=8&category=fascinating_stories&scheduled_corpus_item_id=8840f12f-0b4f-4355-bca7-1b13e0a36c00&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.self.com%2Fstory%2Fbrain-health-experts-diet

What 5 Brain Health Experts Eat to Preserve Their Cognitive Health

The Night Train of Life

We are all passengers on a night train, travelling the long journey of life. It is an endless journey stretching across tens of thousands of years. Each passenger on this train must eventually disembark. Some ride for fifty years, some for sixty or seventy, others for a full hundred, but when the train arrives at their station, each must get off. Outside the train, it is pitch dark. No one, not even the traveller himself, knows where they are going once they step off.

To get off the train of life means to step out into death. And no one knows what lies beyond it. Most people try hard to avoid getting off at their station. They plead, ‘How can I leave my family?’ They ask, ‘Where am I supposed to go in such utter darkness?’ But when the time comes, everyone must leave the night train. The train moves on without pause, indifferent to who has disembarked or what has become of them. Two people may choose to get off at the same time, but each must go off on their own separate path the moment they step off the train. Coexistence is allowed only on the train, within the boundaries of life. We are all riding this night train of life. In a hundred years, everyone on board now will have been replaced. Even in fifty years, half the faces we know will have stepped off into the darkness.

There was a man named A on this train. While on board, he worked tirelessly to earn money. With that money, he bought valuable possessions, ate good food and dressed in fine clothes. Time passed. He grew old and the time came for him to step off the train. But he didn’t want to. How could he leave behind the money he had scrimped and saved, so frugally that he couldn’t find a single bowl of rice to spare for a hungry stranger? How could he hand over all the treasures he had clutched so tightly, never letting go for a single moment? As he agonised, the train pulled into his station. It was time. A hugged his possessions one last time before being pulled off the train out into the darkness, where there was nothing but night. His family stayed behind and divided up his money, his belongings, his food. They said, ‘He was a generous father.’ But the passengers still on the train looked on in silence. One of them said quietly, ‘He loved his wealth so dearly. I can’t imagine how much it hurt that he couldn’t take it with him.’

There was another man on the train, named B. He had spent his life devoted to art. In his youth, he endured poverty and frequently went hungry. He never lived in luxury. He had only a few friends, with whom he shared warm companionship. But still, he managed to publish a few volumes of his works. He had little interest in money or material goods. In winter, he got by in a threadbare coat. In summer, sweat poured from his brow as he wrote. Eventually, his time came too. He said goodbye to his few friends, quietly remarking, ‘I wish I had left behind better work…’ And then he stepped off the train.

As the train moved on, the remaining passengers read his books. They said, ‘He lived a hard life, but gave us so much joy. We’re thankful to him.’

There was also a man called C. He spent nearly his whole life walking up and down the train. He sought out the sick to offer comfort and medicine. He visited those who were suffering and lent them a sympathetic ear. Sometimes he gave his own food to someone poorer than himself. Sometimes, without a word, he sat beside someone just to sit with them in their sorrow. His whole life was love and service. To everyone, he offered the same smile, the same kindness, the same compassion. It was as if he had boarded the train to serve the abandoned and forgotten. When his time came, he too stepped off the train. Many mourned his departure. ‘If only he could have stayed with us a little longer.’ One passenger said, ‘We should carry on his work and help those in need as he did.’

Which of these three people would we like to be? How should we live our lives?