For the last two days, I’ve been checking and cross-checking if I have the best photo management workflow, for this, I wanted to check two services which sprang up over the last one year – Apple photos and Google photos. Number of websites cited Google’s product is the better one with its exemplary facial recognition, search and experience. All articles highlighted only one point – if you like privacy, use Apple photos and if you don’t bother then Google photos. If you compare the TOS (terms of services) of each service:
Libraries
Almost every afternoon for five years after lunch I walked the steps of our school library. Not being of the athletic type, books were my only option to spend time with. So, almost for five years I kept visiting the library, borrowing, reading and re-reading under the steady, serious gaze of the librarian. Unlike now, twenty years back we did not have the world in our pockets, so, besides experience, books were only the gateways into the world at large. Its difficult for me to recollect what specifically I read, but I remember going through encyclopedias, comics, retold classics, Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew, etc. Though I was mostly alone in my sojourns, occasionally I had company of one or two friends, who were surprised I was more interested in actually reading than talking to them. So, none accompanied me twice. (My friends can attest to this behavior even now when they come with me to bookshops ). Reading in the silence of libraries is among the peaceful times of my life; without moving a inch from my seat I would be transported to magical lands on awesome adventures. Who needs friends I wondered.
Handling Worry
I sucked at Maths. I hated that subject, did not understand why we were studying it and was pretty much dumb at it. My heart would come into my mouth every time I wrote a maths exam and expected its results. I still have nightmares, often getting up in the middle of the night thinking I failed the exam, even though it’s been 10 years that I successfully graduated. My fathers health was always in doldrums. I would jump off my seat every time the phone rang, always expecting the worst. I would worry every time my manager would ping, wondering what I might’ve messed up.
Worry is a part of everyone’s life. Some of it real, some imaginary. But, worrying too much just makes our life hell. There are days I didn’t want to get up from bed dreading what was in store for the day. Worry can immobilize us. As we grow, we learn different tips and tricks to combat worry. I learnt a few from the book – ‘how to stop worrying and start living’ by Dale Carnegie.
To a younger me
Dear Sai,
I know you are going through the lowest point in your life, that you are clueless and want a guiding hand, a sympathetic smile and someone to believe in you. Let me tell you what, you did not get all of them, but you still made it through. Ten years hence you’ll look back and term this period as the most difficult but life changing time. Hang-in there. Life teaches us everyday, sometimes the same lesson again and again till we learn from the experience. Over the last ten years I’ve stumbled and learnt lessons that would’ve made your life less difficult and more bearable, had I known them earlier. But, better late than never. Here are a list of few points to help you navigate the world better. Hope to see you as a better me.
Capes & Cowls
When I was a kid our family used to go on a lot of pilgrimages, with trains as our preferred mode of transportation, thanks to my grandfather. And, of course as any kid, I used to love trains, even the smelly sleeper class coupes and train stations. Train stations were gateways and trains were the transport ready to whisk me away on an adventure, I used to think. But, there was another reason I loved them – bookstores. You can always find bookstores in a train station – a Higginsbotham bookstore, a RK Math outlet, or at the very least a nameless vegetable cart littered with magazines, pirated books and comics. These were the only bookstores I knew other than the magazine stall at Dilsukhnagar bus stop. And, it was here I first discovered comics.