The postman clad in a khaki uniform visiting our homes in his bicycle to deliver our messages is a sight which we no longer see. The postal department had been with us for quite a long period now and when we look back into time we could see how important this department had been to us.
Cherished memories
I had never seen my paternal grandfather but when I came to know from my father that he was a postman who served the department till death I feel proud to be associated with this department. My grandfather was probably in service from the time just prior to the independence and was in service till early 1970’s before he passed away. My father used to tell how my late grandfather clad in his cotton Khaki uniform in his cycle used to do his work. My grandfather had 6 children to support and the meager salary from the postal job would be too less for the family.
My first letter was written by me to my maternal grandparents in English as I knew only Hindi and English then. My grandparents belong to South India and knew only Tamil. My uncle had read my letter and translated to them. Me being the first grandchild in my family could imagine how my grandparents would have felt having received a letter from me.
I still remember those days when I used to have pen friends. Some of
them from other countries too and when a letter addressed to me was
delivered by a post man those were the happiest moments. Exchanging our small thoughts across the distance barrier through those blue coloured Inland letters those yellow envelopes and 15 Paise postcards.
How we smuggled off those letters carrying our attendance record sent by the college to our parents.
I still remember the first job appointment letter delivered to me.
These are the parts of faint memory I share with this postal department and now that when I think over to see when I last received a mail or sent one.. I really cant determine that.
For countless years the postal department had been with us through our joys sorrows and every day in our life.
~ Delivering those joys to us Being with us in those sorrows when we used to receive a telegram informing a death for a distant family member.
~ Those postcards that carried regret saying that you were not selected.
~ Those envelopes that carried matrimonial photos across.
~ Those Inland letters that helped family members communicate and share information.
After the advent of INTERNET and mobile phones things have sure taken a great leap and we no more use the plain old snail mail. Communication is not instantaneous. Life has jumped on the fast tracks but some times I really miss those slow days when we used to send a mail having posted it in the post box used to wait weeks to get a reply back.