A few months ago there was a news item in the front pages of some prominent dailies on how the erstwhile post card and blue inland letter were losing their sheen and their sales have been declining over the years after the invasion of gadgets that are literally controlling our lives, and robbed us of the charm of writing with pen and paper.
Much saddened over the disappearance of what had been vital and prestigious communication tools, around which our lives had been built for several decades, I am prompted to write this piece as an eulogy for how they stood as a symbol of identity for the Indian communication system.
Our means of communication have grown by leaps and bounds. Nevertheless, the humble post card and the inland letter have played a substantial role in the past and have set the trend for the emails and instant messages that came after. They were not simply blunt tools for communication, but carried personal touches and helped develop a bond between people.
Years ago, my wife and I participated in a television contest via post, which won us a grand prize of a 1 kg silver bar. And when I shared our joy with my novelist uncle, he promptly wrote back in praise on a post card.
Needless to say, we still preserve the card as memorabilia of my late uncle. To give another example, a popular Tamil weekly had published hundreds of my humorous punch lines that I sent on post cards. Communication via gadgets may be swift, yet it is simply a different form of the letter. A positive communication to our dear ones through a hand-written post card not only helps in nurturing a bond; such a letter can be preserved for nostalgia.
Talking about the post card and inland letter evokes deep-seated memories of the iconic red post boxes that were once close to our hearts and stood out on our streets. Just as how the post had been an integral part of our life, the postman was also considered an extended member of our family, since he was a bridge between us and world, delivering letters, money orders, and so on, with dedication and commitment.
Once, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, as I sat and prepared to write an inland letter to my friend, a former schoolmate, and one who had long settled in New Delhi, my memories take me back four decades ago to the unmistakable postman—short in size and with the post bag slung smartly on his right shoulder—and shouting the two very familiar words, “Sir, post!”
Email: siva19kumar@gmail.com