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Playing Post-Man (Girl?) for the Post-Man!




"Post!" 

Every month, my thrilled ten-year-old self would glide down the stairs two-at-a-time, beckoned by this call. The Post-Man, standing at the entrance to the quarters that we then lived in, would hold the monthly issue of the childrens' magazine I had subscribed to, with a beaming smile on his face. 

"Thank you uncle!" I'd exclaim gleefully, as I receive it from him. 
He'd smile affectionately at me, as he stood there organising the remaining bundle.

Being the curious child I was, I'd peep into the stack of posts, trying to find any which were addressed to my friends or to the people in the same block. If I happened to spot any of them from the said category, I'd offer to deliver them on his behalf. 

The Post-Man uncle would then with a grateful smile, hand over the respective posts to me, as he sped on his way with a, "Thank you very much, Paapa!"

I would then proceed to diligently face the task ahead of me, (which was honestly just another excuse to bother my friends and visit my neighbours, and sometimes to make new friends), to deliver the posts addressed to them. It also made me joyous, having helped ease someone's tedious work, which left me feeling like I've done something good that day. Having delivered all the posts, I'd happily head home to the magazine waiting to be read. 

Today, most of my subscriptions have become digital. My letters have evolved into instant messages and e-mails. There's high ease of access, timely delivery, and cost-efficiency. 

And yet, the small joy of holding the magazine and inhaling its scent, after a month of waiting, is absent. That unique bond of affection between the Post-Man and I, is lacking. And most of all, I miss playing Post-Man to the houses in the neighborhood, which made my ten-year-old self feel important and welcome, when the recipients smiled and thanked me as I delivered their posts. 

The thrill that, "Post!" invokes in me remains yet irreplaced by e-mails and instant messages.

-Pavithra Seshadri

Image courtesy: Google Images

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