Hi all....
Oops... sorry for not showing up yesterday...
But I have a valid reason yaar... It took me a while to bring myself out of the friday night's effect.
By the way... I have some childhood thoughts to share wid u all... I slept a lot for the last couple of days and now I am not falling asleep anymore. And so I thought I would use the time and sleeplessness to let you know some of the stuff in life I have usually avoided talking about....And when I logged into my blog, I saw that Hima already made her first post. Of course all of you know that I am no less than her....(male domination in fact)
Now, allow me to delve into your mind for a couple of minutes.
And here we go.....
Perhaps for reasons best known to them, my elders decided to invest a certain amount of money intended to be mine, in -- The Post Office.
Yes, its the government one that I am talking about.
Its the only one which has one of the oldest buildings in my city as its workplace. If which you would pass by, will fill your ears with an unpleasant 'banging' sound; of stamping on the mails.
Indeed, the place where you get brilliantly coagulated brown glue with an equally brown, glue-coated brush which I must say is very adamant on not changing its state of absolute hardness, in a sea-blue colored bottle.
My immense skill in making money flow, like water, could have been the reason that it is in there now. Frozen. A fixed deposit of sorts. Clever of them.
As a result of the 'worthy' investment, I was told to collect the interest every month. With great reluctance, I took myself there almost every month. And then came May.
Just successfully done with my final examinations, had a party with friends last night and am desperately in need of sleep. But then it’s the time to collect the interest amount from the post office.
So I woke up early (around 10 am, before you imagine smaller numbers) one fine Saturday morning. Probably one of the toughest things to do in my present life. Cursing the damn post office and the post officer, I readied myself. In the age of e-mail and blogs, here I was, going to the post office. I wondered if I would be the only one who did so.
Shaking off my irritation, I drove to the ancient structure which is sometimes painted to make it look new. Futile attempts of an over-ambitious post office employee perhaps. I parked my vehicle outside the gate and turned around. There was a goat sitting there. Chewing the wall poster paper. Not pretty.
I rushed in. What I saw in there did nothing to make me feel better. There were four very old men inside. Three of them held envelopes determinedly not to misplace them and the fourth man was trying with all might to fill a form. The corpulent post officer sitting in his now fragile chair, counted money. At once, I knew I had to wait.
I waited and watched. It looked as though the form would never be filled. One of the other oldies who was sitting on a dicey bench slipped into a quiet slumber. The other one had engaged himself into a quarrel with the impossible post officer about the cost of certain red stamps. I noticed with a strange look in his eyes, the fourth one was eyeing me. The steady gaze was broken as a crumpled paper hit the ground. The old man had been provided with a new, blank form to re-fill and the old one was thrown off. It is going to be a long day. I took the dicey bench as I knew I had to sit now.
As I sat there, as it usually happens, I digested the fact that I will have to wait forever. Patience overtook and as I waited, something struck me. Something that I was surprised and ashamed did not occur to me before. It was a conscious realization.............
People Do Need The Post Office.
These poor, old men were so desperate to send their letters and save their money, that they were enduring the perpetual taunts of the post officer from almost an hour. Unattended to and reprimanded, they tried to be patient. Patience-One of the virtues which old age brings in. A virtue not very helpful for the aged though.
The men who had a little money probably wanted to deposit it in an account for later use. Probably the only support they have. The men with the letters probably needed financial support. Maybe letters to loan offices. Or letters of requests for money addressed to long gone children. Or perhaps mere hints of their desire for a visit from their loved ones. Attempts to find their ways out of dark and helpless oblivions.
My view had now metamorphosized them into fighters struggling at every step. In the post office, the fighters were fighting one of the smallest battles of their life. The biggest one inevitably was old age.
As I came out of my reverie determined to help the fighters in some way, three of them had already dissappeared. The fourth fighter had just left without the stamps. Perhaps he could not convince the officer. I never knew if the others got their accounts opened or if they could get the right stamps and send their letters. If the letters did reach their destinations and did have requests, I also would never know if they were ever answered.
I finished my job in a minute and walked back outside the gate. Again so immersed in thought that I did not notice the goat! I could not help a smile cut across my somber face when I thought - If I am very rich someday, I should do something for the old.
Thanks for staying with me and listening to me so far....
As always I welcome comments...
C ya allll
Stay safe till we meet again.....
URs Rajjj....
