I got a mail---by post!

You must have read reports about the steady decline in the volume of letters arriving by post and about conjectures on the viability of postal services in US. This has been attributed mainly to the phenomenon of e-mails and other electronic communications, and use of phones of all variety. This must be true in other developed countries too. Which is a tragedy and a big loss, I feel! Nothing can really match the pleasure and excitement of writing, sending or receiving a letter via a postman, even a typed one though it will be simply heavenly if it is hand written!

Of course, I am referring to personal communications, particularly those which relate to matters of heart, about feelings, thoughts and emotions, but also simple chatter between a man and a woman, lover and beloved, between mother, father and their growing children who are miles away from each other, or just between friends who are missing each other. Phone calls and e-mails give instant connection and gratification. But, the flavor and magic of a hand written letter is impossible to beat!

I remember my days when I was serving in the army in the 60's, 70's, and 80's. For many years, I had my share of postings in far flung border areas far away from my family at non-family stations, in the north and the north east of India. In those days, there was a paucity of phones and the era of e-mails was nowhere on the horizon. The only way of communicating was by letters through postal services which took a week or more to arrive at their destinations. In emergencies, telegrams could be sent, but their reliability was always questionable. In any case, soldiers never looked forward to telegrams which were usually harbingers of bad news. They only waited for simple letters from home giving news about welfare of their families. Any good news was of course welcome! This incident relates to one of such border postings of my army career in the 80's.

I was posted at a remote corner in the far-east. My routine started with 'reveille' in the morning when we began our day with the usual PT (physical training exercises) followed by breakfast and then various training activities, lunch. more training and finally ended with the 'retreat'. We looked forward most to the afternoons when the unit DR (dispatch rider) would bring letters from our FPO (field post office). Most of us would get a letter once a week on the average, a letter from home which was literally our lifeline! It is impossible to exaggerate the value of this, something so vital for the morale, the mood, for the zest and spirit of all the troops living in difficult conditions hundreds of miles away from home. If one of us did not get a letter or a postcard say for 10 days, it was time to be concerned. And if this crossed the 2-weeks mark, the spirits will droop to our boots! Many of us passed through this difficult test periodically. Inevitably, it was my turn soon!

I was fortunate to get at least one letter every week, either from my wife or from my son and daughter who were studying in High School at that point of time. And then, it so happened that there were no letters from any of them for full two weeks. What was the matter? Was some one ill-seriously? Why couldn't my wife write at least? My mind started playing tricks! I lost my sleep and could not concentrate on my work. One of my colleagues, a junior officer - a dear friend really, noticed this and tried to reassure me with words like 'Do not worry Sir, everything is OK'. 'Our postal services are not that efficient you know. Your letters are stuck somewhere and will arrive soon. Relax!' And when he saw that my mood continued to be bad,' he said,'believe me Sir, you WILL get a letter tomorrow'. But I could not be consoled. My mind conjured up the worst things. I decided to send a telegram to my wife after waiting for just one more day.

Not soon enough, the next day and the next afternoon arrived! The postal DR reached our unit lines and our office. I was anxiously waiting in my room for some one to knock. And then it happened! There was a knock, my orderly came in with not one, not two but three letters! Two were from my home as I could see. The third looked from some one else. My joy knew no bounds as I read letters from my wife, and from my son and daughter! All was well, every one was doing well. 'God was there in the heaven and all was great with the whole wide world' I thought!

And then my eyes fell on the third letter. As I opened it, I wondered from whom it was. The small note sheet, to my utter surprise, was from my dear friend and well wisher who had been reassuring me for the last many days about my family!

'Dear Sir, please do not mind this little prank. Yesterday, I promised you that you will definitely get a letter today. Lest you do not get one, these lines are meant to fulfil that promise and as a good omen, just to make you feel a little better, though I know it may make you worse if today too, there is no letter from your near and dear ones. But I must write my letter! Let me repeat my words. Please do not worry about anything. Believe me, all is well with your family. Please relax! You will soon get their letters-----'. With regards, he had signed off!