The Post Office

By Hasan Wadud

It was a fine Friday morning, and I had written a couple of letters to my best friends and cousins. I had to send it to them. Even though there is WhatsApp and stuff, I prefer post. I also had a badge that I wanted to parcel.

After a couple of hours, while I was on my way home after the Friday prayers, I decided to visit the post office to send my letters and badge.

The office was in the next colony, at least according to Google Maps. In the photo, it looked like a modern office. I was proud of India for making these good offices.

I reached the place as guided by Google Maps, but there was no post office. But I was ready for this because I know Google Maps.

So I asked someone. They said it is in the High Court. The guard told us to go through the security scan. Only its name was security scan. I put my bag in the scanner, it looked like the guard just put the machine in full speed. It reached the other side much before me. And the guard who was supposed to check me was just holding the body scanner straight in his hand. And he was just sitting there. What about official citizenship IDs? At least that’ll be checked properly right? “Nah… just leave it. You’re just a kid” he said.

Yeah. Now that’s weird. Whatever. I went inside and searched. A person showed us the way to the office. It was inside the office.

It looked somewhat like in the picture, but was much more broken, tired atmosphere, and 4 people, tired of typing. It looked like it started like the starting of a school year. The energy and cleanliness. But after a month or two, you’ll be the same again.

I went to one of the corner. There was this chubby uncle with a thick moustache and nerdish hairstyle and a pair of rectangular specs. He was feeling sleepy and tired, but still he was trying to be kind.

I told him—“Uncle, I have a few letters to mail.” He said—“Yeah, then mail it.” I was like—“Oh um, I don’t have a stamp.” “Oh, ok. There is those stickers in that table, put it on

the letters.” he said. “Oh ok uncle, thanks a lot.” I said.

After that he said to me to give it to the aunty seated beside him. I was like "ok". He was feeling sleepy.

The aunty told me to write my name on the top, as I had forgotten to do so. Since it wouldn’t look good, I cut the whole thing and wrote again. She was looking at me with some tired eyes and said “Kitna bada nam hai beta?” which means “How long a name is it son?” I was sure that she was tired of typing. Then she gave me the slip. The names were written half. SEJU P. KURUVILLA was SEJU P KURUVI. AMAN ABDULLA was AMAN ABDU.

I couldn’t stop laughing from inside.

Then I asked the same uncle about sending the badge. He was feeling sleepy. He said it won’t go.

I couldn’t believe it. Wait, A Post Office is basically there to help you send parcels right? I thought in my mind. So I asked him many times. But I got the same reply with him, who was feeling more sleepy each time.

So I decided to ask the other guy next to him. He was using his phone. He said — “Yeah sure. Just put it in a box and give me.” The chubby uncle looked at the guy like—“Oh…It’s like that?…..hmmm.. leave it…. Let me sleep.”

I didn’t have a box so I thought I’ll send it later.

Then I saw a big board— “Philately- King of the Hobbies! Available to buy here.” I asked the uncle one again. He said that those are just are just written like that. You don’t get those things. Then he went noding off again.

Then I left.

I needed to go out of there through the advocates’ offices. It was a clean, silent, hallway. This is probably because it is an important office.

But now I was suddenly surprised to see 4 stray dogs walking through it. This is one of the craziest things I have ever seen.

Phew… That was a great adventure.

©Hasan Wadud