This blog is from the yahoo 360 one. I need to make a bit of modification to it as today it’s a different time and situation. So I need to start with the spicy mail story to write on. but i dont have one today.

I wonder how my group members tackle me and my mails as its is very obviously I me myself in my mails. Projecting me as so superior being that I had a view on anything and everything and that too is not to be questioned. Hope fully some of them will be deleting when ever they see mine. This blog I wrote when I was waiting for some mail from the post man which I myself have forgotten by now.  

            So as I am waiting and waiting I thought of writing about my mail life. Oh what to write on about the mail. Mail is still a new word for me I am used to the post, and the postman and the post office and the post box and not mail. I don’t remember who has written the first letter to me. May be some greeting cards send by some friends from school for Christmas. I had even thought of buying some cards for myself and post to me. good idea na as the post office was two buildings away form my house. Not now that was some time ago as I was alone and waiting to receive some greetings on Christmas holidays. Thought wasn’t that bad I think, to keep myself happy (on a cost).

            I have written letters only to a few of my friends. The lucky ones were Raji my dear that’s how I greet , and Arathy and Shylaja. Few na but I used to write tons on nothing. But I got reply form only shylaja  and Raji dear. Shylaja and myself together from our school days and was seated next to me for two years of pre degree. Her mom calls her lali. But I never used that. She is a pretty girl with long curly hair and sweet voice. We both were nice to each other so when we departed we kept in touch through our mails. And Raji dear started writing to me when she got married and went off to London. That’s mails were really elaborate ones as we have to write tons and tons on ourselves. Me as usual would write some limericks on hindi in between the news. And needless to say these two were the people who appreciated my skills on dohas not as much as Kabir received but definitely never forgot to “thariff me” as in compliment. Arathy I used to write just to annoy her, once in a blue moon she responded in a bit of paper and posted to TKMCE, I doesn’t know how I got that.  To arathy it was more phone calls than mails.

            Now that I don’t write and post. I compose and mail. But unfortunately not that much response. All the technology won’t make you feel good even though everybody is only a click away. Why is that I don’t have to wonder because I myself do have  the “not responding to mail syndrome”.

            Do you know when was our mail system started in our good old India Raj. I have to research for that so not going to that. I heard of the “anchal oothakaran “ as they were called in those early days in Kerala from my mom. She had an uncle who is a mail man and has to go door to door  bare foot to deliver mail. He once put his foot on ash which was still burning inside and burned his whole feet and had to retire from that post as he was not able to run. It was really a hard job as he has to traverse through different kinds of terrains. There were cases when the Runners on duty were carried away by tigers, drowned in flooded rivers, bitten by venomous snakes, buried in avalanche or murdered by robbers and were plundered by highway robbers resulting in the loss of several lives. In the face of all these dangers, the Runners seldom shrunk from their responsibilities. Hope they had some sort of paramvir chakras.

Sir C.V. Raman - the great scientist and the Nobel Prize winner was initially a Postal Officer. One rare memory I had read somewhere. Another being the one of Tagore on the post office I am not sure of the story the kid in the story says that he wants to be the postman with the king and deliver mail from door to door. Something like that. Ok that was all history.

Today hearing of all sorts of stories on mail. The  Netherlands national post office began using a dairy company to carry packages to people’s doorsteps. I wonder if that is possible here as I haven’t seen any milk delivery in town an unlikely alliance for sure. One story of our postcard reminds me of the Doordarshn programme called surabhi which was hosted by the lady with a sparkling teeth Renuka,  the end of the program is the question which has to be answered through a post card and those people got to get millions of card every week.

Needless to mention of those who has suffered the most just because of the letters that they wrote to their secret ones. Heard of the Mahatma Gandhi letters in auction.  Just now I remembered the letters my mother got from her son when he got his first job and moved to Madras and then to Bangalore and To the US. She has a collection of those which do not resemble those written by Nehru and his daughter but I mention it as so. The best thing about those letters is that it just makes me proud of my command of Malayalam over his. He never messes up on paper no matter how many mistakes he makes the letters were like printed ones. And I had the rare opportunity to receive almost all the mails that he got from his female fans in and around Kollam. If I were a boy I would have made use of those.

            Last year I cleaned up all my paper stuff and moved it to my office room . mom had ordered me to get rid of my old stuff which were with me since 1980’s. definitely I need to clear all that. I felt very sad to read one of the card Biju had handed to me some time back and I never had opened it and read. As compensation I had promised him to give back something from the one he has given me with an extra something too. I really liked that gesture of his. Another surprise mail I received was from Das which I never thought that he will ever have me as a friend. He was the guy who was with me in our guruvayoor office.

               Some more people I have added to my distress healing mail list. That is when ever I feel down I would write to them as I don’t have the EGO problem with them. Shyam and anitha my class mates were on the top most list. And now I have added Reema and Venkit too. Reema was my room mate in Chennai and I feel like she will be there for me anytime even tough we never had such a close knit relation .venkit is new found man who is a jeweler in trivandrum which I have contact only trough mails and phone I never met him in person.