Bharatiya Daak

I have sung the praises of the phone service quite often. But not so much of my postman- we dont meet too often, and when we do he is a little snobbish.

But now I am talking of the Indian Post as a whole- and they sure do deserve praise. Yes, there are inefficiencies, and with e-mail and courier, the post is fighting a losing battle against changing times- or so it seems in the urban areas.

But I was in the hills on that geology trip of mine, and we stopped for chai in a village called Rauton ki Veli. It is the largest village for miles around, but it is not much, really. It is just that this village is on the main road. There are tens of other villages scattered about on the hill slopes. Visiting one means a trek of several very steep miles.

And the postman visits each and every one of these. This is important everywhere, but much more so in a remittance economy such as one finds in the Himalayas.

Then there is what the post means to the villagers. For many, it is the only means of communication. I dont know about here, but among the villagers I have spoken to, going to the village post office to save a bit of money or to send a letter to a husband in the town is a simple but important assertion of self.

I love the picture of the woman here. I love that she has come alone from her village and that she is not relying on a thumb impression, but signing her name.