Mail call!

“Imiss letters!” sighed one of us at lunch. “Nobody writes them anymore. Instead of letters, we get so many phone calls.

What happened to those letter writers? Have they gone with the wind?” Even in my childhood, I loved to write letters and receive them. We did not, however, exchange letters with our close friends because we met them regularly. Newspapers carried pen pal corners giving the names and addresses of children who liked to exchange letters.

Some of them were from distant places in the island. A few of them were from foreign countries. To improve my writing skills I used to correspond with those who were willing to write in English.

There were a few foreign pen pals who used to correspond with me regularly. Most of them were quick to reply my letters. Letter writing was an art by itself.

I had a writing pad, a few envelopes and some stamps. The postage for a letter was five cents. I used to fill a page with sentiments while breathing heavily.

I signed the letters with four colours of crayon. I did not know how to write addresses on envelopes. Therefore, I depended heavily on my mother to do that job.

But I loved to affix stamps on the right hand corner of the envelopes. Then I walked to the nearest post office to mail my letters. I was curious to know how those letters reached the recipients.

Even my mother did not know the geography or the limits of reality of the working of the post office. But I knew that all the letters put into a post box would find th.