Brand new motorbikes for postmen - How does that sound to you? Or rather what do you feel when you read this? Well, what came to my mind was our old postman who wore the khakhi and came with bundles of letters on his old, creaky cycle, ringing the bell. In those times, I stayed with my cousins and we were still in our junior school. We had subscriptions of Balarama (a children's magazine), Competition Success Review, and Vanitha (a women's magazine). On weekends we eagerly waited for the postman and kept our ears sharpened to the sound of the bell.
We actually competed against each other in getting the subscription the first. The person who got it first had the chance to read it first. At times we fought a lot over this. The three of us would be in different corners of the house, but once we heard the bell ring, all would run madly to the gate. At times, the postman would be confused as to whom it should be handed over and he would at times consider the person who reached the spot first (something like a running race.. :-)). He was quite an old man, who never smiled. Or rather in our hurry, we never took the pains to see whether he smiled or not.
On rainy days, he used to come with a polythene bag on his head, and very rarely a raincoat. The letters would be neatly packed in a polythene bag to prevent it from getting wet. And during the rainy day, we held no running races, because he would come to the door to deliver the post.
Now we all have left the place. I don't even know the postman who comes to our house. Probably now he comes on a bike, drops the post, and leaves vrooomm... That's why I don't hear any bells ringing.