Rehaman is
the postman of our village. He is a matriculate and is nearly thirty years old.
He wears a khaki uniform, and ties turban on his hand. He leads very busy life. He goes to the post
office at 9 O’clock, and returns home very late after sunset. He has to cover
nearly twenty miles on his bicycle, to visit two villages every day. He carries
a bundle of letters, parcels and money orders in his bag. He goes from house to
house, delivering these things to their addresses. He has also to read out
these letters and to write replies for the illiterate villagers. At the same
time, he sells post-cards, envelopes, and postage as well as revenue stamps to
those who need them. He receives payment for these, sometimes in cash and
sometimes in kind. Sometimes he has to sell these things on credit, instead of displeasing
anybody. The villagers look upon him as a highly educated man, and they treat
him with great respect and kindness. They are glad to entertain him with
butter-milk or sherbet. They provide him with food, if he feels hungry; and
they let him rest on a cot under the shade of a tree, if he is feeling tried. He
is a very useful member of society.
12 Comments
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