Ramlal loved
his job, for he was loved by one and all, the kids, the youth and the old. He
was a source of smile for the most. A postman he was, a very familiar
one, and a really trustworthy one. By now, he was familiar with everyone in the
society, and his polite manner and decent behaviour made him all the more lovable. Kids loved him, and would often ask him to buy them the same uniform
Ramlal used to wear. He would ask them to come with him to get the uniform. The
kids then laughingly used to run away. Though, it was a joke but for Ramlal,
the kids, the families in the society were the only family he had.
Yes, Ramlal
was alone, lonely, had one child who had shifted to some place far away from
his residence. His wife, who died a year ago,
was his sole companion. At work, he was very punctual, and did it passionately.
He would often love to go to societies where he had become a familiar face,
and would even fight for the same. But everybody there understood it, because
for Ramlal, those people were all he had for a family.
It was one
rainy morning, when Ramlal had to go to his beloved society. The rain was too
hard for the 58 year old to go and deliver the posts, but he knew that there
might be some mother waiting for a post from his son posted to a distant land, a
father waiting for a mail from his son who is fighting at the border, and more.
He was all set to set out when his senior at work, told him not to go. Ramlal,
stubborn as always, refuted, and said his health is far less important than the
purpose for which he was going.
“But there
isn’t any post that reads urgent, or important”, said the officer.
Ramlal was
on his way, he did not care about what people had to say. When he stepped
outside, he realized how heavy the downpour was, and by then, even the roads
were waterlogged with no means of transport. It seemed an uphill task till the
time he did not reach the society.
The roads
were full of water, and it was difficult to reach the houses. Ramlal’s physical
strength had seen enough of it since morning. And with the never ending rain, his
health was deteriorating faster. His breath was breaking, and since it was
raining, nobody bothered to come outside, rather they did not notice somebody
is calling from outside, someone far away from the door.
Ramlal fell
down, with his bag containing letters, perhaps the weight of the bag drenched
in water had become too much for the lean skinny old man to bear. Running out
of breath, he looked at the heavens, his loved ones were calling him, and so
was his call of duty. He tried to stand up, to reach to one door, the one door
that might open many doors. Helpless as ever, he could not get up even after
repeated trials. The water level had reached knee height, and it took some real
effort for him to keep his head sustained above the water level. He was losing
his will, situations were such, his screams were becoming less loud, he was
leaving, and he could see it.
Finally, he
gave up!
He succumbed
to the situations, his undying willingness and love towards his “family” costed
him his life, and , he had nobody to hear his cries his screams, which
would never be heard any more.
Ramlal,
questioned God in heavens, “Why did no one come to rescue me. I would not have
mind dying in the hospital bed, had I got to see one face for which I lived?”
God replied,
“Son, from your perspective, they were all you had, everything that you wanted,
yes, they were the solace you required, and the happiness you desired. But
life, rather the perspective was not the same from the other side. They had
their families and were busy there. They did not hear your cries, because your
hearts were not connected. We choose people we love, and it is unconditional,
you loved them with all your heart, but for them, you were an ordinary postman,
who brings some smile to their cause. Had it not been for your profession, who
knows they might not have loved you the same way”
Ramlal
understood the point. Love is unconditional.
