My experiment with snail mail

I recently wrote a letter in the good old manner — using pen and paper — and dropped it in a letter box at the post office. The entire experience was surreal.

Since I had to write to a friend who is based abroad, I visited the post office and asked whether they still sold aerogrammes. My tone was cautiously apologetic as I was expecting some in-your-face smirks and sarcastic responses. But the clerk was kind enough to tell me with a straight face that they no longer sold aerogrammes. He suggested that I could send my letter using a normal envelope.

I came home and did a search for A4 sheets. Thankfully, some blank pages, leftovers after my daughter finished college, were available.

The idea of writing a letter came as a whim. I had forwarded to my friend a newspaper story of a guy who still used post cards to send messages. Soon, the conversation veered around to the letters we used to exchange decades ago when email was unheard of. We both lamented that we had lost those letters while shifting houses and moving cities.

I then told my friend that I wished to restart writing letters. It hardly got registered in her mind. I reiterated my intent and told her to share her postal address. She obliged out of politeness, but with little expectation.

So, here I was, plonked on a chair with a blank sheet of A4 paper. I decided to begin the letter by mentioning my enquiries about aerogrammes. But writing was a tough act. During the revision, I realised that even for commonplace words I was missing out certain letters. The absence of a spell-checker was sorely felt.

The hand-mind coordination was patchy, with the pen going astray. Every second sentence, I had an inverted V symbol to accommodate the missed-out articles and prepositions.

However, on the plus side, there were no distractions. I could focus well while writing. There were no push notifications or the five to 10 tabs open to distract me.

After finishing the letter, I went to the post office and approached the same employee, who directed me to a person selling stamps. During the pre-email days, they were the busiest people, selling stamps, envelopes, inland letters and other items, and they had to handle long queues. Often, heated arguments used to break out over loose change.

Now, the counter was deserted. She gave me three stamps, and after affixing them, I went about looking for the letter box. I found a small wall-mounted version. It was placed so inconspicuously that anyone would have missed it.

I then inserted my envelope into the box, and it instantly became apparent that it was empty. I could hear the thud when the envelope hit the bottom.