It was a man in the khaki uniform and a bag. It was the postman!
The familiar sight of the local postman was a like a breath of fresh air.
He held up a blue paper to me with the stamp and the address penned down on one side and a lot of stuff filling up the other side and the other half of the little sheet as well."For me?" I accepted it very proudly.
An inland letter from my paternal 86 year old uncle from Rourkela is a quarterly phenomenon. In today's age of email and skype and chat and buzz and twitter and facebook and flickr...an elderly man still picks up a Cross fountain pen, opens it , fills it with camlin royale blue ink, and writes"My dearest Sow.Samyukta" and proceeds to give an update in old Victorian Indian English(you know) accentuated with the right questions in return.
For me the very act of receiving and reciprocating through this channel of communication is such a rejuvenating exercise.
Its amazing really, a unique brand identity and a truly clutter breaking exchange.
Hanging on to our roots and simultaneously adopting newer channels is not such a bad idea after all. Infact its this very culmination of the old with the new that makes it so exciting.
Brands out there could sometimes perhaps resort to this medium as a means of direct marketing. A consumer is bound to revel in this public display of affection!
