THE INDIAN POSTAL SERVICE
The post-runners; their fidelity. The village post. Letters
to rustics few. Popularity of post cards. Indian
train-sorters. Dishonesty. Insurance. Postal privileges. Use
of the telegraph; its abuse; absurd instance of this. The
postman a privileged visitor.
The excellence of the postal service in India is surprising
considering the difficult conditions under which it is worked. The men
engaged in the collection and delivery of letters are perhaps more of
a success than those who are employed within the post offices. These
latter have more temptations to dishonesty.
The lowest grade of all in the service is proverbially the most
dependable. These are the "post-runners," who are illiterate men who
collect letters but cannot deliver them, because they cannot read the
addresses. They often have very long beats in remote country
districts, where sometimes there is risk both from robbers and wild
beasts. The runner may be recognised by a sort of javelin which he
carries, presumably for his protection; and to this are attached some
jingling bits of iron or small bells, so that after dark you can
detect the post-runner by this sound. More often than not his long
journey extends into the night. Considering the lonely tracks through
which his road frequently leads, it is to the credit of the
inhabitants of the country that he is not often robbed. It is also to
his own credit that he is said to run any risk rather than fail to
deliver his mail-bag at its destination. His appearance, as he ambles
along in shabby attire with his letter-bag over his shoulder, is not
calculated to inspire confidence. But the Yerandawana letters are
picked up in the evening by one of these primitive post-runners, and
no instance is on record of any letter failing to reach its
destination.
Post offices are at present only to be found in a few of the more
important villages. The post-master is generally the Government
schoolmaster, who is grateful for any addition to his small income. In
thousands of Indian villages letters are only delivered two or three
times a week, or even less, and they have no post-box. People send
their letter to the post when anybody happens to be going to the
nearest town.
When the Mission first settled in Yerandawana there was no collection
of letters at all. The English mail letters, which reached Bombay on
Friday, sometimes did not get to Yerandawana till the following
Wednesday. But the postal authorities readily grant facilities as soon
as there is a reasonable demand for them, and there is now a daily
delivery; also a morning and evening collection from a post-box hung
in the verandah of the Mission roadside dispensary.
Villagers at present make so little use of the postal service that
greater facilities than they have already got are not yet required.
Few rustics can write with sufficient ease to enable them to write a
letter, and a considerable proportion of the few letters which come to
our villagers are soon brought on to the Mission-house, or to the
schoolmaster, because the recipients cannot read them for themselves.
Almost all Indian correspondence is carried on by means of post cards.
It is the only country, perhaps, in which the post card may be said to
be a real success. In India it exactly supplied a want. The card is
cheap (it only costs 1/4d.), and it is complete in itself. Stamps and
envelopes have to be wetted. The gum may have been made of the hoofs
or bones of the cow, and the thought of possible defilement of caste
comes in. The post card has no drawback. Its publicity, which makes
English people dislike it, is not considered a disadvantage by the
Indian. He reads other people's letters as a matter of course, and
expects other people to read his. I have often seen a postman seated
by the street side sorting out his post cards, surrounded by an
interested little crowd. He and they are reading as many of the post
cards as there is time for, and no one appears conscious of
irregularity in the proceeding.
A post-office inspector who was travelling in the train with me told
me that they have great difficulty in checking robberies committed by
the Indian train-sorters, because effective supervision is impossible.
In the interval between station and station, which in some of the mail
trains is often an hour or two, the sorters know that they are secure
from interruption. They get skilled in detecting by the feel the
presence of a bank-note within an envelope. In a country where paper
currency is largely in vogue people often send money by post in the
form of notes in unregistered letters, trusting to the thin note not
being observed.
Many such notes get stolen by the train-sorters. Even sending half
notes is not always a security, if the remitter does not take the
precaution of waiting to hear of the safe arrival of the first half.
The dishonest sorter having secured the first half, and having
observed the post-mark and hand-writing, will be on the look-out for
the other half, which he knows is likely to come along the same route
in a day or so. The only chance of getting hold of the thief is by
setting a trap for him in the shape of a marked note or coin. But the
Indian thief often suspects and avoids the trap. Inspectors board the
train at unexpected stations, and travel for a while with the sorters,
and look into their affairs; but the sorters are generally ready for
them, and no sign of irregularity is visible. Nevertheless a certain
percentage of thefts are brought to light, and the delinquents sent
to prison. Insurance of articles sent by post is a great safeguard, as
is shown by the fact that in one year recently the total insured value
of articles posted amounted to nearly L17,000,000, whereas the sum
paid in compensation was only about L500.
There are postal privileges in India such as England knows nothing of.
Not only is there the 1/4d. post card, but there is an inland 1/2d.
postage, for letters not exceeding 1/2 oz. in weight. The value of a
money order is brought in cash by the postman and paid into your hand,
and the receipt that you sign is returned by the post office to the
sender, and there is no possibility of your being defrauded, because,
if the money goes wrong on its way to you, the post office is
responsible.
Another great convenience is what is commonly spoken of as
V.P.P.--that is to say, the "value payable parcel" system. If you
order something from a shop to be sent by post, the postman collects
the value of the parcel before he hands it over, and the post office
transmits the money to the sender. If the person to whom the package
is sent refuses to pay, or if he cannot be found, the package goes
back to the sender. If the goods are heavy and are forwarded by train,
the railway invoice is sent by post, but it is not handed over by the
postman until he has received the value of the goods. An immense
amount of trouble and correspondence is saved by this system, and it
is a great security to shopkeepers in a country where distances are
great, and many customers unknown, or migratory, or living in
out-of-the-way places.
The telegraph has become rather popular amongst Indians, and they are
inclined to use it on trivial occasions. As telegrams have to be
transmitted in English, I am familiar with the nature of those sent to
rustic Indians, because those that come to Yerandawana always find
their way to the Mission bungalow to be interpreted. Amongst the more
well-to-do Indians a death is now almost always announced by
telegraph. It is a new and impressive way of showing respect to the
deceased, and makes it appear that he was in his lifetime an important
person. In cases of sickness telegrams are despatched here and there
to relations, summoning them urgently and at once, before there has
been time to ascertain whether the sickness is really serious or not.
Relations hurry off from long distances at great expense (how they get
the money is in some cases a mystery), and arrive perhaps to find the
sick person walking about. Christians under similar circumstances act
with just as much hasty precipitation as other Indians.
A most absurd instance of the abuse of the use of the telegraph
happened to one of our Christian women. She got a telegram to the
effect that her son was going to be hanged on the following Thursday,
and that she must come at once. The woman brought the telegram to the
Mission-house in the utmost consternation and distress. The son being
rather a "ne'er-do-weel," his having got into some scrape was not
improbable; but that he should have committed murder, and been tried
and sentenced without anybody hearing of it seemed impossible. A
telegram was sent to the governor of the gaol where the lad was
supposed to be. A reply was promptly returned saying that there was no
prisoner of that name in the gaol. The whole thing proved to be an
absurd attempt on the part of the lad himself to get his mother to
come to the place where he was living. To have merely telegraphed that
he was ill might not have had the desired effect, but the appalling
contents of the false telegram he thought were bound to be effective.
The inevitable distress of his mother he does not appear to have taken
into account at all.
Telegrams are also used as a means of putting on the screw in case of
a debt, or perhaps as a means of extorting money falsely. "Send Rs. 20
at once"--"Bring Rs. 5 without fail to-morrow"--such have been some of
the village telegrams. The contents of a telegram soon become public
property, because a small crowd always accompanies its recipient when
he comes to have it read. They listen eagerly to its contents, discuss
it at length, and retail it to all absentees.
[Illustration: THE INDIAN VILLAGE POSTMAN.
(The white paint-marks on his forehead and cheeks indicate that Vishnu
is his special god.)]
The Indian postman knows that he is a privileged and generally welcome
visitor, especially when he is the bearer of the bulky weekly mail
from England. He steps into the verandah, or in at any of the many
wide-open doors of the bungalow, with a confidence and with a
consciousness that there is no need to ask permission, such as other
Indian visitors do not always feel.