Post offices!

Ever been to a Post Office in India? I am talking about those ancient institutions that we have in most neighbourhoods. If you belong to any one of the following categories, chances are that you haven't visited one lately.

- You prefer a courier to a speed post or parcel by post.
- You trust your bank more than post offices when it comes to monetary investments
- You don't really write letters (letter?! we have e-mails now). So you don't need stamps and hey! philately was too uncool to be your hobby.
- You don't belong to any of the above categories. In fact, you do avail all the benefits of post offices. But you prefer someone else in your family to take care of all that. You are too busy for these petty things.

So if you haven't been to a post office lately, let me try to paint a picture of it (well not literally:-)) for you.

Curtains raise.

You walk into a post office. And yes, you feel like you have been transported to the 1990s. (And we are not even talking about a time machine!). One of the first things you notice is the huge number of files and the innumerable reams of yellowed paper tucked in every corner(and you thought we did away with paper huh? You recall arguing with your friends that all records were computerised these days). Next, you see those big fat monitors with grumpy faced people tapping keys on the keyboards..tap......tap......tap...... goes the sound. Please note, its not the taptaptap that happens when u type:-).Actually no offense intended to those respectable ladies and gentlemen who work in post offices. But I believe our government never bothered to provide proper training to them (at least as far as typing is concerned). So even now, after so many years after the advent of computers, the post office staff take a few seconds to locate the keys and strike the right ones.

Anyway back to the picture, you look around and find the walls painted in colors like dirty green or a funny blue (somebody help them choose the wall colors). Oh did I mention the paint peeling off at places? Or the paan stains right near the door? After staring at those dismal walls that have dampened your spirits already, you are looking for a place to sit, so that you could sort out all the papers you brought along. And what do you spot? Were you hoping to find any of those comfy couches? Oh! I feel so bad for you then because all we have here to offer you are rickety wooden benches crowded with people already. :-P

So you give up hopes of a seat, even one on the wooden bench. You move to the high desk sort of thing that you just located at the corner. Right as you walking towards it, you find another man walking up to it. By the time u reached it, he has happily strewn his letters and is using the remnants of the glue in the glue bottle. As he has left you little desk space or even elbow space, all you can do is look at his work progress or just simply look around. By now, you are already cursing yourself for not organising the papers before stepping into this amazing place (all sarcasm intended). Finally when Mr.XYZ has finished pasting stamps on all the letters (there were really too many!) he had brought along, you get to take a glance at that desk. And yes, it looks so dirty, that you wondering whether to touch it or not. But do you have an option? In spite of hating it, that's the only place where you can sort out all the papers. As you sort them out, you realise that you have the proceeds of couple of NSCs to collect, a few stamps to buy and the most important one, a few speed posts to send to those colleges you are applying for an MBA.

You are not really familiar with post offices (as is obvious from your previous actions). So you ask someone at the counter, about the counters for stamps, NSCs and Speed posts. The lady at the counter does not even bother to look at you and says 'One queue for all'. And that is exactly when you realise that those fifteen-twenty people standing sort of haphazardly are actually a part of the queue!! But just to confirm, you ask the gentleman standing in front of you if he is the last one in the queue. Seeing the mess of a queue, you politely request the rest of the people in front of you to stand in a file. And you are surprised to find that they oblige (You smile to yourself thinking all hope is not lost).

Just as you are feeling a bit optimistic, you hear a phone ring. There is a man sitting next to it. But he seems oblivious to the 'trring trring trring' sound. Or may be he is so used to it that he doesn't notice it. Someone screams 'Pick up the phone'. But he just laughs and says 'Arre let it ring. I am busy.'(smiles again, getting back to reading the newspaper) You are feeling utterly disgusted with his attitude but his desk is not close to where you are standing. So you decide to give him a piece of your mind after you are done with your work.

It takes you more than an hour for your turn to have a word with the man at the counter. You first ask for the stamps. He commands you to provide exact change. You take a look at your wallet and realise it can't save you this time. So you smile and say a hundred rupee note is all that you can give him. He gets very irritated because of your last statement and says he cannot give you eighty rupees change. Not possible. And right then you remember the letters for speed post and you tell him about those. He gives you another angry look and says 'Why didn't you say that earlier?' (Your primary school headmaster had given you a similar look quite a few years back but that was for a more serious offence.) You are still wondering what you had just said to deserve that look from the guy at the counter. He sorts through your letters and checks the addresses on them. Looks at you again and asks 'MBA admission?' You say yes. He looks at you again and says 'But these are really the top institutes. Are you sure?' A part of you is seething with anger because he has made it very clear that he doesn't think you are good enough. But you do not let your emotions take control of your facial expressions. So all you say is 'Yes' (It feels good to notice the confidence in your voice). But the man at the counter hasn't heard it and the next thing he says is 'My son made it to IIM-B last year. First try. But yes, he has been brilliant always.' You manage to mumble 'Oh good'. By now, you realise he had not even finished typing the address for the first letter for speed post. Another five minutes and he is done with all the three. You pay him the money. And this time he does not complain about the change. You talk to him about the NSCs next. You show him the papers and ask him if you can collect the money. He smiles (sadistic smile certainly) and says counter closed at 12. You cannot collect the money today. You try to argue that you had been told the counter closes at 2:30. But he says but today it has closed at 12. He gives you a very unreasonable excuse for the same. You are then told to come back next Monday and deposit your NSC certificates. 7 days after depositing those, you would be able to collect the money. You ask him why none of this is written anywhere. He replies saying that's because everyone knows it. Now you are left utterly frustrated. But there is nothing else to you can do at the moment.

Before walking out you try to take a look at the notices, circulars and posters pasted on those dismal walls which dampened your spirits at the outset. You find that even the notices have yellowed with time but no one has bothered to take them off or put new ones in their place. There is something else that catches your attention. There are 2 huge boards listing the speed post and parcel rates. So the old and the new coexist and adorn the walls.

You are done with the post office. And you really aren't looking forward to the next time you will have to visit the place.

Curtains drop.

So that was the picture of a normal day at a post office from a common man's point of view.

On a more serious note, it pains me to see how these institutions are really not living up to their name. This has really worked in the favor of the various courier services though. (most of my friends don't even know how much a speed post costs) Another sad aspect is the interaction with the post office staff. They don't pick up phone calls. Or even if they do, they just pick up the phone and keep it aside. (This has really happened with me a few times.)It's also very hard to spot them smiling to a customer. I know their job is a difficult one. But a smile would make it easier I guess. I have made several frustrating fruitless trips to the post office that were not even necessary. Most of my trips could have been avoided if the post office staff gave me clear picture of whatever was supposed to be done. But they didn't. How I wish they had 'May I help you?' counters in post offices (and yes, with a patient, polite and pleasant person in charge of it). It is difficult to manage people, but with a bit more organisation, attention and adherence to the right methods, I am sure it can be done. As for the post office interiors, I really think they need to look cleaner and brighter. Those piles of yellowed paper and files scattered here and there or mounted on top of each other don't look good in any way. They also directly or indirectly do affect the mood of the people working there. And I wonder why they don't have separate counters for different services. That would really help clear a lot of confusion. Most o these post offices seem to be short staffed. The result is the staff present feel burdened by the load of responsibilities and become irritable. The GPOs in most of the cities look impressive and are more organised. I guess the smaller post offices could take a lesson from them. And if it comes to staff shortage, there are hundreds of unemployed but capable men and women who could do the job well. Why aren't they being hired? I wonder if the employees who interact well with the customers and work better, are recognised or given any incentives for their abilities.

I recently read about an IIM grad working for his internship at a political party. Would someone be wiling to do something like that for the Indian postal system? I wonder!