fast-fading genuine category of Indians...
My heart bled when I saw this picture in today's paper, The Hindu. In fact every time I look at it, I get this strange feeling - of warmth for a man who can cry because something that has been his life, not only livelihood, is being shut down, of great respect for a man who has carried on steadfastly no matter the seismic changes our country is forever going through, of infinite regard for a man who though his heart is breaking, is stepping aside to make way for the modern digital world which he probably cannot even grasp, of wonder for a man who took great pride in the system of the telegram, of admiration for a man who would have not only sent people's telegrams, but would also have made a human to human contact with the person sending it, or receiving it, and of high esteem for a simple man who is a storehouse of knowledge and information about our land--a historian actually...but who quietly and steadfastly put country before self and worked with his heart, his true reward being the work itself.
He's possibly wondering if all his years were for nought?
Sending a telegram was an event....as was receiving it...but the people who worked at a telegraph office were always conscious of the effect a telegram could have and so were a special kind of people, is what I've always believed...
The thing with change is that while it is inevitable, sometimes, it rides rough-shod over the gentle old in its race to be part of the oftentimes-brash new; it doesn't show enough regard for the traditions it is replacing, it shows no sensitivity to people who have to make the transition...
