Open letter to the Telegram (Day 14: Ultimate Blog Challenge)

Dear Telegram/Taar,

Today is your last day. When the clock strikes 9 pm tonight, you will join the ranks of those that have made such a difference in the lives of us middle-class Indians. You've earned your rest.

Where you go, you will probably meet the 25-paise coin. Do convey my warmest regards and affection. You are both stalwarts of an era that India has left far behind. Sometimes I'm not sure if we're really happier today than we were when you were in your prime.

You have little place in an India where everyone, from children to adults, has access to their own talk time. Today, making STD calls is no longer a matter of standing in queue after 10.30 pm, when the tariff would dip to one-third and the queues jump up to more than 10 times. In the old days, I remember Dad telling me, one had to stand in a queue to send out a telegram.

I remember how crisp you were with your words. In those days, a little had to convey so much. You had codes for the general celebrations. There were codes to wish people for Independence Day, Republic Day, for each of the festivals celebrated in this great country, to celebrate births, confer blessings on married couples, wish youngsters on success in examinations, wish people a speedy recovery, wish somebody a happy retired life, to thank people for their wishes and even to reciprocate good wishes. I once heard that couples used you to inform both sets of parents that they had eloped. 

The sight of the telegram postman at the door was enough to fill us with a sense of dread and foreboding. Oh, no, what could have happened? Did old Aunt X succumb to her illness? Or did Uncle Y meet with a horrific accident? He was always one to drive rashly. And then it would turn out to be Cousin Z who had given birth to a bonny baby girl, and of course, Mum and baby were well. And we would all exhale with relief and deign to smile at the telegram man.

Sometimes, in an uneventful year, the whole year would go by without a visit from the telegram man, but he would show up at Diwali and Christmas time. Baksheesh. He would say that one word, and we would know that he had come to claim his dues for the year. Never mind that we hadn't seen him throughout the year.

So much has changed. Earlier it was Morse code that was used, then telex machines came in, only to give way to electronic printers and computers. But the greater change is in the number and variety of the options available for quick communication today. In today's India, the vegetable vendor, college student and the fish monger alike, everyone has a cellphone. Today's generation, swimming amid quick, cheaper and even free options like SMS, emails, What'sApp, Facebook etc haven't even heard of you. Even landline telephone services have become cheaper. 

Other than government channels, few people use you anymore. The cost of sending out a telegram was hiked in May 2011 to Rs 27 per 50 words. But even that was not enough of a carrot for an India where more than 900 million people own mobile phones and 120 million use the Internet. You were in any case doddering on your last legs.

One India still has a use for you, but no one has a use for that India.

For 163 years, you've served this country well. You fulfilled an important purpose. Without you, we would have floundered in a sea of chaos and lack of information.

And now it is time for you to enjoy your well-deserved rest.

Thank you, dear Telegram, for all your services to middle class India.

I hope you enjoy your final run today. And after that, it will be STOP forever.