CHAPTER X
THE INDIAN POSTMAN
The conditions under which postal articles in England and India are delivered differ so vastly that a knowledge of Indian life is necessary in order to understand the difficulties that lie in the way of good delivery work in this country. The smart official walking four miles an hour and shooting the contents of his satchel into every house on his beat with a rat-a-tat is unknown. House doors in India have no knockers and no letter-boxes, and among the better class inhabitants, both European and Indian, it is customary to send messengers to the post office to fetch the unregistered mail, so that to this extent the postman's work is reduced. The balance of the articles received by him often forms a strange medley in many languages, of which perhaps he is able to read one with difficulty. In a large town like Calcutta letters are received addressed in as many as a dozen different languages, and special clerks versed in the various tongues have to be employed. Luckily people of the same race are accustomed to congregate in the same quarters of the town, and the postmen are able to get some of the local residents to assist them in deciphering many a doubtful address. In Bombay certain private delivery agencies exist, which are recognized by the Department and which work very satisfactorily. On the whole the distribution of letters to the public is performed in a leisurely fashion which is quite in accordance with the national character. One may often see a postman, with the assistance of a dozen of the literate inhabitants of the quarter, spelling out from a dirty piece of folded paper an address, which turns out to be one Gunga Din living near the temple of Hanuman in the courtyard of some ancient who has died years ago, but whose name is still perpetuated in the soil where his house once stood. Gunga Din may be dead or vanished, the quarter knows him no more, but his sister's grandnephew arrives to take the letter, and after some haggling agrees to pay the 1 anna due on it, for such letters are invariably sent bearing. This little episode being finished the postman proceeds on his beat to find another enigmatical addressee, and is it any wonder that, although his salary is often a low one, the Indian postman is one of the most expensive delivery agents in the world? He seldom delivers more than three hundred articles a day, and in the Indian business quarters of the town he gets rid of the majority of these at the post office door, since the merchants and others who expect letters always waylay the postman just as he is proceeding on his beat, knowing well that it may be many hours before he will find it convenient to visit them at their houses.
In the matter of slow delivery, however, the public are more frequently to blame for delays than the postman, especially in the case of articles which have to be signed for. Parcels, money orders or registered letters are taken at the door by a servant and, if the sahib is at his bath or busy, there is a long and tedious wait before the signed receipts are brought back. It is extraordinary how callous people are in this respect towards the interests of the Post Office and their own neighbours, while they are always ready to complain if the smallest delay or mistake occurs to any articles for themselves. It can be easily understood that where such conditions prevail, and that is all over India, fast delivery is impossible, and the very best regulations for getting the men quickly to their beats are useless when they are detained unnecessarily at every house.
COMBINED PASSENGER AND MAIL MOTOR VAN. KANGRA VALLEY SERVICE
In India most money orders are paid at the door by postmen, and in towns, where there are large payments to be made, special sets of postmen are employed for the purpose. The rules regarding the payment of money orders are very strict and, when the payees are not well-known persons, identification by a respectable resident is insisted upon. In large pilgrim resorts, like Benares, where the pilgrims are continually getting remittances and are necessarily unknown, there is a special class of professional identifiers, consisting chiefly of the innkeepers. These men for a small fee are always ready to swear to the identity of any pilgrim for whom a money order has arrived, and, strange to say, they are often ready to pay up if it is found that their identification was incorrect and that the money was paid to the wrong person, a not unfrequent occurrence.
The postman, however, has to bear the brunt in case of the identification not being complete, and his responsibility in the matter is great. The convenience to the public of having their money brought to their doors is considerable, but it is a source of continual anxiety and expense to the Post Office. Large sums of money are entrusted daily to men on small pay. When the limit, which a postman is allowed to take, is exceeded, an overseer has to accompany him on his beat. Accounts have to be kept with each of the money order postmen and must be settled before the day's cash can be closed. Complaints of short payment are frequent and necessitate detailed inquiries with usually very unsatisfactory results, while the opportunities for blackmail are unlimited. Despite these drawbacks, it would now be scarcely possible to revert to a system by which everyone who received a money order was obliged to take payment of it at a post office, although greater security for both the public and the Department would be gained thereby. In certain parts of the country rural delivery is effected with extraordinary difficulty. On the North-West frontier the village postman goes in danger of his life from trans-border tribesmen. In the forest tracts of Central India the attacks of man-eating tigers are not merely travellers' tales, but grim realities. In the riverine districts of Eastern Bengal the postman has to go from village to village by boat, and a storm on one of these immense rivers is a bad thing to face in a frail canoe. Nor is the boat journey the worst trouble; a long tramp from the bank through swampy rice and jute fields is often the only way to a village which has to be visited twice a week. It is no wonder that the village postman sometimes takes the easiest way of delivering his letters by going to the most important place in his beat on market day; for, if he cannot find the actual addressees there, he is pretty sure to find some people from the vicinity who are willing to take charge of their neighbours' correspondence, but often not too careful about delivering it. Hence the origin of much trouble, complaints and hard swearing. Half a dozen witnesses are always forthcoming to affirm that the postman visited the village in propria persona on that particular day, and to prove it the visit book with the signature of one of the perjurers is produced. How can the mere negative evidence of another half-dozen stand against these convincing proofs?
On the Malabar side of the peninsula, where a very strict form of Brahminism prevails, persons of low caste are forbidden to enter the quarters of a town occupied by Brahmins, and care has to be taken to place these quarters in the beats of high caste postmen. In Palghat there was almost a riot on one occasion when a postman of inferior caste attempted to enter a Brahmin street in the performance of his duties, and the Postmaster-General was promptly called to order by the indignant inhabitants. It was nearly a question whether he should be fined and compelled to feed a thousand beggars in accordance with the custom of the caste, but, on proving that he was an indigent member of the Indian Civil Service with a wife and family in England, he was pardoned on admitting his error and promising that no repetition of the offence should occur.