In the grey sky of early dawn stars still glowed, as happy memories light up a life that is nearing its close. An old man was walking through the town, now and again drawing his tattered clothes tighter to shield his body from the cold and biting wind. From some houses came the sound of grinding mills, and the sweet voices of women singing at their work, and the sounds helped him along his lonely way.
Except
for the occasional bark of a dog, the distant steps of a workman going
early to work, or the screech of a bird disturbed before its time, the
whole town was wrapped in deathly silence. Most of its inhabitants were
still in the arms of sleep, the sleep which grew more and more profound on
account of the intense winter cold; for the cold used sleep to extend
its sway over all things even as a false friend lulls his chosen victim
with caressing smiles.
The
old man, shivering at times but fixed of purpose, plodded on till he came out
of the town-gate on to a straight road. Along this he now went at a
somewhat slower pace, supporting himself on his old staff.
On
one side of the road was a row of trees, on the other side the
town's public garden. The sky was darker now and the cold more
intense, for the wind was blowing straight along the road, on
which they fell like frozen snow, only the faint light of the morning
star. At the end of the garden stood a handsome building of the newest
style, and the light gleamed threw the crevices of its closed doors and
windows.
Beholding
the wooden arch of this building, the old man was filled with the joy that the
pilgrim feels when he first sees the goal of his journey. On the arch hung an
old board with the newly painted letters "Post Office." The old
man went in quietly and squatted on the veranda. The voices of two or
three people busy and their routine work could be faintly heard threw the
wall.
"Police
Superintendent," a voice called sharply. The old man started at the sound,
but composed himself again to wait. But for the faith and love, that
warmed him, he could not have borne the bitter cold.
Name
after name rang out from within as the clerk read out the English addresses in
the letters and flung them to the waiting postmen. From long practise he
had acquired great speed at reading out the titles - Commissioner,
Superintendent, Diwan Sahib, Librarian - and in flinging the letters out.
In
the midst of this procedure a jesting voice from inside called, "Coachman
Ali!" The old man got up, raised his eyes to heaven in gratitude and
stepping forward put his hands to the door.
"Gokul
Bhai!"
"Yes
who is there?"
"You
called out coachman Ali's name didn't you. Here I am I have come for my
letter."
"It's
a mad man, sir, who worries us by calling everyday for letters that never
come," said the clerk to the postmaster.
The
old man went back slowly to the bench on which he had been accustomed to sit
for five long years.
Ali
had been a clever shikari. As his skill increased so did his love for the hunt,
till at last it was as impossible for him to pass a day without hunting as
it is for the opium-eater to forgo his daily portion. When Ali sighted the
earth-brown partridge, almost invisible to other eyes, the poor bird, they
said, was as good as in his bag. His sharp eyes saw the hare crouching.
Even when the dogs failed to see the creature cunningly hidden in
the yellow brown scrub, Ali's eyes would catch the sight of his ears; and
in another moment it was dead. Besides this he would often go out with his
friends, the fishermen.
But
when the evening of his life was drawing in, he left his old ways and suddenly
took a new turn. His only child, Miriam married and left him. She went off
with a soldier into his regiment in the Punjab, and for the last five
years he had no news of this daughter for whose sake alone he dragged
along a cheerless existence. Now he understood the meaning of love and
separation. He could no longer enjoy the sportsman's pleasure and laughter
at the bewildered terror of the young partridges bereft of their parents.
Although
the hunter's instinct was in his very blood and bones, such loneliness
had come into his life since the day Miriam had gone away, that now,
forgetting his sport, he would become lost in the admiration of the green
cornfield. He reflected deeply, and came to the conclusion that the whole
universe is built up through love and that the grief of separation is
inescapable. And seeing this, he sat down under a tree and wept bitterly.
From that day he had risen each morning at 4'oclock to walk to the post-office.
In
his whole life he had never received a letter, but with a devout serenity born
of hope and faith, he persevered and was always the first to arrive.
The
post office, one of the uninteresting buildings in the world, became his place
of pilgrimage. He always occupied a particular seat in a particular corner
of the building, and when the people got to know his habit they laughed at
him. The postmen began to make a game of him. Even though there was no
letter for him they would call out his name for the fun of seeing him jump
up and come to the door. But with a boundless faith and infinite patience,
he came everyday, and went away empty-handed.
While
Ali waited, peons would come for their firms' letters and he would hear
them discussing their masters' scandals. These smart young peons in their
spotless turbans and creaking shoes were always eager to express
themselves. Meanwhile, the door would be thrown open and the post-master,
a man with a face as sad and as inexpressive as a pumpkin, would be seen
sitting on his chair inside. There was no glimmer of animation in his
features; such men usually prove to be village schoolmasters, office
clerks or postmasters.
One
day, he was there as usual and did not move from his seat when the door
was opened.
"Police
Commissioner!" the clerk called out, and a young fellow stepped forward
briskly for the letters.
"Superintendent!"
Another voice called. Another peon came. And so the clerk, like
a worshipper of Vishnu, repeated his customary thousand names.
At
last they had all gone. Ali got up too and saluting the post-office as though
it housed some precious relic, went off. A pitiable figure a century
behind his time.
"That
fellow," asked the post-master "is he mad?"
"Who,
sir? Oh, yes," answered the clerk "no matter what the weather is he
has been here everyday for the last five years. But he doesn't get many
letters."
"I
can well understand that! Who does he think will have time to write a letter
everyday?"
"But
he is a bit touched sir. In the old days he committed many sins; and maybe he
shed some blood within sacred precincts and is paying for it now,"
the postman added in support of his statement.
"Mad-men
are strange people," the postmaster said.
"Yes.
Once I saw a postman in Ahmedabad who did absolutely nothing but make little
heaps of dust. And another had a habit of going to the river bed in order to
pour water on a certain stone everyday!"
"Oh!
That's nothing" chimed in another. "I knew one madman who paced up
and down all day long, another who never ceased declaiming poetry and a
third who would slap himself on the cheek and then begin to cry because he
was being beaten."
And
everyone in the post office began to talk of lunacy. All working class people
have the habit of taking periodic rests by joining in general discussion
for a few minutes. After listening a while, the postmaster got up and
said, "It seems as though the mad live in a world of their own
making. To them perhaps we too appear mad. The mad-man's world is rather
like the poet's, I should think!"
He
laughed as he spoke the last words, looking at one of the clerks who
wrote indifferent verse. Then he went out and the office became still
again.
For
several days Ali had not come to the post-office. There was no one with enough
sympathy or understanding to guess the reason, but all were curious to know
what had stopped the old man. At last he came again; but it was a struggle
for him to breathe and on his face were clear signs of approaching end. That
day he could not contain his impatience.
"Master
Sahib", he begged the post-master, "have you a letter from my
Miriam?"
The
postmaster wanted to get out to the country, and was in a hurry.
"What
a pest you are, brother!" he exclaimed.
"My
name is Ali," answered Ali absent-mindedly.
"I
know! I know! But do you think we've got your Miriam's name registered?"
"Then
please note it down, brother. It will be useful if a letter should come when I
am not here." For how should the villager who had spent
three-quarters of his life hunting know that Miriam's name was not worth a
pice to anyone but her father?
The
postmaster was beginning to lose his temper. "Have you no sense?" he
cried.
"Get
away! Do you think we're going to eat your letter when it comes?" and he
walked off hastily. Ali came out very slowly, turning after every few
steps to gaze at the post office.
His
eyes were filled with tears of helplessness, for his patience was exhausted,
even though he still had faith. Yet how could he still hope to hear from
Miriam?
Ali
heard one of the clerks coming up behind him, and turned to him.
"Brother!"
he said.
The
clerk was surprised, but being a decent fellow he said, "Well!"
"Here,
look at this!" and Ali produced an old tin box and emptied five
golden guineas into the surprised clerk's hands. "Do not look so
startled," he continued.
"They
will be useful to you, and they can never be to me. But will you do
one thing?"
"What?"
"What
do you see up there?" said Ali, pointing to the sky.
"Heaven."
"Allah
is there, and in His presence I am giving you this money. When it comes,
you must forward my Miriam's letter to me."
"But
where --- where am I supposed to send it?" asked the utterly bewildered
clerk.
"To
my grave."
"What?"
"Yes.
It is true. Today is my last day: my very last, alas! And I have not seen
Miriam, I have had no letter from her." There were tears in Ali's eyes as
the clerk slowly left him and went on his way with the five golden guineas
in his pocket.
Ali
was never seen again, and no one troubled to inquire after him.
One
day, however, trouble came to the postmaster. His daughter lay ill in another
town, and he was anxiously waiting for news of her. The post was brought in,
and the letters piled on the table. Seeing an envelope of the colour and
shape he expected, the postmaster eagerly snatched it up. It was addressed to
Coachman Ali, and he dropped it as though it had given him an electric
shock. The haughty temper of the official had quite left him in his sorrow and
anxiety, and had laid bare his human heart. He knew at once that this was
the letter the old man had been waiting for: it must be from his daughter
Miriam.
"Lakshmi
Das!" called the postmaster, for such was the name of the clerk to whom
Ali had given his money.
"Yes,
sir?"
"This
is for your old coachman,Ali. Where is he now?"
"I
will find out, sir."
The
postmaster did not receive his own letter all that day. He worried all night,
and getting up at three, went to sit in the office. "When Ali comes at four
o' clock," he mused, "I will give him the letter myself."
For
now the postmaster understood Ali's heart and his very soul. After spending but
a single night in suspense, anxiously waiting for news of his daughter, his
heart was brimming with sympathy for the poor old man who had spent his
nights in the same suspense for the last five years. At the stroke of five he
heard a soft knock on the door: he felt sure it was Ali. He rose quickly
from his chair, his suffering father's heart recognizing another, and flung the
door wide open.
"Come
in, brother Ali," he cried, handing the letter to the meek old man, bent
double with age, who was standing outside. Ali was leaning on a stick, and
the tears were wet on his face as they had been when the clerk left him.
But his features had been hard then, and now they were softened by lines of
kindliness. He lifted his eyes and in them was a light so unearthly that
the postmaster shrank back in fear and astonishment.
Lakshmi
Das had heard the postmaster's words as he came towards the office from another
quarter. "Who was that, sir? Old Ali?" he asked. But the postmaster
took no notice of him. He was staring with wide-open eyes at the doorway from
which Ali had disappeared. Where could he have gone? At last he turned to
Lakshmi Das. "Yes, I was speaking to Ali," he said.
"Old
Ali is dead, sir. But give me his letter."
"What!
But when? Are you sure, Lakshmi Das?"
"Yes,
that is so," broke in a postman who had just arrived. "Ali died three
months ago."
The
postmaster was bewildered. Miriam's letter was still lying near the door, Ali's
image was still before his eyes. He listened to Lakshmi Das's recital of
the last interview, but he could still not doubt the reality of the knock
on the door and the tears in Ali's eyes. He was perplexed. Had he really
seen Ali? Had his imagination deceived him? Or had it perhaps been Lakshmi
Das?
The
daily routine began. The clerk read out the addresses - Police
Commissioner, Superintendent, Librarian - and flung the letters deftly.
But
the postmaster now watched them as eagerly as though each contained a warm,
beating heart. He no longer thought of them in terms of envelopes and
postcards. He saw the essential human worth of a letter.
That
evening you could have seen Lakshmi Das and the postmaster walking with slow
steps to Ali's grave. They laid the letter on it and turned back.
"Lakshmi
Das, were you indeed the first to come to the office this morning?"
"Yes,
sir, I was the first."
"Then
how…. No. I don't understand…."
"What,
sir?"
"Oh,
never mind," the postmaster said shortly. At the office he parted from
Lakshmi Das and went in. The newly-wakened father's heart in him was
reproaching him for having failed to understand Ali's anxiety, for now he
himself had to spend another night of restless anxiety. Tortured by doubt
and remorse, he sat down in the glow of the charcoal sigri to wait.
- What time of day does the story
begin?
a) Early morning b) Late night c) Noon d) Evening - What is the primary emotion of
Ali as he walks to the post office daily?
a) Anger b) Anxiety c) Hope d) Indifference - Why did Ali stop hunting?
a) He became ill b) His daughter left him c) He lost interest d) He lost his eyesight - What does Ali equate the grief
of separation to?
a) A punishment b) A universal truth c) An illusion d) A dream - Why did the postmen make fun of
Ali?
a) He was wealthy b) He came daily for a letter c) He quarreled with them d) He dressed unusually - How long did Ali wait at the
post office every day?
a) Two years b) Five years c) Ten years d) A month - What does the post office
symbolize for Ali?
a) A place of ridicule b) A temple of faith c) A workplace d) A hunting ground - What profession did Ali have
before retiring?
a) A fisherman b) A farmer c) A shikari d) A clerk - What motivated Ali to visit the
post office every day?
a) To meet friends b) To receive a letter from Miriam c) To complain d) To collect his pension - How did Ali’s perspective on
hunting change over time?
a) He became more passionate b) He regretted causing pain c) He wanted to teach others d) He forgot about hunting - What was the postmaster’s
initial reaction to Ali’s request for his letter?
a) Sympathy b) Annoyance c) Understanding d) Joy - What did Ali give to the clerk
before passing away?
a) A letter b) His staff c) Five golden guineas d) His hunting rifle - How does the postmaster’s
attitude change after his own experience of waiting for news?
a) He becomes more compassionate b) He becomes more indifferent c) He resigns from his job d) He confronts Ali’s family - What lesson does the postmaster
learn by the end of the story?
a) Patience is a virtue b) Empathy comes from experience c) Hard work pays off d) Family is everything - What does the postmaster do
with Miriam’s letter after Ali’s death?
a) Keeps it in his drawer b) Destroys it c) Places it on Ali’s grave d) Sends it back to Miriam - Who is Lakshmi Das in the
story?
a) Ali’s neighbor b) A clerk at the post office c) A postman d) A fisherman - How does Ali’s faith reflect
his character?
a) It shows his stubbornness b) It highlights his resilience c) It demonstrates his wealth d) It reveals his anger - What does the letter symbolize
in the story?
a) Miscommunication b) Lost opportunities c) Love and longing d) Professionalism - How did the villagers perceive
Ali’s daily visits to the post office?
a) They admired him b) They mocked him c) They ignored him d) They supported him - What is the tone of the story?
a) Humorous b) Melancholic c) Adventurous d) Inspirational - Why does the postmaster begin
to understand Ali’s pain?
a) He reads Ali’s diary b) He experiences similar anxiety c) He hears stories about Ali d) He meets Miriam - What does the phrase “the mad
live in a world of their own making” signify in the story?
a) Ali’s love for his daughter b) The postmaster’s guilt c) The postmen’s ridicule d) Human perseverance - What literary device is most
prominent in “The Letter”?
a) Irony b) Foreshadowing c) Allegory d) Symbolism - How does nature play a role in
the story?
a) It provides comfort b) It mirrors human emotions c) It creates conflict d) It symbolizes power - What is the central theme of
the story?
a) The futility of human efforts b) The bond of love and faith c) The unpredictability of life d) The importance of duty
Answer Key:
- a) Early morning
- c) Hope
- b) His daughter left him
- b) A universal truth
- b) He came daily for a letter
- b) Five years
- b) A temple of faith
- c) A shikari
- b) To receive a letter from
Miriam
- b) He regretted causing pain
- b) Annoyance
- c) Five golden guineas
- a) He becomes more compassionate
- b) Empathy comes from
experience
- c) Places it on Ali’s grave
- b) A clerk at the post office
- b) It highlights his resilience
- c) Love and longing
- b) They mocked him
- b) Melancholic
- b) He experiences similar
anxiety
- d) Human perseverance
- d) Symbolism
- b) It mirrors human emotions
- b) The bond of love and faith
- Ring out: Sound loudly and clearly
- Read out: Read something loudly
- Call out: Ask someone to come
- Accustom to: Make familiar with
- Go off: Leave a place
- Get up: Stand after sitting,
kneeling; to rise
- Come out: Appear
- Snatch at: Try to take hold of abruptly
- Find out: Get information
- Break in: Interrupt
The matching
of idioms with their meanings:
- Pull wool over people's eyes – to deceive someone
- Sit on the fence – someone who does not want to
choose or make a decision
- Take with a grain of salt – to not take what someone
says too seriously
- Whole nine yards – everything; all of it
- Bite off more than you can chew – to take on a task that is
too much for you to handle
- Scratch someone's back – to help someone out with the
assumption that they will return the favour in the future
- A short fuse – have a quick temper
- A taste of your own medicine – bad treatment deservedly
received for treating other people badly
- Butterflies in my stomach – to be nervous
- Hit the books – to study
Now let’s
use these idioms in sentences:
- Pull wool over people's eyes: He tried to pull the wool
over my eyes by pretending he didn’t know about the meeting.
- Sit on the fence: Jane kept sitting on the
fence when we asked her to choose between the two options.
- Take with a grain of salt: I take everything he says
with a grain of salt because he tends to exaggerate.
- Whole nine yards: They went the whole nine
yards to make sure the wedding was perfect.
- Bite off more than you can chew: I think you’ve bitten off
more than you can chew with that big project.
- Scratch someone's back: She helped me with my
presentation, and I’m sure she expects me to scratch her back when
she needs help.
- A short fuse: Be careful around him; he has
a short fuse and gets angry very quickly.
- A taste of your own medicine: After all the gossiping, she
got a taste of her own medicine when everyone started talking
behind her back.
- Butterflies in my stomach: I always get butterflies
in my stomach before giving a speech.
- Hit the books: You should hit the books
if you want to pass the final exams.
A brief discussion on these
customer relations questions:
1.
Who is a customer?
A customer is an individual or organization that purchases goods or services
from a business, either on a one-time or recurring basis.
2.
What does the customer
expect from any service?
Customers generally expect quality service, prompt attention, clear
communication, reliability, and value for their money. They also seek a
positive experience and support when needed.
3.
Why is the customer
very important for any business?
Customers are crucial because they generate revenue, provide feedback for
improvement, and help build brand loyalty. Without customers, no business would
be able to sustain itself.
4.
How do you treat a
customer who may not always be doing business with or bringing profit to an
organization?
Even if a customer is not currently purchasing or generating profit, it’s
important to treat them with respect, provide assistance, and maintain a
positive relationship. They might become a future customer or refer others,
which can eventually lead to profit.
5.
Why cannot any company
afford to disregard its customers for any reason whatsoever?
Disregarding customers can result in lost business, damage to reputation, and
decreased customer loyalty. Word-of-mouth and online reviews can spread
dissatisfaction, leading to the loss of both current and potential customers.
Group
discussions on workplace skills:
1.
How are employees
supposed to spend their time in an office? How do organizations make it
possible for employees to want to do their jobs well?
Employees should focus on productive tasks aligned with company goals.
Organizations motivate employees by offering support, recognition, and a
positive work culture.
2.
Do employees sometimes
forget the very purpose for which they are employed? Why do you think this
happens? What could be some of the reasons for employees to not be considerate
of their customers?
Yes, employees may forget their purpose due to burnout, lack of engagement, or
poor management. This leads to neglecting customer needs.
3.
What do customers feel
about indifferent and careless employees? Why do you think it is important for
a customer to feel good about an employee they interact with?
Customers feel frustrated and undervalued. A positive interaction is essential
for customer satisfaction and loyalty.
4.
How do you think
employees and customers can build good relationships between themselves? How do
you think organizations benefit from such relationships?
Employees build good relationships by being respectful and helpful.
Organizations benefit through customer loyalty, repeat business, and positive
reviews.
In
a paragraph of 150 words, write about an employee who did not treat his/her
customer well on account of the latter's old age. The workplace may be any
context, not necessarily government offices.
"Case
Study: Disrespecting the Elderly – A Lesson in Customer Service"
At
a local supermarket, I witnessed an incident involving an elderly customer and
a young employee. The elderly customer, struggling to carry her bags,
approached the counter to ask for assistance. The employee, seeming impatient,
ignored her request and rudely told her to manage on her own. He rolled his
eyes when she asked about a product's price and made no effort to help her
further. The customer, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable, quietly left the
store without any support. It was clear that the employee had no empathy for
the elderly woman. This experience left a bad impression on the customer and
others who witnessed the interaction. The employee failed to understand that
every customer deserves respect and courtesy, regardless of age. If treated
with kindness, the elderly woman would have felt valued, and the employee could
have built a positive reputation for customer service.
Here are a
few additional proverbs from different cultures:
o
"A
person who does not know how to smile will not be able to sell anything." (Indian)
o
"The
heart that loves is always young." (Greek)
o
"Patience
is a key to every door."
(Arabic)
The proverb I like the most is "Treat
others the way you want to be treated" (English), as it emphasizes
empathy and understanding, which are crucial for building lasting
relationships, especially with customers. Treating others with respect and
kindness is a universal principle that fosters positive outcomes for both
parties.
"To
keep a customer demands as much skill as to win one." (American)
This
proverb, "To keep a customer demands as much skill as to win
one," emphasizes that getting customers is just the first step.
Once customers choose to do business with you, it is important to focus on
keeping them happy and satisfied. This requires consistent effort, excellent
service, and careful attention to their needs. Simply attracting customers with
a good offer or product is not enough if you want them to return. To build
long-lasting relationships, businesses need to keep customers engaged, listen
to their concerns, and provide quality service. By doing so, you show that you
value their loyalty, which leads to repeat business and positive word-of-mouth
referrals.
The
significance of effective customer relations for a harmonious life:
Effective customer relations play a
crucial role in creating a harmonious life, not only in business but also in
personal interactions. When we treat others with respect, empathy, and
patience, we foster trust and cooperation. Whether in professional or personal
settings, positive interactions help build long-lasting relationships. In
business, good customer service leads to loyalty, repeat customers, and a
positive reputation. In daily life, being considerate and understanding of
others’ needs cultivates a peaceful environment. If everyone practices
effective communication and empathy, conflicts are minimized, and cooperation
flourishes, making life more harmonious. Ultimately, good customer relations
are about mutual respect, understanding, and meeting each other’s needs, which
leads to greater satisfaction and fulfillment for all involved.
