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History in the making
The blue envelope with exotic foreign stamps which lay on the doormat was eagerly pounced upon by the children of the house. There were cries of "I bag the stamps" followed by a tug of war to stamp possession.
- By Vanaja Rao, Staff Writer
- Published: 00:00 October 6, 2006
The blue envelope with exotic foreign stamps which lay on the doormat was eagerly pounced upon by the children of the house. There were cries of "I bag the stamps" followed by a tug of war to stamp possession.
Eventually the letter was retrieved by the addressee who berated the kids for leaving their grubby fingerprints on the missive. In days of yore, a time when parents didn't have the opportunity to travel abroad, the sight of snail mail from overseas was an exciting event.
The letter was usually from a long-lost relative who had decided that keeping in touch with family was a duty one couldn't ignore. Or perhaps the sender was an old friend who was getting in touch after a long silence. But all this didn't really matter. What attracted the children was all that those stamps invoked - feelings of wonder and awe, of places which were, until now, only names in books. These had a powerful impact on one's imagination, conjuring up pictures of lands unknown.
Each of these siblings had their own stamp collection, zealously guarded from envious eyes and greedy, grabbing hands. Exchanges were made after bitter bargaining, an experience that sometimes left some wondering whether they'd been shortchanged.
Beautiful stamp
Should I have given up that beautiful stamp from Romania for what my brother swore was a rare one from New Zealand? Could his word be trusted? Remember how he took his little sister for a ride when she was all of six years old and should have known better than to part with her pocket money?
He had promised to buy her a delicious snack from his school canteen, the memory of which had him smacking his lips and glazing his eyes in ecstasy.
She had waited the whole day in a fever of anticipation for him to return from school the next day, running out to the gate every now and then to see if he were in sight.
As he rounded the corner, her heart skipped a beat (and not at the sight of her beloved sibling). As her face lit into a smile and she held out her hand for the treat, she suddenly noticed the look on his face.
The perplexed expression said it all. Her first thought was "He has forgotten". And her heart sank. But then the look of puzzlement was replaced by the enlightenment of memory. A hand went into his pocket. Her heart floated back to its proper place.
The next thing she knew was her glance lighting upon a handful of crumbs retrieved from said pocket and guilt writ large on that face. There was this garbled explanation of how his hunger pangs had got the better of him, followed by profuse apologies. The gastric juices that had started churning in anticipation in that little stomach now tasted like bile. She swallowed her tears and disappointment and then ran to their mother to complain about the conman.
The reader is requested to forgive this digression but painful memories tend to linger in one's mind long after the event.
Let us now return to the topic of stamps. Why did I think of this particular subject? Well, I read this piece on Britain's Royal Mail introducing the online postal service which allows one to buy stamps over the Net.
I agreed wholeheartedly with The Times newspaper's reaction that this was a black day for all philatelists. All one has to do is print out unique bar codes on to envelopes at the click of a mouse.
In one fell swoop, the future of the stamp has been written off. So, the next time you receive a letter, keep the envelope and discard the contents. For soon what is on the envelope will be a treasure richer than gold.
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