I was at Trichy a few weeks back, and in the middle of a hectic schedule in my hometown, I happened to chance on a man on a bicycle. It was the local postman. Though a number of people have been in that dress, the routine has been the same. Check the bundle in the hand, figure out the next address, push the bicycle to that house, ring the bell, say �Sir Post�, drop the letters in and repeat process!

It has been sometime since our house has been visited by one belonging to this community. Well, forget the fact that the Readers� Digest still gets to our doorstep through one of his ilk at Madras, but that is it. The Internet has taken over everything else, and with postal stamps costing a little less than a fortune, courier services have replaced the tinkle of the Postman�s bells.

Yesterday, I moved some of my old stuff from my Aunt�s place to my house. I was sifting through the bundle when my eyes fell on a bunch of envelopes, most of them grayed out with the passing of time. The bunch held old letters and greeting cards. A huge card that was presented by my �best� friend Ravishankar for my birthday, letters written by my �first best� friend Santhosh, by friends Aravind and Debannita, cards wishing me on my first job from my brother Raj and Sister-in-law Gayathri, a letter from my Head Of The Department at College thanking me for the donation I had made to College with my first salary� Our family friend Praba Aunty wishing me on my birthday all the way from Michigan, sister Vishali and friend Vasanth wishing me a Happy Birthday when we all used to work at Sankhya Technologies at Madras and letters from friends Conrad, Kannan and many others. When I went through these letters again, as I touched them, I suddenly felt a bonding with the persons who had taken the pains to think about me, and to go to the extent of sending me a note. They had to first remember me, then get the time, buy the card or take time to write, put it in an envelope, and post it.

Today, it has all become so simple, and detached� the Internet has fast replaced the beautiful art of letter writing. A few clicks on the keyboard, and a mail is ready. If email was not the best thing to happen to sentimental idiots like me, e-cards have made matters even worse. Gone are the days when I used to enjoy my birthdays with the huge pile of cards that used to build at my doorstep starting a few days before the D-day! Now, I spend my time at the yahoo, hotmail and rediffmail inboxes waiting for friends to remember me and send me an automated electronic card. Although they are cute and touching, they seem distant. There is no thrill like when the postman rings the doorbell to hand you the day�s post.

I receive hundreds of mails daily coming to one of my many mail IDs. But then, there is nothing to beat that one letter I used to receive for the week from my friend Santhosh holidaying in Kerala during School Summer vacations! Somehow, an email does not convey emotions. As far as I believe, emoticons do more damage than mails without them.

I have put off for this weekend a new task that I sincerely hope I would have the time to do. I would buy a few sheets of paper, and write. I would buy some postage stamps, and send some letters to all those people whom I could think of. But then, I know very well that I just might not do it! It is too time-consuming! And for someone who used to churn out letters to cousins and friends at the rate of 5 letters a week, each letter containing 12 sheets of paper, the demise of the art of letter writing has meant much more than just receiving colourless email. Sitting in front of the computer for about 28 hours a day, and using the in-built software of notepad, wordpad and textpad, I have forgotten to write with a pen on paper! The other day, I was penning the lyrics for a song, which was to be played as part of my alumni function at school, and was astounded at how difficult I found writing! Sitting at home, with a computer that is vacationing in Mars, I was forced to use pen and paper. Try as I may, and the words would just not flow onto the paper.

But still, I cherish to this day those days when the postman�s bicycle bell was one of the most exciting things for a boy. He brought the letters from far away friends, letters from Foreign countries had Foreign stamps on them, and he brought the Annual Exam results and the information whether I had passed or not! He brought the greeting cards for my birthday and he brought home the magazines I had subscribed to! I have to admit, I miss the postman these days�