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Short Essay on an Autobiography of a Postman

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After my graduation in the first division I went from pillar to post in search of a good job and after the long and tiring search, the job. I found was that of a postman. I wondered whether I had studies for this, whether my parents had spent all that they did for this. However what comes my way, was the only offer so I had no option but to accept it.

The work I do is well known to all and sundry. It is a very trivial job as I am on the move for almost the whole day. The redeeming feature of my life is that, people of all castes, all classes, all ages look forward to my arrival in their colonies.

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As soon as I enter lane of any colony, faces with hopes written on their faces welcome me everywhere. This makes me forget my tiredness but alas, when I do not bring a letter expected for long, I am cursed also. I do not at all understand why? Friends, how can I bring a letter for you when your friends and relatives do not write to you at all? Where am I at fault?

Anyway this is one of the constraints of my job. With such letters the faces of the recipients just beam with excitement when they sign for the letter. Their face full of happiness is the only source of inspiration for me in this otherwise mundane job. Oh I Yes let me tell you about one lady who gives me great happiness at least once every month.

She lives all alone and the money from her son is her only successor. In turn, this also gives me a big remuneration. Every time she gets the money order she gives me a reward from that same money and every time I get her son’s letters for her, she gives me in kind by way of blessing.

However, the other side of the picture is rather bleak and makes me to cry because sometimes I have to bring bad and unhappy news to families, whether they be of the demise of a dear one, or loss of property.

Of course I cannot help it all as, I am only doing my duty for which I have been employed and am being paid. I just cannot express them for, who will believe me when I say that, my heart charms within to breaking point when I come to know that I have brought bad news and by excitement knows no bounds when good news is conveyed. Though my work is only to pass or convey messages but the messages are given with my feelings, happy or otherwise.

The life of a postman I’d say is not very rewarding nor is it well paid, as I find it difficult to make two ends meet and make the family stay in good humour. Yet I understand that, “What cannot be cured has got to be endured.” This lesson of a lifetime keeps me going in the face of all hassles of the job.

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