The post peril

Settling The Mano A Mano Between Instaholics And Retrophiles

Avni Munjal
AIS Gurugram 43, X D

It was a fine Sunday morning as Siya set out to post her letter. Sure, it wasn’t an exercise by choice, but she couldn’t deny having enjoyed it. She wanted to thank her mom for the idea, but knew what would follow – “I told you, it is so much better than being glued to social media.” Nonetheless, she made her way to the mailbox…
The Stamped Post: (Proudly) Can you see? She is carrying me with utmost care and excitement as seen by her expression. I love this part where I shall go sliding! But wait! Why would you take that electronic box-thing out now? No, this is my moment; pay attention to thy pen pal letter, which has been lovingly crafted. Thou shalt attempt all the horrible ‘poses’ thou make afterwards! Hmph! I know the drill; thou will go to that pink-purple thing, do some witchcraft to click my photograph, and well, post it the ‘modern’ way first and the real way after, right?
The Hashtagged Post: Man, it feels so great to be back. Heya, old frenemy! Las’ time I saw yeh, feels ages ago. What was it, two centuries? My, how have you grown! That reminds me, I haven’t introduced meself! Well, (rolling his eyes) do I really need to? I am ye’re greatest addiction, a Social Media Post.
The Stamped Post: There’s no need for that pomposity, dear fellow. Feels suffocating locked in that phone, doesn’t it? And for seeing me after long, that is because Siya was busy decorating me intricately. She wanted to make me the most beautiful thing ever. Unlike thou, making me takes time and effort. Also, one doesn’t get scolded by the elders if they use me, nor am I the cause of every illness this planet shall see.
The Hashtagged Post: (Ignoring the insult) Oh, well! That’s the point, ain’t it? What else is yer work than ter let her express her (mockingly) emotions, feelings, sorrows, joys, followers, blah blah blah? That’s what I let her do in the spur of the moment. An’ instead of travellin’ all me life, her friends get me within seconds an’ even comment on me. An’ most importantly, she don’t need to spend money on me.
The Stamped Post: Oh, really? Did I miss the part where the box-thing you come in started growing on trees? And what would thou even know about the sweet fruits of adversity? It’s a whole other feeling to be able to travel the exciting world and to look at the receiver treating thou like a mother gently holding her newborn child. And paying for you doesn’t even make any cents (pun intended).
The Hashtagged Post: How funny! (rolling his eyes again). Now, are yeh done? (fake yawn) All those thou-thys bout yer greatness is makin’ me sick. Want to know something shocking? Ye’re made of paper! Ha! And of course, yeh are tear-able (grinning broadly). My dear bloke, if I could, I’d tear ye apart and crush ye under my foot. Ouch, did that hurt ye, dear pal?
The Stamped Post: You should have thought twice before offending me. Who art thou without that nasty new personality like thyne, the Internet? Yes, sire, (mocking him bitterly) ye’re nothin’ withou’ him.
The Hashtagged Post: Yeah (angrily), an’ what are yeh withou’ that human postma-
Siya closes her phone, keeps it in her pocket.
The Stamped Post: Finally, what a headach-ahhh….
A thud resonates in the surrounding as the letter is slipped inside the mailbox, ready to begin its journey abroad, after having a chit-chat with his frenemy.