Post Office Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

Every time I think of entering a Post Office around Bandra,
I shrink a bit and my memory throws me back by three years.

Sameer had taken me to a small one near our home,
So I can send a registered cover to Government,
I think to convey consent to be on the board of IIFL.

Sorry, I said, and smiled at the customer in the post office,
The woman barked at me with an angry facial gesture
Which triggered my anger with never a thought for decorum,
“Do I have eyes at the back of my head to know that
You are behind me, close: my eyes are not at the back? ”
I said and glared at her, expecting she will pipe down.

She didn’t, and said something more hot, turning aside:
Like a dog not willing to let go of the stranger in territory,
I continued to exchange harsh words and in a loud voice,
Simply reiterating my words to express my feelings.

Thirty-seven and a half years of administrative life
In Government, in positions of power, and protected,
Attended to, and on top of the pyramid always,
Had cut me off completely from being simply nice,
An ordinary person in the midst of ordinary people
And capable of reacting coolly to normal situations?