Where are my postmen of yore? Cycling away and whistling an out-of-key tune and tinkling bells as he goes by... Where my days of swinging on the gate waiting for a letter from my daddy to see what he has written... Any special note for me???
Where are those days where I would eagerly tear open a card from a friend to see it, to feel it... When postcards meant a lot and when words written in ink opened new worlds... Want those days back when i could see a postman and feel happy. I miss the anticipation of waiting for the greetings travelling across cities, tumbling down bags just for me... If they could talk, they would have a story for me too...
Like lost cities, these postmen are likely to get lost... I want it all back...
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