Greentext · 4 minTwenty Postcards

>be me, 11 years

>1996, rajahmundry

>i have never got a letter in my life

>letters come to nanna, to amma, to the house

>never to me

>then one morning the postman rings his cycle bell twice

>"letter for chinna babu" he says

>he says my name

>on a postcard

>amma gives it to me like it is a certificate

>my name in blue ink, our address, rajahmundry

>i turn it over

>on the back, very small writing, every space full

>at the top "sri venkateswara swamy prasadam"

>"this card has gone round the world eleven times"

>"copy it twenty times and post within nine days"

>"a teacher in eluru sent twenty copies, he got promotion in nine days"

>"a businessman in madras sent ten copies only, his shop caught fire"

>"a man in nellore tore this card"

>"in nine days he lost his job and his wife went to her mother's house"

>"do not break the chain"

>"do not keep this card"

>no name at the bottom

>the handwriting is like a grown up's, slanting

>i read it four times

>i put it under my pillow

>i take it out and read it again

>amma asks "who wrote to you"

>i say "a friend"

>i do not have a friend who writes

>i have nine days

>postcard is twenty five paise in 1996

>twenty postcards is five rupees

>i have seven rupees and fifty paise in my compass box

>saved for the cricket ball, the good season ball

>i think about the man in nellore

>i think about his wife going to her mother's house

>i think about our house

>i go to the post office after school

>"twenty postcards" i say

>the man behind the window looks at me over his glasses

>"twenty?" he says

>"school project" i say

>he gives me twenty, i give him five rupees, all in coins

>that night i copy

>after homework, after dinner, under the bed lamp

>the card is very long

>by the fifth one my hand is paining

>by the tenth one i start making the writing smaller

>by the fifteenth i leave out the businessman in madras

>i feel bad and put him back in the sixteenth

>for addresses i take amma's address diary from the almirah

>the brown one with the rubber band

>i choose carefully

>people far away, so it goes round the world

>atta in kakinada

>pedda mama in hyderabad

>chinna mama in vizag

>the cousins in guntur

>tatayya in our village near amalapuram

>tatayya is 76, he lives alone with the buffalo since ammamma died

>he writes to nanna every month on an inland letter

>i put tatayya last, the twentieth card

>i post all twenty in the red box near the temple

>the box makes a nice sound when they drop

>nine days pass

>nothing bad happens

>nanna does not lose his job

>amma does not go to her mother's house

>the cricket ball season starts, i do not have the ball

>i am a little proud

>three weeks later

>the postman rings his cycle bell twice

>"chinna babu" he says

>then he says "and amma garu"

>and "and ayyagaru"

>he gives amma a bundle with a rubber band

>seven postcards

>amma reads the first one

>"sri venkateswara swamy prasadam"

>she reads the second one

>"sri venkateswara swamy prasadam"

>atta from kakinada

>chinna mama from vizag, his writing is very bad

>the guntur cousins, two separate cards, they fight about everything

>each one copied twenty times and sent one back to us

>because we were in their address book also

>amma is laughing so much she sits down on the step

>nanna comes home from office

>he takes a postcard from his shirt pocket

>"look at this nonsense" he says

>"the clerk in my office got one, he sent one to me"

>"sri venkateswara swamy prasadam"

>amma laughs so much she has to drink water

>i stand in the corner very small

>i do not say anything

>nobody knows it started with me

>the seventh card in the bundle is to me

>the writing is shaking

>i know it before i read it, it is tatayya

>he has copied the whole thing, every line, even the businessman in madras

>the writing gets bigger and bigger at the end, he is running out of space

>and at the very bottom, in the corner, sideways, he has added

>"chinna, i sent twenty"

>"one to you because you are my lucky one"

>"do it properly, i am 76, i cannot take any risk"

>i read it under the bed lamp that night

>i did not copy it

>i kept it in the compass box

>where the cricket ball money used to be

>tatayya died that november, in his sleep, the buffalo was tied, the lamp was lit

>nanna went to the village for thirteen days

>i was not allowed to go, exams

>sometimes i think about the man in nellore

>sometimes about the twentieth card

>the only letter i ever got from tatayya

>is a chain letter

>it still has the businessman in madras in it

>i have it in a plastic cover now

>i have never forwarded it