TAAR aaya hai’ (a telegram has been received) — these words of the postman would make a person’s heart skip a beat. Observing the expression on the receiver’s face, I, as a child, had developed a notion that telegrams were a harbinger of unpleasant news. Being the fastest means of communication for most people before phones came into existence, there was always a sense of urgency associated with the telegram. The good news could wait but not the bad one — hence the phobia.
Compared to other technological means of communication, the telegraph system has served mankind for the longest period. Starting in November 1850, when the first experimental telegraph line in India was started between Calcutta and Diamond Harbour, this ancestor of the telephone remained in service in the country for over 160 years.
‘Blessed with a son’, was the first telegram that my maternal grandfather sent to my father, who was deployed on the border with East Pakistan in anticipation of the 1971 war. It brought happiness during those times when the news from the front was usually terrifying and tragic.
While in a boarding school, I developed cellulitis on my toe after an injury. It was a good time to go on a medical leave, only if my parents could be informed before the wound healed on its own. ‘Take me home to avoid amputation’; reading this, my dad reached the school the very next day in a borrowed car. I got scolded, but I also got to stay at home for a week!
Telegrams were an expensive affair. Thus, brevity became the essence of telegraphic messages. ‘Interview cleared medicals awaited’ was the shortest message I could shoot home from Allahabad on being selected for the National Defence Academy. A grand reception by my extended family awaited me in Chandigarh after they got the news.
Then came telephones and the ageing telegrams started losing popularity. But they were still useful for soldiers posted at places out of telephonic reach. ‘Declared fit to explore the third dimension’ — my telegram to my commanding officer in Baramulla conveyed my elation at having passed the Pilot Aptitude Battery Test.
Then there was a lull for a decade and a half. Pagers and mobile phones made the telegraph service redundant. But it was still in vogue as an official government communication service. The last telegram of my life was perhaps the best I ever received. ‘The President is pleased to approve the award of the Vishisht Seva Medal to you (.) heartiest congratulation (.)’; I received it on Republic Day from the Defence Secretary.
On July 14, 2013, the telegraph service was officially terminated in India. It has been a decade since then, but the memories of the adrenaline rush caused by telegrams remain etched in my mind.