The postman of the Thar

Who carries words for us? A postman, a courier, a journalist, a royal messenger long ago, and today email and WhatsApp. But where railways and roads end, and phones and the internet do not reach, the only link is still a person on foot: a Gramin Dak Sewak (GDS), a rural postal worker.

Khetaram. He has been the only postman of the Somarad Branch Post Office in Rajasthan for fifteen years. His left shoulder droops from years of carrying the mailbag. He reaches the far-off hamlets (*dhaanis*) just 2.5 km from the Indo-Pakistan border.

Read his route like a map:

• 120 km beyond the last railhead at Barmer;
• 50 km beyond the last phone call;
• 10 km beyond where the road crumbles into sand, so soft that not even bicycles can go.

The mail is sent from Jodhpur, about 330 km away, by train and bus, and finally on his shoulders, delivered within 24 hours.

The heat. The rules say his load cannot exceed 28 kilos. In summer one delivery can mean 20 km on burning sand in his mojris (Rajasthani shoes). When it is over 50 °C, the temperature is recorded as 49.9 °C, because 50 °C would mean a state holiday. Sometimes he waits till sunset to deliver.

His only protection against burning winds and sandstorms is his khaki turban and uniform. Water is too scarce to use for washing; he can only wipe his body. Every evening, he says, there is a sand dune at his feet.

The bigger picture. Since 2001, such 'delivery agents', over three lakh of them, have been called Gramin Dak Sewaks: more than half of India Post's workforce, from the frozen deserts of Ladakh to the islands of Lakshadweep and the river communities of the north-east.