A Pre-iPhone Memory of India
Every Diwali I think of that different time
Long before the iPhone made travel dull and predictable, sometime during the winter of 1987, I took a bed at the Sunny Guest House in New Delhi. The bed was on the roof under a layer of corrugated steel and my duffle bag served as a sleep sack in the unexpectedly cold December of Uttar Pradesh. Awaking early with not much to do but wait for my flight back to New York, I decided to walk over to the telegraph office and send a telegram to my friend Isaac in Trivandrum. Unlike me, Isaac had decided to stay in India for the full year. I’d lost my will and chosen to go back to the States early.
On the wall in most telegram offices in India at the time there was a list of the 25 or so most common telegrams. By requesting one from the list the sender could economize on price per word. A telegram typist need only send “15” which was immediately decoded to the receiver as “a warm congratulations on the day of your birth.” Standing in this line and reading from the list I thought I too would economize and send Isaac a standard telegram.
“I would like to send a ‘Number 6’ to my colleague in Trivandrum.” Number 6 would be decoded as “Id Mubarek.”
“Sir,” said the clerk, “I consider that greeting inappropriate for the present circumstances. The Ids will not…
