Curtains down for 163

The 163-year old telegram service in the country - the harbinger of good and bad news for generations of Indians - is dead.

Once the fastest means of communication for millions of people, the humble telegram was today buried without any requiem but for the promise of preserving the last telegram as a museum piece.

Nudged out by technology - SMS, emails, mobile phones - the iconic service gradually faded into oblivion with less and less people taking recourse to it.

Started in 1850 on an experimental basis between Koklata and Diamond Harbour, it was opened for use by the British East India Company the following year. In 1854, the service was made available to the public.

It was such an important mode of communication in those days that revolutionaries fighting for the country's independence used to cut the telegram lines to stop the British from communicating.

Old timers recall that receiving a telegram would be an event itself and the messages were normally opened with a sense of trepidation as people feared for the welfare of their near and dear ones.

For jawans and armed forces seeking leave or waiting for transfer or joining reports, it was a quick and handy mode of communication.

Lawyers vouched for the telegrams as they were registered under the Indian Evidence Act and known for their credibility when presented in court.

Bollywood was not to be left behind and immortalised the service with many sudden turns in films being announced by the advent of the 'taar'.

Pockets of rural India still use the service but with the advent of technology and newer means of communication, the telegram found itself edged out. "The service will start at 8 am and close by 9 pm tonight," BSNL CMD R K Upadhyay said. "The service will not be available from Monday."

State-run telecom firm BSNL had decided to discontinue telegrams following a huge shortfall in revenue. The service generated about Rs 75 lakh annually, compared with the cost of over Rs 100 crore to run and manage it.

Telecom and IT Minister Kapil Sibal had said last month that "We will bid it a very warm farewell and may be the last telegram sent should be a museum piece. That's the way in which we can bid it a warm farewell."

There are about 75 telegram centres in the country, with less than 1,000 employees to manage them. BSNL will absorb these employees and deploy them to manage mobile services, landline telephony and broadband services.

Faced with declining revenue, the government had revised telegram charges in May 2011, after a gap of 60 years. Charges for inland telegram services were hiked to Rs 27 per 50 words.

Within a short time of BSNL handling telegram services in 1990s, the PSU had a rift with the Department of Posts following which telegrams were accepted as phonograms from various villages and other centres from telephone consumers.

India's telegram service goes dark after 163 years

NEW DELHI - For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

"People came in droves to send telegrams. We worked round the clock. I don't think we went home for days," he recalled.

Over the years, Morse code gave way to telex machines and teleprinters, and finally electronic printers and computers.

Before India overhauled its erratic landline network in the 1980s and 1990s - and well before the mobile phone revolution - the telegram was the only dependable means of conveying news across this vast nation.

At its peak less than three decades ago, a network of 45,000 telegraph offices served the sprawling country. Now there are only 75.

At the Kashmere Gate office, the growing irrelevance of the telegram is reflected in the flyblown calendars on walls graying with age, soot-blackened ceiling fans and a dust-covered chart showing 43 commonly used telegram messages to help customers find the shortest one for the occasion.

For the rare telegram user, it's the end of a way of life.

Abhilasha Kumari, a New Delhi-based sociologist, recalled the crucial role telegrams played in her small hometown of Sitamau in central India.

"The telegram was the only source for getting news quickly. So whenever there was any development in the large extended family - whether it was a death, or a birth, or news about that much-coveted government job, the telegram was the quickest way to get the news," she said.

In countless remote towns and villages, the telegraph worker knew everyone - and their family business.

Kumari recalled the time a telegram informed her family that a cousin died in an accident.

"The postmaster himself came to deliver the telegram. We saw him at the door, and realized something drastic had happened," she said.

While most of the remaining telegraph workers will be given new assignments in the telecommunications company, the informal economy that thrived on the telegram will disappear.

For nearly 35 years, Jagdish Chand Sharma has made a living helping illiterate customers write telegrams from his mat in a dusty corner of the Kashmere Gate office's patio.

In the 1980s, he would write about 150 telegrams a day, conveying the joys and sorrows of his customers with brevity and precision - for a small fee.

Today, he might get three customers on a good day.

Sharma has already equipped himself with packaging material and sealing wax, and has switched to helping people send parcels and mail packages.

"But it's not the same. With a telegram, you instantly made a connection with people when you wrote out a telegram for them," said Sharma, idly swatting flies as he waited in the sweltering heat, a pile of dog-eared telegram forms gathering dust beside him.

Since the June 12 government announcement about the telegram's end, telegraph offices across the country have seen a small rush of people wanting to send some last historic messages.

"We've decided to send telegrams to each other," said Tarun Jain, an IT professional, who had come to the telegraph office with a friend. "Soon this will all be history. Our last telegrams will become collector's items."

After 163 years, India's telegram service goes silent

NIRMALA GEORGETHE ASSOCIATED PRESS

NEW DELHI - For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

"People came in droves to send telegrams. We worked round the clock. I don't think we went home for days," he recalled.

Over the years, Morse code gave way to telex machines and teleprinters, and finally electronic printers and computers.

Before India overhauled its erratic landline network in the 1980s and 1990s - and well before the mobile phone revolution - the telegram was the only dependable means of conveying news across this vast nation.

At its peak less than three decades ago, a network of 45,000 telegraph offices served the sprawling country. Now there are only 75.

At the Kashmere Gate office, the growing irrelevance of the telegram is reflected in the flyblown calendars on walls greying with age, soot-blackened ceiling fans and a dust-covered chart showing 43 commonly used telegram messages to help customers find the shortest one for the occasion.

For the rare telegram user, it's the end of a way of life.

Abhilasha Kumari, a New Delhi-based sociologist, recalled the crucial role telegrams played in her small hometown of Sitamau in central India.

"The telegram was the only source for getting news quickly. So whenever there was any development in the large extended family - whether it was a death, or a birth, or news about that much-coveted government job, the telegram was the quickest way to get the news," she said.

In countless remote towns and villages, the telegraph worker knew everyone - and their family business.

Kumari recalled the time a telegram informed her family that a cousin died in an accident.

"The postmaster himself came to deliver the telegram. We saw him at the door, and realized something drastic had happened," she said.

While most of the remaining telegraph workers will be given new assignments in the telecommunications company, the informal economy that thrived on the telegram will disappear.

For nearly 35 years, Jagdish Chand Sharma has made a living helping illiterate customers write telegrams from his mat in a dusty corner of the Kashmere Gate office's patio.

In the 1980s, he would write about 150 telegrams a day, conveying the joys and sorrows of his customers with brevity and precision - for a small fee.

Today, he might get three customers on a good day.

Sharma has already equipped himself with packaging material and sealing wax, and has switched to helping people send parcels and mail packages.

"But it's not the same. With a telegram, you instantly made a connection with people when you wrote out a telegram for them," said Sharma, idly swatting flies as he waited in the sweltering heat, a pile of dog-eared telegram forms gathering dust beside him.

Since the June 12 government announcement about the telegram's end, telegraph offices across the country have seen a small rush of people wanting to send some last historic messages.

"We've decided to send telegrams to each other," said Tarun Jain, an IT professional, who had come to the telegraph office with a friend. "Soon this will all be history. Our last telegrams will become collector's items."

03:48ET 12-07-13

India's telegram service goes dark after 163 years

NEW DELHI - For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

After 163 years, India's telegram service goes silent

Nirmala George, After163yearsIndiastelegramserviceto.blogspot.com

NEW DELHI - For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

"People came in droves to send telegrams. We worked round the clock. I don't think we went home for days," he recalled.

Over the years, Morse code gave way to telex machines and teleprinters, and finally electronic printers and computers.

Before India overhauled its erratic landline network in the 1980s and 1990s - and well before the mobile phone revolution - the telegram was the only dependable means of conveying news across this vast nation.

At its peak less than three decades ago, a network of 45,000 telegraph offices served the sprawling country. Now there are only 75.

At the Kashmere Gate office, the growing irrelevance of the telegram is reflected in the flyblown calendars on walls greying with age, soot-blackened ceiling fans and a dust-covered chart showing 43 commonly used telegram messages to help customers find the shortest one for the occasion.

For the rare telegram user, it's the end of a way of life.

Abhilasha Kumari, a New Delhi-based sociologist, recalled the crucial role telegrams played in her small hometown of Sitamau in central India.

"The telegram was the only source for getting news quickly. So whenever there was any development in the large extended family - whether it was a death, or a birth, or news about that much-coveted government job, the telegram was the quickest way to get the news," she said.

In countless remote towns and villages, the telegraph worker knew everyone - and their family business.

Kumari recalled the time a telegram informed her family that a cousin died in an accident.

"The postmaster himself came to deliver the telegram. We saw him at the door, and realized something drastic had happened," she said.

While most of the remaining telegraph workers will be given new assignments in the telecommunications company, the informal economy that thrived on the telegram will disappear.

For nearly 35 years, Jagdish Chand Sharma has made a living helping illiterate customers write telegrams from his mat in a dusty corner of the Kashmere Gate office's patio.

In the 1980s, he would write about 150 telegrams a day, conveying the joys and sorrows of his customers with brevity and precision - for a small fee.

Today, he might get three customers on a good day.

Sharma has already equipped himself with packaging material and sealing wax, and has switched to helping people send parcels and mail packages.

"But it's not the same. With a telegram, you instantly made a connection with people when you wrote out a telegram for them," said Sharma, idly swatting flies as he waited in the sweltering heat, a pile of dog-eared telegram forms gathering dust beside him.

Since the June 12 government announcement about the telegram's end, telegraph offices across the country have seen a small rush of people wanting to send some last historic messages.

"We've decided to send telegrams to each other," said Tarun Jain, an IT professional, who had come to the telegraph office with a friend. "Soon this will all be history. Our last telegrams will become collector's items."

After 163 years, India's telegram service goes silent

THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

NEW DELHI - For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

"People came in droves to send telegrams. We worked round the clock. I don't think we went home for days," he recalled.

Over the years, Morse code gave way to telex machines and teleprinters, and finally electronic printers and computers.

Before India overhauled its erratic landline network in the 1980s and 1990s - and well before the mobile phone revolution - the telegram was the only dependable means of conveying news across this vast nation.

At its peak less than three decades ago, a network of 45,000 telegraph offices served the sprawling country. Now there are only 75.

At the Kashmere Gate office, the growing irrelevance of the telegram is reflected in the flyblown calendars on walls greying with age, soot-blackened ceiling fans and a dust-covered chart showing 43 commonly used telegram messages to help customers find the shortest one for the occasion.

For the rare telegram user, it's the end of a way of life.

Abhilasha Kumari, a New Delhi-based sociologist, recalled the crucial role telegrams played in her small hometown of Sitamau in central India.

"The telegram was the only source for getting news quickly. So whenever there was any development in the large extended family - whether it was a death, or a birth, or news about that much-coveted government job, the telegram was the quickest way to get the news," she said.

In countless remote towns and villages, the telegraph worker knew everyone - and their family business.

Kumari recalled the time a telegram informed her family that a cousin died in an accident.

"The postmaster himself came to deliver the telegram. We saw him at the door, and realized something drastic had happened," she said.

While most of the remaining telegraph workers will be given new assignments in the telecommunications company, the informal economy that thrived on the telegram will disappear.

For nearly 35 years, Jagdish Chand Sharma has made a living helping illiterate customers write telegrams from his mat in a dusty corner of the Kashmere Gate office's patio.

In the 1980s, he would write about 150 telegrams a day, conveying the joys and sorrows of his customers with brevity and precision - for a small fee.

Today, he might get three customers on a good day.

Sharma has already equipped himself with packaging material and sealing wax, and has switched to helping people send parcels and mail packages.

"But it's not the same. With a telegram, you instantly made a connection with people when you wrote out a telegram for them," said Sharma, idly swatting flies as he waited in the sweltering heat, a pile of dog-eared telegram forms gathering dust beside him.

Since the June 12 government announcement about the telegram's end, telegraph offices across the country have seen a small rush of people wanting to send some last historic messages.

"We've decided to send telegrams to each other," said Tarun Jain, an IT professional, who had come to the telegraph office with a friend. "Soon this will all be history. Our last telegrams will become collector's items."

03:04ET 12-07-13

India's telegram service goes dark after 163 years

By NIRMALA GEORGE Associated Press

Updated: 07/12/2013 03:23:59 AM EDT

Click photo to enlarge

NEW DELHI-For 163 years, lives across the vast Indian nation have been upended by the knock of the khaki-clad postal worker armed with a telegram.

Families used them to announce births and deaths, the government used them to post job openings, young lovers sent them to tell their folks that they had eloped.

No longer.

On Monday, the state-run telecommunications company will send its final telegram, closing down a service that fast became a relic in an age of email, reliable landlines and ubiquitous cellphones.

The fact that the telegram survived this long is a testament to how deeply woven it is into the fabric of Indian society. In much of the rest of the world, telegrams long ago were relegated to novelty

services used by people who wanted to indulge in a bit of nostalgia.

Just 30 years ago the telegram was king in India. But the service has lost $250 million in just the last seven years as national cellphone subscriptions hit 867 million in April, more than double the number of just four years ago.

"Most people who come in now are those who want to send a telegram for an official reason," said Lata Harit, a telegraph officer at Delhi's historic Kashmere Gate Telegraph Office. "It's no longer about a birth in the family or a death. For that people rely on their telephones or cellphones."

The nearly empty telegraph office was a far cry, she said, from the days when long lines of customers crowded in the British-colonial style building close to the teeming heart of old Delhi to send a telegram. From 10,000 telegrams a day, the office now sends about 100.

The government still uses telegrams to inform recipients of top civilian awards and for court notices. India's armed forces recognize telegrams from troops extending their vacation or from soldiers' families demanding their presence at home for a funeral. Lawyers still send telegrams to create an official record, for example, to prove to a judge that they

had complained their client was subjected to police abuse.

When Harit joined the service more than three decades ago, she underwent six months of training at a school for telegraph operators. Telegrams were sent using the complex dots and dashes of Morse code that had to be decoded at their destination.

"It required enormous concentration to decipher, but some of us were so good at our work, and so fast, that at the end of a day, we would feel exhilarated," she said. "It made us feel proud."

Other operators felt they were important messengers for crucial news.

Baljit Singh, who became a telegraph operator in 1972 and will retire in a few months, recalled the frenetic rush following the 1984 assassination of Prime

Minister Indira Gandhi and the days of political turmoil and street violence that followed.

"People came in droves to send telegrams. We worked round the clock. I don't think we went home for days," he recalled.

Over the years, Morse code gave way to telex machines and teleprinters, and finally electronic printers and computers.

Before India overhauled its erratic landline network in the 1980s and 1990s-and well before the mobile phone revolution-the telegram was the only dependable means of conveying news across this vast nation.

At its peak less than three decades ago, a network of 45,000 telegraph offices served the sprawling country. Now there are only 75.

At the Kashmere Gate office, the

growing irrelevance of the telegram is reflected in the flyblown calendars on walls graying with age, soot-blackened ceiling fans and a dust-covered chart showing 43 commonly used telegram messages to help customers find the shortest one for the occasion.

For the rare telegram user, it's the end of a way of life.

Abhilasha Kumari, a New Delhi-based sociologist, recalled the crucial role telegrams played in her small hometown of Sitamau in central India.

"The telegram was the only source for getting news quickly. So whenever there was any development in the large extended family-whether it was a death, or a birth, or news about that much-coveted government job, the telegram was the quickest way to get the news," she

said.

In countless remote towns and villages, the telegraph worker knew everyone-and their family business.

Kumari recalled the time a telegram informed her family that a cousin died in an accident.

"The postmaster himself came to deliver the telegram. We saw him at the door, and realized something drastic had happened," she said.

While most of the remaining telegraph workers will be given new assignments in the telecommunications company, the informal economy that thrived on the telegram will disappear.

For nearly 35 years, Jagdish Chand Sharma has made a living helping illiterate customers write telegrams from his mat in a dusty corner of the Kashmere Gate office's patio.

In the 1980s, he would write about 150 telegrams a day, conveying the joys and sorrows of his customers with brevity and precision-for a small fee.

Today, he might get three customers on a good day.

Sharma has already equipped himself with packaging material and sealing wax, and has switched to helping people send parcels and mail packages.

"But it's not the same. With a telegram, you instantly made a connection with people when you wrote out a telegram for them," said Sharma, idly swatting flies as he waited in the sweltering heat, a pile of dog-eared telegram forms gathering dust beside him.

Since the June 12 government announcement about the telegram's end, telegraph offices across the country have seen a small rush of people wanting to send some last historic messages.

"We've decided to send telegrams to each other," said Tarun Jain, an IT professional, who had come to the telegraph office with a friend. "Soon this will all be history. Our last telegrams will become collector's items."