J&K Postwoman: You’ve got mail: J&K’s first postwoman clocks 25 letters a day, 30 years on foot | India News

SRINAGAR: Every morning Ulfat Bano collects about 25 letters from the district post office in south Kashmir’s Shopian and leaves on foot. There is no postal van that he can use if fatigue strikes.The 55-year-old walks past his home village of Hirapora, past stone walls and wooden barns with corrugated tin roofs – and when winter comes, through knee-deep snow – to put each envelope in his right hand.Ulfat’s routine hasn’t changed in more than three decades, yet he treats the job with the enthusiasm and energy of a recent recruit. For Hirapora, Kashmir’s first post woman remains the only postal link with the outside world.Terrain Ulfat does not make allowances for bargaining. Hirapora sits at such a height that snows cover the walking paths for weeks.Whenever it snows, which is often during the winter in these parts, Hirapora go to sleep in a number of ways. But the postal department could count on Ulfat heading his route, as usual, umbrella in one hand and a bundle in the other, his return the only spot of color against the white hills.He refuses to take a break. Sun, rain or snow, the call goes out.In a male-dominated profession, Ulfat earns Rs 22,000 a month, works the same hours and covers the same ground as her male counterparts elsewhere in Jammu and Kashmir. He sees no difference. He doesn’t want any concessions either.At his age, just five years away from retirement, work takes a toll Ulfat didn’t feel at 25. “It becomes difficult at times,” he told TOI. “But my passion for this job doesn’t let me quit.”What keeps him going is the immense rewards of his profession. Over the past 30 years, Ulfat has seen hundreds of families celebrate whenever the bearer of good news – a long-awaited letter, a job offer or a parcel from far away – arrives.“I see my work as good work. It connects people across geographies,” said Ulfat.Outside the Hirapora post office, a small brick building with the familiar India Post sign above a green screen, Ulfat sits on a wooden step with her hands folded in her lap. It’s a typically bright spring morning, which should make the grind less taxing if the weather isn’t its ally.Inside the building, the next batch of letters and parcels is being packed.