India, May 1 -- A routine call to update the KYC took me to the post office, and since it was vacation time, I decided to take my son along. Just as we were stepping out, the doorbell rang-and there he was: A postman in his familiar khaki uniform, standing patiently with a registered letter. That single moment transported me to another era.

There was a time when the postman was not a rarity but a daily visitor, eagerly awaited. Blue inland letters, postcards, money orders, and especially greeting cards during festivals carried emotions across distances. In school, we were encouraged to write letters to pen friends we had never met-an exercise not just in language, but in empathy and cultural exchange.

We belong to a generation that unde...