A silence where letters once spoke

There was a time when the postman's footsteps could stop a household in its tracks. 
A letter meant news, a loved one’s warmth, or a friend's distant voice folded into a few handwritten lines. 
Today, 1 September, marks World Letter Writing Day, though that era now survives largely in memory, as technology has eclipsed the emotion of letter-writing – and the once-bustling Dhaka GPO has fallen quiet
The change is visible outside the Dhaka Sadar Post Office itself. Two postboxes, one green and one yellow, stand by the road; a third, red, disappeared after being damaged recently. Both remaining boxes are now wrapped in pink polythene while renovation work continues along the boundary wall, and a fruit vendor has set up his stall right beside them. 
According to officials, the yellow box once served letters bound for Dhaka city, the green for foreign mail, and the red for the rest of the country. Boxes that once swallowed hundreds of letters a day now sit empty for months.
Habib, who has run a second-hand book stall beside the postboxes for over a decade, has watched the shift first-hand. 
“Once, the postboxes were opened every hour. Sacks and sacks of letters used to be taken away to their destinations. People would stand in queues to post their letters,” he recalled. “The crowd gradually disappeared as mobile phones and social media came and took their place. Now the boxes remain empty for months. No one comes anymore.”
For Habib, it is not merely a shift in technology but the quiet disappearance of something once woven into daily life. Younger people feel an echo of that loss, even without having lived it. 
“We heard about letters from our parents and grandparents. We also feel the nostalgia when we read books,” said university student Arfatunnesa, adding, “Modern technology now makes contacting people easier. But we still try to capture the feeling through technology, as we use some apps for receiving anonymous messages, good wishes and tokens of love.”
Nazrul Islam Sarker, an inspector who has spent 33 years at the Dhaka GPO, has watched the decline unfold gradually. 
“People used to write letters by hand. Now the same thing happens over the phone through messages,” he said, noting that personal letters persist only in small numbers, with government correspondence now sustaining the service. 
He believes Speed Post has since restored some of that lost rhythm.
For Deputy Postmaster Mohammad Obaidul Haque, the decline feels personal. 
“When I started this job 28 years ago, there was an emotion attached to letters that no longer exists,” he said. 
“People would sit and wait for a letter for days, and when they heard the footsteps of the runner, they would rush out of their homes.” 
That old glory, he believes, has faded but not vanished entirely – foreigners, he added, still visit, trusting the post office’s security. 
Speed Post, savings certificates and postal banking have meanwhile drawn new custom, particularly among day labourers seeking simpler alternatives to bank bureaucracy.
Still, beside the busy GPO, the two shrouded postboxes wait – no longer flooded with handwritten words, but not entirely forgotten either. Officials say all three will eventually be repaired and reopened once the boundary wall work is finished.