The Last Telegram — The Message That Arrived 32 Years Too Late

“The Last Telegram”

(A Ponmanipudi Story....Cinema of Life)

After 35 years of service, Sukumaran—the gentle, soft-spoken postmaster of Ponmanipudi—finally closed the shutters of the old post office for the last time.

The building smelled of dust, old ink, and memories nobody wanted....

Tomorrow was retirement.

But today… he had one last duty:

clean his old wooden table and his room of 30 years...

As he pulled open the stuck bottom drawer, something crackled.

A telegram.

Yellowed.

Fragile.

Unopened.

Tucked deep under old receipts and rubber bands.

Sukumaran blinked.

“Ayyo… who missed this?”

He gently peeled it open..."Ayoo, aww..."

His eyes went wide.

Before he could process it, a familiar voice came from the door.

“Anna? You’re still here?”

It was Meenakshi, the tea stall akka who brought him chai every day for years.

“I found… something,” he whispered, tears streaming in his eyes...

She stepped closer.

“What is that?”

Sukumaran handed her the paper with shaking fingers.

The telegram read:

“SUKUMARAN.... I ACCEPT YOUR PROPOSAL. MEETING YOU TOMORROW. WE SHAll RUN– JANAKI.”

Meenakshi gasped.

“Janaki…? Your Janaki?”

Sukumaran’s throat closed, dry, parched...

He nodded slowly....My Janaki..

Thirty-two years ago, Janaki had left Ponmanipudi suddenly.

Nobody knew why.

Everyone assumed she rejected his marriage proposal. And had found somebody else in city...

Even Sukumaran believed that fate had simply moved her away.

He wiped his eyes.

“This telegram… was supposed to reach me.”

Meenakshi held his arm gently.

“Anna… did you never receive… anything after?”

Sukumaran shook his head. "No..no..ayoo..."

“Janaki never returned. Never wrote.

Her silence… I thought that was my answer.”

Outside, the temple bell rang as if echoing the ache inside him.

Meenakshi whispered,

“So Janaki said yes… and you never knew.”

He folded the telegram with trembling hands. Tears trickling down his face..

“I waited for Janaki for five years, Meenakshi.

Then Amma insisted I marry. That was her last wish...

I did..

I moved on…life... but a part of me always wondered.”

His voice cracked.

“This telegram… answered a question I thought about each day of my life. My Janaki...."he began to sob.

Meenakshi looked at him tenderly...

“Anna… what will you do with it?”

He smiled weakly.

“Keep it. Not as regret… but as proof that love did exist once. Love is never lost...

Even if it reached late.”

He slipped the telegram into his shirt pocket.

But before he could close the office, Rajan hurried in—one of the new postal staff from Rajathooram. He was cleaning the old cupboards in the next room..

“Sir! I too found a old telegram addressed to you. Did you? ” he asked with emotion.

Sukumaran stiffened.

“…Yes. Why?”

“Two telegrams, both found today.” he mused anxiously. .

Sukumaran clutched the telegram closer.

“Why?” he asked.

The man hesitated, then said quietly:

“Because I think Janaki… sent two telegrams that day.

The second one reached too.

It said—

‘Cancel Earlier Telegram. Leaving Village. Do not wait for me...bye.’”

The room fell silent.

Meenakshi whispered,

“So the answer… wasn’t yes?”

Rajan sighed...

“I’m afraid… no.”

Sukumaran stood frozen.

The truth—two truths—hung heavy in the faded air.

One telegram that never reached.

One that reached too late.

And a life caught between the two.

Meenakshi touched his shoulder.

“Anna… are you okay?”

Sukumaran inhaled deeply, folded both pain and relief into one breath.

“Yes,” he said softly.

“For 35 years, I believed I was rejected.

Today I learned…

I wasn’t rejected.

I was… redirected.”

He locked the post office door for the last time.

As he walked away, the morning sun warmed his face.

And for the first time in decades,

Sukumaran felt lighter—

as if some old unanswered question..

finally stopped bothering him....life had answered...