A Stitch in Time

One of the great contradictions I've noticed about the Indian people so far is how in some cases rules are followed to a hilt but in other cases they're they're thrown out the window. I experienced a great example of this when trying to post a parcel from Jaipur post office.

After filling out a quick form at the front of the building, I entered the main area, where only one counter was open, with a queue of about 10 people. Naturally, I joined the back of the queue, but Nana (who guided me through the whole process) dragged me straight up to the counter, and told me to get the attention of the clerk, who was busy dealing with someone else. I hate queue skippers, and I just looked at Nana as if to say “really?” He shouted something in Rajasthani at the clerk, who took my parcel. I glanced anxiously back at the queue behind me, expecting many an icy stare, but not an eyelid was batted.

Then, to my disbelief, the clerk decided the stitching of the parcel was not good enough for them to accept (I was sending a quilt wrapped in some linen material stitched together around it). And there was 10 minutes until the last post! I was lost, but Nana dragged me back to the front desk, where, after a lot of Rajasthani shouting, the man there re-stitched my parcel furiously. Sprinting back to the clerk, re-stitched parcel in hand, more shouting and he re-examined it. Good enough this time. Phew!

The parcel got there in the end.