Question

Tortured by doubt and remorse, the Postmaster sits in the glow of a charcoal sigri that night, waiting for news of his daughter. As the Postmaster, write a diary entry outlining your feelings.

Answer 1

Answer:

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Tuesday, 15th

May 20XX

10:30 p.m.

Today I am filled with shame and guilt for my rude behaviour towards Ali, a poor father. Ali used to come to the Post Office daily to enquire about a letter from his daughter. Everybody laughed at him and made fun of him. I was no exception. I also insulted him and called him a pest. Today, when my own daughter is not well and I am waiting for some news from my daughter, I realise the pain, agony and suffering of Ali. I understand his fatherly concern for his daughter. I am filled with remorse and repentance for fny inhuman behaviour towards Ali. In the mail, while searching for my daughters letter, I found Miriams letter. Poor Ali had been waiting for this letter for so long. I have taken that letter and I wish to give.that letter to Ali with my own hands as soon as he reaches the Post Office. I would repent for my misbehaviour by asking forgiveness from Ali. Ali s heart and soul lie bare before me.

Answer 2

Answer:

17 December 2020

Today, as I was eagerly going through the mail waiting for my daughter’s letter, my eyes fell upon the letter Coachman Ali had been waiting for.

I was shocked on seeing the letter, and my heart was filled with compassion and regret.

It was not long ago that Ali had come to me and humbly asked me if I had a letter from his Miriam.

I can’t forget how I had reacted.

I had rebuked him and told him to go away.

I hadn’t seen the pain in his eyes, his tears of helplessness.

I hadn’t seen the anguish of the father whose patience had been exhausted even if his faith still held.

How all of us had poked fun at him! We had called him a lunatic!

How insensitive we were!

My own daughter’s sickness has brought about a major change in me.

As I anxiously await news of my daughter,

I can understand what poor Ali must have gone through.

Now I look at every envelope differently— as though it contains a warm beating heart.

If you want to make me brainlist so please make me.