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But that was not the case with our fathers. It was understood that if I ever wrote any letter to my girl friend, c/o her Father, I had to take into account that her blasted Father would be the first to open it as soon as it arrived in his home from the postman, read and reread it and only then pass it on to his daughter if it passed his censorship. So, we had to innovate and use code words.
Feynman narrated his experience with his censors who used to open his envelopes to his wife, Arlene, read them, scissor them, and reseal them when he was working for the Bomb at Los Alomos:
When I was just a kid of 8 in Class VI in my Village School, I had this memorable experience. I was running for my play on the street and two village belles stopped me and handed me an Inland Envelope and asked me to read it aloud for them. It turned out to be full of rustic lust and a plan to elope. The two girls were giggling furiously and thought I didn't follow the words or the plan...ha!!! I am sure their demon-lover would have employed another Class VI kid at his end as his scribe.
The other day a family of 5 were visiting our home here... an old gent, his wife a few years younger, their daughter, son-in-law, and their kid of 3. And we were four...me, my son, my D-i-L, and Ishani. Everyone was talking to everyone in turns and that made it 20 (am I right?) tete-a-tetes. And at last, after 5 hours of eat-and-meet the Lady (60) began talking to me excitedly one-on-one. She retired as the Principal of a College here and was narrating to me how tough it was for her to pursue her MA (English) since, during all those decades back, sending grown-up daughters to college was frowned upon. Her father was a well-known Physics Professor but hard up with a large family of half-a-dozen daughters.
So, one day, she wrote a post card to one of her friends expressing her keen desire to pursue her higher studies and how her father was objecting and unable. And gave it to her father to post it...knowing full well that he would read it before posting it...she got admitted to the University the following academic session.
Scoop!
After I passed my High School Exams, I was sent to my Shakespeare Uncle's place for my one-year Pre-University. He was just then appointed as Principal of that moffusil College. Luckily I did well and brought good name to both the fledgling college and its Principal who taught us English. Then I went to Vizagh for my University education.
Two years later, my younger sister, Uma Devi, took my place at my Principal Uncle's place for her Pre-University.
I took that opportunity and wrote a sealed Inland Letter addressed to:
Uma Devi
c/o Principal
PBN College
Nidubrole
My letter was modeled after the prose piece we had in our School titled:
"Hazlitt's letter to his son"
I pumped up her College, its Principal (my Uncle), and the dos and don'ts at home and college.
I knew full well that my Uncle would open it and read it and then pass it on to my sister.
A year later I broke my journey home and dropped for a day at my Uncle's place. He then gifted me a copy of their maiden printed College Magazine in which the pride of place belonged to:
"Letter from a Brother to his Sister"
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'And that silly laugh of yours, you must correct that. If you are amused, a quiet smile is ample. Lord Chesterfield said that since he had had the full use of his reason nobody ever heard him laugh. I don't suppose you have read Lord Chesterfield's Letters To His Son?'
....Well, of course I hadn't. Bertram Wooster does not read other people's letters. If I were employed in the post office, I wouldn't even read the post cards.
.....From 'Aunts Aren't Gentlemen' by PGW
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But that was not the case with our fathers. It was understood that if I ever wrote any letter to my girl friend, c/o her Father, I had to take into account that her blasted Father would be the first to open it as soon as it arrived in his home from the postman, read and reread it and only then pass it on to his daughter if it passed his censorship. So, we had to innovate and use code words.
Feynman narrated his experience with his censors who used to open his envelopes to his wife, Arlene, read them, scissor them, and reseal them when he was working for the Bomb at Los Alomos:
The thing we were ready for the next one was that the letter would start, "I hope you remembered to open this letter carefully because I have included the Pepto-Bismol powder for your stomach as arranged." It would be a letter full of powder. In the office we expected they would open it quickly, the powder would go all over the floor, and they would get all upset because you are not supposed to upset anything. They would have to gather up all this Pepto-Bismol...
The other day a family of 5 were visiting our home here... an old gent, his wife a few years younger, their daughter, son-in-law, and their kid of 3. And we were four...me, my son, my D-i-L, and Ishani. Everyone was talking to everyone in turns and that made it 20 (am I right?) tete-a-tetes. And at last, after 5 hours of eat-and-meet the Lady (60) began talking to me excitedly one-on-one. She retired as the Principal of a College here and was narrating to me how tough it was for her to pursue her MA (English) since, during all those decades back, sending grown-up daughters to college was frowned upon. Her father was a well-known Physics Professor but hard up with a large family of half-a-dozen daughters.
So, one day, she wrote a post card to one of her friends expressing her keen desire to pursue her higher studies and how her father was objecting and unable. And gave it to her father to post it...knowing full well that he would read it before posting it...she got admitted to the University the following academic session.
Scoop!
After I passed my High School Exams, I was sent to my Shakespeare Uncle's place for my one-year Pre-University. He was just then appointed as Principal of that moffusil College. Luckily I did well and brought good name to both the fledgling college and its Principal who taught us English. Then I went to Vizagh for my University education.
Two years later, my younger sister, Uma Devi, took my place at my Principal Uncle's place for her Pre-University.
I took that opportunity and wrote a sealed Inland Letter addressed to:
Uma Devi
c/o Principal
PBN College
Nidubrole
My letter was modeled after the prose piece we had in our School titled:
"Hazlitt's letter to his son"
I pumped up her College, its Principal (my Uncle), and the dos and don'ts at home and college.
I knew full well that my Uncle would open it and read it and then pass it on to my sister.
A year later I broke my journey home and dropped for a day at my Uncle's place. He then gifted me a copy of their maiden printed College Magazine in which the pride of place belonged to:
"Letter from a Brother to his Sister"
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