The Mysterious Postcard

Denzil Jayasinghe

2 min read

Alone postcard, a solitary missive amidst a sea of envelopes, arrived on my doorstep one crisp morning. Its unassuming exterior belied the intrigue that awaited within. The sender, Brother Jerome, my boarding master, had inscribed the message in a language that was as unfamiliar to me as the distant starlit sky.

Intricate calligraphy, written in a hand that seemed almost too small to be human, covered the back of the card. The word “RECIPROCATING” stood out, its ornate flourish adding a touch of mystery to the otherwise ordinary greeting. The phrase “reciprocating your kind greetings” was also present, but in a language I couldn’t decipher.

The postcard itself was a generic Christmas greeting, wishing a “Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.” I understood “prosperous,” a word commonly used to denote a successful year ahead. But “reciprocating,” written with such precision and care, piqued my curiosity.

Why had Brother Jerome chosen such an obscure language? It hinted at a previous exchange, a silent dialogue conducted through the postal service. I had sent him a Christmas card the week before, and this was his reply.

Turning the postcard over, I examined the address. It was unmistakably mine: Master Denzil Jayasinghe, 248 Mudiyansegewatta, Dalugama Kelaniya. The postmark indicated it had traveled from Mutwal, the Colombo suburb where my boarding was located.

A sense of anticipation washed over me as I placed the postcard on my desk. The word “RECIPROCATING” held a deeper meaning. What had prompted Brother Jerome to choose such an unusual term?

Driven by curiosity, I consulted my grandfather’s Oxford dictionary. The definition — “To return in kind (an action, gesture, or emotion especially a positive one): especially to requite (love or affection)” — only deepened the mystery. I turned to my mother’s English-to-Sinhala Malalasekera dictionary, but the translation, “අන්යෝන්ය වශයෙන්,” was equally perplexing.

Frustrated, I set the postcard aside. When my father returned from work, I couldn’t wait to ask him. “What does RECIPROCATING mean?” I demanded, my voice filled with excitement.

“Denzil, it means RETURN,” he replied thoughtfully.

In that moment, the postcard transformed from a simple piece of mail into a vessel of understanding. “Reciprocating” was not just a word; it was a bridge connecting two people, a reminder of the kindness exchanged between Brother Jerome and me. It encapsulated the essence of relationships — the give and take, the acknowledgment of gestures, the warmth of greetings shared across distances.

I picked up the postcard again, this time with a newfound appreciation. It was a simple Christmas card, yet it carried the weight of connection, a reminder that even the smallest gestures can resonate deeply. The mystery of the unfamiliar language faded, replaced by the warmth of understanding. In the act of reciprocation, I found not just the meaning of a word but the beauty of human connection itself.