You got the mail: Johnson & Johnson’s first female postal worker walked every day for 30 years, delivering 25 letters a day

SRINAGAR: Ulfat Bano collects about 25 letters from the district post office in south Kashmir’s Shopian every morning and sets out on foot. There was no mail van to jump into if she got tired, and no bicycle to use.The 55-year-old trudged through her native village of Hirapora, past wooden barns with stone walls and corrugated iron roofs and, when winter arrived, through knee-deep snow to get each envelope into the right hand.Ulfat’s daily life has remained the same for more than three decades, but she approaches her job with the enthusiasm and energy of a new employee. For Shirapora, Kashmir’s first female postman remains the only postal link to the outside world.No consideration was given to the terrain that Ulfat negotiated in the discharge of his duties. At Gila Pora’s altitude, snowfall can obscure walking trails for weeks.Whenever it snows (which is usually in the winter in these parts), Hierapolla falls asleep in a variety of ways. But the postal service can trust that Ulfat will be there as usual, holding an umbrella in one hand and a bundle of mail in the other, her Perrin the only spot of color on the white hillside.She refused to rest. Come rain or shine, the mail will go out.In a male-dominated profession, Ulfat earns a monthly salary of Rs 22,000 and works the same hours and scope as his male counterparts elsewhere in J&K. She couldn’t tell the difference. Nor is she seeking any concessions.At her age, with less than five years left before retirement, work has impacted Ulfat in a way it didn’t at 25. “It gets difficult sometimes,” she told TOI. “But my passion for this job doesn’t allow me to give up.”What keeps her going are the intangible rewards of her career. Over the past 30 years, Ulfat has watched hundreds of families erupt in celebration when she brings good news – a long-awaited letter, a job offer or a package from someone far away.“I think my job is a good thing,” Ulfat said. “It connects people across different geographies.”Ulfat sat on the wooden steps of the Hirapora Post Office, a small brick building with the familiar India Post logo hanging above green curtains, with his hands folded in his lap. It was a typically bright spring morning, which should make her feel a little more relaxed than she would have been if the weather had been bad.Inside the building, the next batch of letters and packages is being packed.