Finding India's First Post Office, and a Piece of Myself

My name is Rohan, and my world, for the most part, is a 15-inch screen in Salt Lake Sector V. The view from my window is a grid of glass and steel, a landscape that rarely changes. My days have a rhythm: the hum of the server, the click of the keyboard, the relentless cascade of project deadlines. It’s a good life, a modern life, but lately, it had started to feel like a loop. A copy-paste of the day before.

One late Saturday night, scrolling mindlessly, I felt a sudden, intense craving for something real. Something with texture, with a story older than a software update. I wasn't looking for the loud parties of Mandarmani or the familiar crowds of Digha. I started searching for words like "quiet," "heritage," and "Bengal coast."

And then, a name I'd never seen before appeared: Khejuri.

The description was brief but electrifying. India’s first post office? A forgotten 16th-century sea port where European traders once walked? A place from where Raja Rammohun Roy sailed for England? It felt impossible. A piece of such monumental history, just a few hours from Kolkata, and I’d never heard of it. The part of me that loved history, the part that got lost in books, felt a jolt of life. The decision was made.

The next morning, the drive out of Kolkata felt like an escape in itself. Leaving the EM Bypass behind, the city's frantic energy slowly receded, replaced by the tranquil green of the Bengal countryside.

Arriving in Khejuri was like stepping into a different timeline. The first place I sought was the beach. It was vast, empty, and serene. There were no vendors, no loud music, just the rhythmic sound of the waves on the Bay of Bengal and the sight of local fishing boats in the distance. I walked for an hour, the quiet settling over me, clearing the noise of a thousand emails.

Then, I found them. The ruins of the first post office, the old British burial ground with its weathered tombs, the proud, solitary frame of the 19th century lighthouse. Standing there, I felt a profound connection to a story so much larger than my own. This wasn't a curated monument behind a velvet rope. This was history you could touch, history that was slowly, beautifully being reclaimed by nature.

I came to Khejuri looking for a quiet place. But I found something more. I found a story, a sense of perspective that my repetitive, digital world couldn't offer. I had left the city to deliver myself from a routine, and in the process, I’d found the place where India first started delivering messages to the world.

I found a place that reset my soul. And the best part is, this piece of history is surprisingly easy to reach. Here’s how you can find it too.