Visiting Post office in Mumbai..Uff!

Few months ago, while I was in Bangkok, I wanted to make a food parcel from the post office. The post office was air-conditioned and very clean and an officer occupied one corner of the room and he helped me pack my food parcel in a box, write address for me and fix the stamps and voila. It was done in ten minutes!! But, I wonder, why it is so difficult to do such simple thing here, in Mumbai? I wanted to send a small packet overseas. I bought envelop for packing, placed the contents into it and went to the post office. The one, closer to my house is a smaller one and they refuse to help me, claiming that I need to wrap it with cloth and go to the other bigger post office. The bigger post office has bigger problems. It is not only dirty and unkempt, but also crowded. There is a separate line for sending parcel and a separate line for buying stamps. The packet had to be wrapped with the cloth, and that service was offered by a man, who is seated on the road, outside the post-office. All these services are exposed to you, one at a time. Tempers fly high, due to frustration of people standing in line and some of them cutting lines. I wait ten minutes for the parcel to be assessed, then take it to the man, outside the post office, and wait on the road. There are many people working on the road side outside the post office, some people are selling envelops, some scanning through mail and some just sitting idle watching the world pass by. I wait patiently on the road as he carefully stitches the packet for me. I come back and wait in line again, only to be told to come back with the stamps of said amount. Wait in another queue to buy stamps and wait again, back at the first window. There is no glue available to stick the stamps on the packets and the tempers fly again, demanding glue! Glue!Glue! People working behind the window are unperturbed by the noise and commotion and they continue to work at snail speed, weighing, chopping a rubber stamp, slowly looking up at aggressive customer, very cool, dilling, dallying..like in those 1955 movies. My parcel takes more than an hour to slip off from my patronage to the other side of the window. Phew!