The Watchmaker
This is a short story about
one of those strangers who gradually turned into an acquaintance and eventually
become one of my inspirations. I dedicate this to the one who I had accidentally
discovered, when my family and I had shifted from Nerul to Kharghar (both in Navi
Mumbai), way back in the year 2008. My relationship with him has only blossomed
over a period of time. Until recently, it never occurred to me that he could be
the subject of one of my blogs. The reason which prompts me to write about him
is already becoming the reason for me to see him less frequently, and this
thought is making me a bit sad and emotional.
Although I distinctly
remember that we shifted to Kharghar, in the rainy month of July 2008, I don’t
recollect exactly when I bumped into this stranger. I do recall although that
it was not for my own watch, but for getting the cells of my wife’s multiple
watches replaced, that forced me to go out on a sleepy afternoon of a rainy weekend,
looking for an efficient watchmaker. I must have passed through at least two or
three watchmakers in the same crowded market of Sector 12 (one sector in the
town which was and still is considered as one stop destination for all the daily
needs), before reaching him and selecting him, based on my strong instinct, to
be the right one.
He was busy, carefully
cleaning a watch, before deftly placing a new cell in it. Then he took out an
expensive looking sharp black marker, wrote the date on the inside of the cap,
before signing it. Next, he placed the watch on a handkerchief to save the
glass on its dial from getting any scratch and finally press-tightened the cap.
At the end of this neat exercise, he handed over the watch with a sense of
satisfaction on his face to the impatiently waiting customer. “Seventy rupees
please,” he said politely. The look on the customer’s face was self-expressing.
He clearly felt it was a little too much for a cell for his third or fourth
watch! Before he could protest, the watchmaker politely said, “don’t worry
sahib, zyaada nahin to ek saal to chalega hi (don’t worry sir, it would last
for at least a year, if not more). Koi
problem ho to hum hain na (if there is any problem, I’m here).” The customer
smiled, took out a hundred rupee note and promptly got the change back. The
whole episode helped me get a sense of feeling that I was at the right place.
He looked at me and welcomed
me with a slight smile. When he saw three watches in my hand, he removed some
cardboard boxes from the top of a stool and offered it to me to sit-on.
“Bathiye (please sit),” he politely mentioned. I said, “thoda jaldi mein hoon
(I’m in a bit of a hurry).” He said, “jaldi mein to nahin ho paayega (can’t do
in a hurry).” I was least expecting this statement. If I were in Delhi, from
where I originally come from, where everyone at least shows they can do
everything in a jiffy, this dialogue would have surely put me off. By that
time, our stay in Nerul for the last two years, had prepared me patient enough
to quietly sit on the stool and wait, while he started to open the first watch.
“Yahan naye hain (are
you new here)?”, he asked me. I said, yes, we have shifted a few weeks ago from
Nerul, stressing on Nerul a bit more than normal, just to make him feel that I
am more like a local, and he shouldn’t try to take me for a ride. I don’t know
whether he read my mind or what that he stated with a smile, “humara rate fixed
hai (our rate is fixed).” I couldn’t say anything further. In the next half an
hour, he opened one watch to the other, wore the eye-microscope, moved the tiny
part of the watch, took out the cell, applied his saliva on it to test it for
its energy retention, before throwing it into a box which was already having
many discarded cells, followed by repeating the process which I had already
seen. In between, he appreciated the maintenance of the watches, to which I promptly
promised to pass on his compliments to my wife. In the meanwhile, it had
started to rain again, and he asked me if I would like to have a cup of tea. I
politely declined, took out two-hundred and ten rupees, when he said, “two
hundred and fifty please.” I was about to protest, when he said, “sahib, aapki
do watches special hain, mehnga wala cell daala hain, lamba chalega, guarantee
meri hai (sir, your two of the watches are little special, have put expensive
cell, will last long, it’s my guarantee).” His mannerism reflected a calm sense
of surety, prompting me to pay without negotiating. I left the place with a
sense of achievement, since my wife was surely going to be happier, thereby
almost ensuring that the leftover part of the weekend was going to be quite pleasant.
The weekend did go
wonderfully well, and the life went on. Thanks to the variety of watches in our
collection, I visited the watchmaker a couple of more times in the next one
year. It was easy to realize that he is not only very hardworking but quite
sincere too. At each cell replacement, he would carry out a minor service of
the watch, free of charge, which added longevity not only to the cell but also
to the watch. And every time he would remind me to keep using the watch rather
than leaving it ideal, which was quite difficult, since each of us have higher
taste for one particular watch. He would try his best to change the cell then &
thereon itself, unless a particular cell would be running out of stock. In one
of these visits he complained that people tend to leave their watch with him,
which puts a huge responsibility on him, since some watches are quite
expensive. Despite his repeated reminders and protests, a few of his customers never
bother to collect the watch in time, thereby making him quite nervous. The
severity of the problem is so high that he has to think twice before even taking
a bio-break and whenever he is forced to take one, quite quickly he needs to be
back in his seat!
As the time went by,
our relationship grew in warmth. He shared with me how his children have grown
to study well, why he is happy that they are not following his footsteps as far
as choosing a profession is concerned, why it’s so difficult to get a time off
during the week since on all days, except Friday, he would work from morning
till late evening and on Fridays, he would go to the wholesale market in main
city to get the stock. In each of these visits, he warmly asks about my
family’s and my welfare. At rare occasions, he briefly broaches a small
discussion on a concurrent political or weather-related topic, which lasts only
until the work on the watch is ongoing. I quickly disperse the moment his task is
completed, and he really appreciates this quality of mine. In all these years,
there has not been even a single instance, where either the cell has expired
before one year has elapsed, or the watch has suddenly stopped while in use.
Over the years I have seen one watchmaker or the other being forced to close
the business, because of low volumes, but for this one. In some way, this
watchmaker inspires me with his humility, perseverance and hard work.
Very recently, my wife
and I visited the watchmaker in a little bit of emergency mode, since my wife’s
favourite watch had not been functioning for some time due expiry of the cell,
and she wanted to wear it on a special occasion the next day. He welcomed us
with his characteristic style. “Arey sir aap bahut dino baad aaye (Sir, you
came after many days),” he said. I informed him that it has been the case due
to my extensive travels. He patiently mended two watches of another customer,
who was already present when we reached, while my wife and I indulged in
enjoying sharing a coconut water from a nearby vendor. After he replaced the
cell of my wife’s watch, he asked me how my own watch had been doing. As a
natural instinct I extended my wrist towards him to confirm that my watch was
doing just fine, without realizing that I was wearing my latest Apple watch,
which I had very recently bought from Singapore airport duty free. He politely
congratulated me for my latest acquisition, however the obvious looks on his
face suddenly made me a bit sad and emotional.
PS: After the above
incident, I’ve been secretly wishing that my wife continues to have her
interest maintained in her analog watches, so that I have a chance to continue
to maintain my beautiful relationship with this watchmaker.
Great Reading Bajaj. Simple and straight
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