A R Ismail, among the oldest watch repairmen in Coimbatore, has serviced hundreds of watches over five decades
A R Ismail, among the oldest watch repairmen in Coimbatore, has serviced hundreds of watches over five decades
A R Ismail sits at a quiet corner inside the 100-year-old Bhura Market building. Unperturbed by the festive chaos of Oppanakara Street at Town Hall, he presses his magnifier monocle in place and gets to work: he is replacing the battery for a customer’s watch. His watch service shop is over five decades old, and has seen the comings and goings of several generations of customers. Deepavali is one of his busiest seasons. “This is when I put these up for sale,” he says, pointing to boxes of replica watches.
Ismail is among the oldest watch servicemen in the city. The 72-year-old started out when he was just seven. “I joined a relative’s watch repair and service outlet at Five Corner in the city,” he recalls. “I just helped ground, wiping glass counters and dusting wall clocks.” But his eyes took in every turn of the screwdriver of a senior workman there, and one day, when he was 13, Ismail took a wall clock home for repair.
“I worked all night sitting by a kerosene lamp, there was no electricity at home then,” he says. He didn’t have the tools either. But by then, he had quite a collection that he had fashioned out of needles. By daybreak, the clock ticked to life.
A R Ismail has been working from his small shop at the 100-year-old building for 52 years.
| Photo Credit: PERIASAMY M
Ismail eventually set up his own unit at Bhura Market. “I enjoyed opening up automatic watches,” he says, adding, “The mechanics of the watches of the past were rock solid. I come across a lot of flimsy pieces now that last just four or five years.” Ismail has serviced quite a few memorable time pieces, among them being a grandfather clock at the Coimbatore Government Hospital. “This was in 1962. I took the clock home and worked on it the evening, and put it back up the next morning,” he recalls.
Ismail has customers walking up to him with their new watches, asking his opinion on them. “I once had a customer from Kerala who brought a Rado to be looked into, telling me that his friend advised him to get it fixed by ‘an old man at Town Hall in Coimbatore’,” he laughs. A man walks by just then to get a new loop fixed for his watch and Ismail rummages in his old boxes to find one. His hands shake as he screws in the miniscule screws. “It’s this table’s position,” he mumbles, and gets it done after several attempts.
He knows he is getting old and that he should probably retire. “This is what my children tell me,” he laughs dryly. “But I cannot sit at home. That day will come soon, till then, I will prefer to come to my shop and be surrounded by these watches and tools.”
Behind him are several boxes with old unclaimed watches. “I don’t even know if their owners are still alive,” he says, adding that he has labelled some of them with names and addresses. “After I am gone, I have asked my sons to sell them and offer the money to less-privileged children,” he says. What watch does Ismail own, we ask, noticing his empty wrists. “None,” he says. “I don’t wear watches.”
