Grey clouds hover over Russell Square. They growl menacingly and then spit out fat raindrops. I take cover at the newspaper stall next to Luna Sweets.

A group of men sit on wooden benches outside a chai shop, sipping hot tea. They complain that Shivajinagar is definitely dirtier and more crowded than before. Prasad, the news stall owner tells me that it affects business.”  It was not like this in earlier times” recollects a grey haired Syed Anwar.

“The Shivajinagar Bus Terminus used to be a football field called the Chota Maidan in the late 40’s.  At the corner of the Square opposite St.Mary’s Basilica was a petrol bunk and in the middle was a large public toilet and well.” They begin to swap stories and I am included in the reminiscences.

“When my father moved his business here in 1957, military officers and Europeans from the Cantonment came to get watches fixed.” says a bespectacled Syed Mahmood. I peek into his shop; the Paris Watch Company.

It is filled with timepieces; grandfather clocks hang on the wall and squat little brass vintage alarm clocks tick merrily inside a tiny work cabin. “Our earlier shop, the Pearl Watch Company (present Mota Chambers) was on Brigade Road. Business was good there.” The shop shifted to Shivajinagar in 1957.

“My family was originally from Chikmagalur where my grandfather had a circus. He was good with animals but it ran at a loss so he shifted to fixing watches.” My eyes widen. I have unexpectedly come across astory on this rainy evening in Bangalore.Perhaps the city speaks only when we stop to listen.

Syed Mahmood’s father, Syed Jaffer,was a respected horologist, well known amongst vintage watch collectors in the city.  “One day in the late 70’s, Dr. Ajaz Ahmad, a Unani specialist from Mysore called him about a very important job.

Watchmakers across the country and beyond had failed at it since the three missing parts were irreplaceable. My father manufactured the parts,re-assembled the clock in 30 days and took it to Delhi where he presented the working Mantel Clock to its owner, the Prime Minister, Mrs. Indira Gandhi. He charged only `3000 for the job” says Syed Mahmood “but Mrs.Gandhi gave him `10,000.”

Syed Jaffer refused to teach his son the craft through books. “I learnt how to repair and assemble watches standing beside him all day.” His eyes grow moist. “He was a very fine man.”

Syed Jaffer was returning from weekly prayers at a mosque in Kumbarpet when he was unknowingly caught in police firing on MG Road in December 1986, duringa protest over a fictional story in a local newspaper. The stray bullet damaged his voice and his vocation. His shaking hands never fixed a watch again till his demise two years later.

The shop fills with sadness. Syed Mahmood wipes his eyes.
The clouds pass and the stories end. The men discuss world events. Paris Watch Company goes back to work. Syed Mahmood hunches over a dial and scrutinises it carefully.He fixes all kinds of clocks and watches including new ones, but the vintage French mantel clocks are a personal favourite. “Like the English clocks, they are almost impossible to replicate.”

Customers arrive to pick up their resurrected Omega or Rolex watches. They tell me that his skill and dedication too, are equally irreplaceable.The shop’s reputation remains unaltered by time.