The Watchmaker.

     

Picture credit: wikipaintings.org (The watchmaker of Switzerland - Norman Rockwell)

     He looked more like a sadist. I wonder if a smile ever crossed his face. Maybe its true when people around say he is the most unfriendly guy they have ever encountered. His is a characteristic wooden face. Neither spark nor pain in his eyes, Neither smile nor sorrow on his face. But, what do I actually know of him? Not much. All I know is he is the only one who can mend my wrist watch which is about nine years old. In this age of instant likes, a wrist watch of nine years is living past its expiry and it is a mammoth task to get it mended because the model is 'too' old and its accessories obsolete!! If nine years is being too old, then this man almost in his late sixties or early seventies should have lived for ages!! God knows why he still sits in the scorching Sun mending age old obsolete models of watches. Isn't he too old for his work? What sort of businessman is he if he has to work late into this age? Maybe he lacks awareness as to what business is, how to save for the future, how to make profit out of each endeavor. Insufficient economic education, a highly prevalent maladies in our country, I intellectually theorized.

     Today, he was with a young guy. Maybe an apprentice, I thought. As I gave him my watch, he looked at me. Maybe he was mocking at my stubbornness in persisting with the same model. He dived into the antique box of his accessories, his old eyes still had that sharpness to find the perfect accessories, however small they were. The young guy and I were perplexed at the perfect judgment as the old watchmaker picked the perfect fit without even measuring the object. Maybe expertise is the product of experience. And then those fingers were set into an act of elegance as they put together those microscopic spare parts in their perfect positions within the watch and set it in motion. No sign of any emotion on his face. I wondered how he could be so devoid of feelings. He had accomplished something miraculous because every expert on watches in the town had told me that the watch could not be mended and this man, my last resort did it with such simplicity without the aid of any of those sophisticated tools, that I was left mesmerized at the quality of his skill and how he had sustained it till this age!

     Cursing myself for not coming to this disgruntled genius initially, I asked him how much I had to pay. Never a man to speak, as always, he indicated with his hands that I pay him ten rupees. The young guy by his side was shocked. In disbelief, he asked, "You have gone crazy? Only ten rupees? You know what business is? That's why you still rot in the Sun." The first time I heard the old man speak in years - "Relationship. How do you value it? I have seen this fellow come to me as an anxious boy years ago when his first watch needed to be mended. Maybe its almost a decade and it is still his first watch and he still comes to me.  His grandfather was among my first clients. A relationship of over fifty years. To me business is relationship, business is trust, business is the best service offered, business is the effective employment of the best skill. And I don't rot in the Sun, I wait to offer the best of my skills to the service of those in genuine need of it. That satisfies me and that is my business."

     Not a faint sign of an emotion, he looked at me with his typical wooden face, again indicated with his hands that it was ten rupees.