The Cobbler Couple.

As I got ready to get to work just the other day I noticed that my shoes needed a good shine.
I wanted to shoe shine them myself but for some reason, dropped the idea and decided to indulge in the luxury of getting them done by a cobbler.

Out I walked and decided to take a public transport to work that day as the cobblers were located in that direction.
It as was round 9 AM as I briskly made my way through the lanes leading to the main road, peering over, hoping that the cobbler would have opened his shop.

As soon as I reached the main road I could see his roadside shop and sure enough it was closed.
There I was regretting my decision not to do it myself.

Disturbed and very uncomfortable as my conscience was now being mired by an uneasy feeling of donning shoes that were dull and bereft of a deserving shine.
Luxuries and me we were never friends.
I crossed the main road and walked over to the bus shelter…and within a minute I could board a bus.
That promptitude of arrival of a bus helped me forget the concern on the top of the mind.
The bus was full of students who disembarked within a minute reminding me of a crate of fish being off loaded on a ships deck, after a healthy catch.

Once on board, the journey took around 15 minutes to cover the 5 Kms to my office.

As I disembarked my thoughts returned to the shoddy looks on my feet.
My eyes and my brain started wondering where I would find a cobbler in this last stretch of 400 meters to my office block.
As I normally took a cab to work I never noticed one earlier.
As I walked I noticed road side cobbler shop, one across the road.
I also saw to my delight the doors being removed and the shop being opened by the owners.
With a new found bounce in my steps I crossed the road and arrived at the shop.

As i reached there I noticed that it was being opened by an aged man and inside the shanty shop was another aged woman, quite aged, sweeping the floor.
The man himself was removing various stuff from within the confines of the interiors and arranging them outside on the pavement.
Out came the old metallic folding stool, which was quickly put into its slot for the customers to sit.
I did not.
Then came a couple of boxes and cartons with odd stuff stuffed into it.
This was followed by an old plastic can that they would use for storing water; it was placed outside too in its designated place.
The team consisted of this man and woman going about this pre-opening chore, with clock work precision as a second nature due to that fact that they were doing the same stuff over years.
Not a word was exchanged between them.
In and out as I watched they would go and set the shop and its handful of wares in place.
Just then I noticed that the woman had picked up all the essential tools required for polishing the shoes and was arranging them on the foot path outside.
I though she was clearing the inner space as such as she was half way through with her brooming ritual.
The broom was dropped.
She had stepped out too.
The man had moved in the meantime.

I thought I would wait for them to complete their ritual and then expect a shoe shine to happen.
As I was the first customer of the day and they had not opened the shop as yet.
They needed to go through the daily ritual of cleaning and also praying before commencing work, and they were at it.
As was apparent from the first looks.
I did not feel like disturbing then at all and decided to wait it out.
As I had time too on my hand…plenty of it.
The office was 200 meters away from this spot.
I continued to watch the daily activity hoping to see the shop being cleaned and wares getting displayed in next 5 to 10 minutes.
By these two seasoned pairs of hand who had been running this outlet for God knows how many years.
As one united for the cause.
Making a living.

My mind wandered at their lives.
Wondering how did the two spend their life as they were both almost old?
Was it a grind for them in the past as in the now?
How will they do too in the years to come?
Did they save enough? For their well being in the years ahead when the limbs would give away.
How would they sustain life…has the recession hit them too?
As I was mulling over these thoughts I noticed an old moped parked beside the way side work shop.
There I was mapping up their economic stature and marveling at their ability to travel together on that moped to work and back home at this age.
He would drive and she would sit behind.
Contended…enjoying the drive clutching a steel Tiffin full of food while coming for work and empty while going back home.

From the looks and the bearings offered by the two while going through the routines every day did not indicate to me that life for them was not a grind even though they belonged at the lowest wrung of the society as they had to earn their wages daily by using their hands.

My thoughts were broken suddenly by the woman who had by now squatted outside and was ready to shine my shoes.
She indicated accordingly with her dark eyes clouded with rings of cataracts.
I was a bit shaken…as I was expecting the man to do so.
Instead the roles were reversed and the man was within the confines of the shack, sitting on his haunches and wanting to light incense sticks. He was searching for a match box.
I removed my shoes and a pair of hands quickly grabbed them.
Woman’s hands,

She picked up a brush and deftly cleaned the dust away from the top of the shoes…within a minute or two.
Next she picked up the polish and swiftly applied the same on both the shoes…and set them aside to dry the polish before setting about to get to shine them.
As they were drying she arranged the tools and the other stuff around in an orderly manner.
The old man had by now found the match box and had lit up the incense sticks.
I was looking at the graying mane of hair on both of them, in awe.
Life as it was unfolded in front of my eyes today…both the past and the future through the eyes and the activities of this couple living on meager incomes as a coupled up cobbler couple.
Satisfied.
Contended.
Resigned to their own life style of years.
Happy too…as they worked in unison, silent unison, without a freckle or frown on their face.

A form of communication that is scene only in teams that have a passion for what they do.
As a team…life long, and love it too.
Silent, coordinated, synchronized activity that had reached a zenith.
Minus any formal costly corporate training.
Life’s ups and downs and their will to go about things as a happy, couple had ensured one thing for sure to have emerged with time.
Quality, and respect for others time.
The shoe polish had dried up…and the old woman had brushed it up to a wonderful shine.
With pride reflecting in her eyes as she went about it too.
Her body swaying and swinging with every stroke.
Her head bobbing side ways as she brushed and her hands clutching the shoe as well as the brush firmly enough lest either of them get to slip out of her seasoned hands.
Practiced to perfection over the years the shoe shine had to emerge thanks to these deft pair of hands.
A shining pride that had transcended and emerged from within her on to my pair of shoes.
As shiny as I would make happen too, after 40 years of experience.
I was delighted for having got what I was used too.

I was a bit disturbed though, as it was received from a most unexpected pair of hands.
But then it that was beyond my control…an act of chance and destiny.

What do I do now?
As there was no verbal communication so far and yet I was a thoroughly satisfied customer.
Do I appreciate…if I do how do I?
I would have to break the silence…and I did not want too.
Hence I reached into my pocket and pulled out a bill of twice the amount that normally shoe shine costs and handed it over to the old man who had by now emerged from the shop.
I smiled at him and he saluted me gratitude that bill held in his hand.
As I walked past my eye caught a crescent like smile parked on that woman’s face that had shown my shoe that day.

They made my day…but did I do that too?

I will come to know for sure when I get to visit them next…as I am sure they would welcome me again with a smile…if they happen to remember me.
That’s the challenge…a failing memory on them due old age on one hand, hundreds of customers per day on the other…and my being the first one on that wonderful morning.

Axee
Alias
Arun