Keepers of Time

Standing: From left, Mr. Shankarappa, and Mr. Mallikarjun. Seated: Mr. Chandrashekar.
What a handful of youngsters considered stable jobs led to decades long careers of rather monotonous, highly-focused work. It inadvertently impacted the lives of millions of Indians too. The idea of a singular watch brand for millions of Indians for decades intrigued us, and we wanted to bring to light the men and women that were behind the scenes. Their personalities, and their stories are as intriguing as the watches they helped produce. We asked Meera Ganapathi at The Soup Magazine to bring this story to life for us, and so she did. Portraits by Sameer Raichur.
“My father gave me an HMT Chetan in 1982, it never stopped working”
Stories like these aren’t uncommon. Time has been woven into the country’s consciousness since independence with a famous speech that indelibly marked Indians as midnight’s children. It’s quite poetic that the man behind that speech Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru was also the one who established the country’s earliest means of keeping time with HMT.
In 1961 when HMT started operations, it was an attempt at creating a self-sustained economy that met its own needs. Today watches from that era are looked at with the fondness that often accompanies nostalgia. Twitter threads run soft with sentiment when an old HMT ad pops up. Stories of watches gifted at weddings, passed on from fathers to sons, presented at first jobs, last days of service, graduations and bought with first salaries cram the Internet. Indians loved the watches because they signified a momentous occasion in our lives.
“HMT was like a good-natured family friend”
HMT was also a brand that was warm and personal, like a good-natured family friend. One customer recalls an incident where he bought the HMT Sanjay and was annoyed to discover that ‘4’ was represented as ‘IIII’ instead of the correct Roman numerals ‘IV.’ He remembers writing to the company about this slight upon which he received an immediate response from a manager, “watches are always given the numerals IIII so as not be confused with VI and for symmetrical visual balance.” The customer was impressed by the pains the company took to respond to him personally. Others speak of times when HMT watches were in such great demand that pre-orders were made before the release of a new model. Often people would request for exceptions, “can I get one sooner, it is for my ailing father/my sister’s wedding/my son’s graduation.” Remarkably, sympathetic managers would take this into account and make those exceptions.
“Twice a year, the workers undergo eye-tests.”
The work was indeed rigorous and twice a year, eye-specialists would check on the women to determine their health and suitability for this specialised job. The ladies, however, took great pride in being diligent. Every morning before entering the department they’d set aside the jasmine in their hair and change into freshly laundered work uniforms and scarves to do their bit for the day.
Mrs. Vijayalakshmi describes her punishing schedule with the air of a student who occupies the first bench in every class, “I never took a tea or coffee break even though others would. I would just want to work and work and work. Even if someone gave me extra work I’d be happy to do that as well,” she remembers, “I was very sincere.”
“Watches were named like well loved children. Nutan, Sujata, Rajat, and Sona.”
Named like well-loved children Nutan, Sujata, Rajat, and Sona were best-selling pieces that came to define elegance and durability. Mr. Mallikarjuniah is a soft-spoken but distinguished looking man, dressed in a dark safari suit for the occasion. He remembers a time when the watches created a frenzy in the country. “Many people would want the watches as dowry,” he says in hushed tones. In the glory days of the company, he’d often be accosted for watches by friends and relatives as employees got a discount back then.
In fact, most HMT collectors scramble to own these prized mechanical watches. Mrs. Murthy, who worked in HMT right from the early ‘60s is one such aficionado. Although she checks time on her cell phone now, the practical Mrs. Nagambike Murthy was particularly fond of the watch Nutan which she describes as a ‘modern’ watch in that day. Mechanical watches were well loved perhaps due to the routine of winding up that bound the wearer to his/her piece in many ways.
“I felt like a little girl going to school; I’d forget all my troubles at home.”
Even today, employees like Mrs. Murthy recall the familial atmosphere at the Bangalore factory with a sadness they have now come to accept. As the sole breadwinner in a family of five, Mrs. Murthy was left to fend for her family after her husband unexpectedly passed away. But work saw her through these tough times. “While going to work, I felt like a little girl going to school; I’d forget all my troubles at home.”
Long after the company closed doors, the timepieces continue to be wound, worn and preserved. Today, the watches have come to tell time that has long passed but will always be remembered with affection.
Written by: Meera Ganapathi, Photography: Sameer Raichur.