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Cobblers’ corridor at Sec 17, Chandigarh: A passage through time

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Illustration: Sandeep Joshi
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Next to Neelam Cinema in Sector 17, Chandigarh, runs a narrow, covered corridor. For decades, cobblers have sat here, repairing or polishing shoes.

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As a child, I avoided this corridor. It looked grimy. The cobblers would call out, often enticing customers with a low price, but demanding more after the job. I had fallen victim a few times. I never understood why they cheated. Years later, I realised that their small gains, whatever the means, were often the difference between eating or going hungry.

Now I visit the corridor often. With time, some have become friends. I know them by name—Joginder, Moni, Goni, Rajveer. The haggling has stopped for polishing or any repairs. When I reach for my wallet, they often say, “Agli baar”. It’s no longer a business exchange, but mutual respect. Maybe, I changed. Maybe, they did. Over the years, they stopped seeing me as a passer-by, and I stopped seeing them as nameless workers.

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But I don’t always look forward to going there, knowing that each time I might find an empty spot where a familiar face once sat. A cobbler I’ve spoken to is gone — dead from illness or alcohol. No ceremony. Just a nod from the others. “Gaya,” someone informs succinctly, his voice low. Then one day, a new face is there. Sometimes, it’s a son, grown tall behind the same box.

Their brushes have more memories than bristles. They tell me about their lives. Wives back home in one-room houses. Children working as vendors, cobblers, or three-wheeler drivers. No stable income, no pension, no fall-back. What they earn depends on the weather, the crowd, and whether someone needs shoes fixed that day.

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Some evenings, I invite a few for a drink at the Gymkhana Bar near Neelam Cinema. We talk — not just about work or money, but about things they rarely share. Sometimes they ask me about writing or poetry. Sometimes we sit in silence.

There’s nothing romantic about their work. It’s hard and thankless. But they persist — no complaints, no demands — just the steady effort to stay afloat.

That corridor reveals more about this city than any seminar or survey. It shows what struggle looks like, and what quiet dignity means.

Manu Kant, Chandigarh

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