Sole stitchers of the city

CHENNAI: Often found on the roadside, it was interesting to know that chappal-stitching was not their first career choice for the sole stitchers. In fact, more often than not, it seems a choice of retirement, for the flexible work hours and (not to sound insensitive here), charge-free office space. Here are a few of Chennai’s regular chappal patchwork artists, from a box on the posh pavements of Nungambakkam to a spread sack in a line of hawkers near Moore Market, and their thoughts on serving you.Vinayagam, Nelson Manickam road This 63-year old has been interested in mending torn soles and chappal-toe straps, ever since his grandfather set-up a shop of his own, back in the day. “While all the boys went to play or went back home after school, I would go and sit with my grandfather and watch,” he says. Vinayagam himself only studied upto Class 4, and after that has lent his services to private companies as a mobile crane mechanic and as a security guard. “That job needed a lot of travelling, I had to take a bus in the hot sun, and it became difficult for me to keep up,” he rues. And that’s when he decided to get back to his roots, five years ago, and open up shop. “My home is very near,” he gestures to a lane off the busy Nelson Manickam road. “And I make `150-300 maximum, a day. Although I charge `30 odd for a job, if somebody comes with only `15 in their pocket I’d do it.” He confesses that rainy days are almost always an excuse for a holiday. He points to the leather chappals he is currently weaving through. “Lots of my customers come to me with a brand new pair of chappals, just to stitch the soles, so that they won’t open up in the rain.” Venkadesan, Nungambakkam High RoadParked outside the Ispahani Centre on Nungambakkam High Road, this 65-year old has acquired one of the city’s prime locations, with the mall behind him and the MOP Vaishnav College for Women, just a street away. His tiny shack is impressive, with pencil drawn sketches of custom-made shoes that he makes himself — ranging from Kolapuris (`250) to men’s formals (`750) and even a stylish ankle high model for men that he likes to call, ‘Zip shoes’ (`1,000). His friends at the auto stand right in front, are rather protective of the old man, and cluster around excitedly to clarify that all these questions about his livelihood. However, Venkadesan is self assured and answers without a moment’s hesitation. “See, I’ve had lots of problems with the police. Thrice, they have come to my shop and broken it down. So now, I make it a point to keep my license ready.” He shows us a tattered sheet of official print. Then, very importantly points his index finger to the printouts adjacent to his footwear designs. “These are printouts of articles, (Tamil and English)  stating that there is a High Court ruling that authorities cannot remove bunks established for cobblers.”Kattaiyan, Central Station An unlikely place to look for barbie footwear is outside the subway opposite Central Station. This cobbler might not know it yet, but his miniature golden-glitter coated platform heels (he calls them show pieces), would be any eight-year-olds pride and joy of her doll house. KN Kattaiyan, two years shy of 70, has a steady flow of customers to his pavement dwelling. “I have a subway with Cental Station opposite and the Park Station behind me. What more do I need?” He cleverly shades himself from the sun with a makeshift overhead cover of flattened cardboard boxes strung with some thread and introduces himself as the sole maker of footwear show pieces in all of Tamil Nadu.“Once, I had a foreigner come and pay me `200 for just 3 pairs, but actually I charged only `15 per pair.” Kattaiyan seems to have no worries about the police, the summer heat or even his meagre salary. His only complaint: “During rainy days, I get lots of business, but everyone takes shelter on the subway steps, so I have no place to sit.”