Delhiwale: The world according to a shoeshine’s peti

A wooden rack, decked with glamorous photos, gives a glimpse of its owner’s life.

Ram Sewak’s shoeshine establishment is so small that he can lay out all his tools on the footpath, carefully arrange them in order, and then pack them back into his bag—in five minutes flat.

Ram Sevak’s father, also a shoeshine, gave him the box for his new life in the Capital, some 15 years ago. (HT Photo)

This morning, the gentleman is waiting for customers on a central Delhi pavement. He is sitting barefoot, his pink flip-flops lying beside him. A closer inspection reveals this isn’t just another ordinary shoeshine stall. There’s this beautiful wood rack stacked with no less than five shoe brushes, while its lower shelf houses various types of shoe polishes.

You don’t commonly see such a rack.

“It’s called peti,” says Mr Sewak, who’s had the rack with him since moving to Delhi some 15 years ago from Kasganj in UP. His father, also a shoeshine, gave him the peti for his new life in the Capital.

“I boarded the train all by myself and lived alone for some years,” says the 38-year-old cobbler. But now he has his own family: his wife Kallo, their two children, and his “saali” Asha, whose passport-sized photo is stuck on the peti.

Ram Sevak’s shoeshine box is stacked with five shoe brushes, while its lower shelf houses various types of shoe polishes.

The man has no taste for movies in any event. He’s never been to any “picture hall” in Delhi. The only film he ever saw was in his hometown—the 1971 blockbuster Mera Gaon Mera Desh. He now hums a song from that film while waiting for customers (“Kurta hai neela, rang pagdi ka peela”).

Time passes. No luck.

The cobbler packs up his tools and walks away carrying his peti.