On that part of Kutchery Road, where the Buckingham Canal flows sluggishly under a bridge, S. Shakil Ahmed operates from a shop smaller than a niche in a dovecote. The shop was once larger, recalls Shakil, but as the owner reclaimed a part of it for another enterprise, it shrunk to its present dimensions. But this small shop still catches the eye for its wall displays: clocks, either demode or delectably antique, depending on the eye beholding them. Another eye-catching feature is the enseigne above the entrance that announces the enterprise as Peer & Sons. When quizzed about the name and its homonymic alignment with the iconic P. Orr & Sons on Mount Road, Shakil sounds a tad amused as he offers a reply: obviously, when they see this shop, they know the two are galaxies apart. But when they hear the name ‘Peer & Sons’ over the phone, they would be confused for a split second. And the name was not carefully chosen to evoke that iconic shop, remarks Shakil, just to reflect that it was started by his father S.K. Peer.S.K. Peer had opened this shop in 1963 and continued in the saddle till his demise in 2008. Shakil relishes reminiscing about the unquestioning obedience with which he followed in his father’s footsteps, not in 2008 but way back in 1991 when the senior was at the height of his prowess as a mender of timepieces and he was just a school student. Shakil joined his father as his understudy in 1991, right after finishing his Class X board exams.
Madras Day 2026: alone with the timepieces in tiny Peer & Sons
At watch and clock repair shop Peer & Sons, established in 1963, a son is keeping his father’s memory alive by enthusiastically practicing a skill imparted to him by the senior








