Death of a Brand: The HMT Saga (Part 1) What happens when a brand dies? HMT Watches, India’s government owned watch company sold more than a 100 million watches before it shut its factories in 2016. It was once a symbol of a rapidly industrializing India, but what is the legacy it leaves behind today?
Once the symbol of a rapidly industrializing India. The defunct Indian brand of HMT Watches stands alone in watchmaking history for valid reasons. For one, few other companies can speak of leaving behind a colony of unemployed workers so large, it might overshadow an African war zone. That is to imply how vast the empire of HMT (Hindustan Machine Tools) Watches once was.
The HMT Colony is a testament to its former glory. Regrettably, there aren’t many accounts of HMT’s serial innovations. In its pursuit of setting watchmaking standards, the company went all out to manufacture every component in-house, setting up extended units to make mainsprings, hair springs, gears, pinions, shock absorber parts and even watch cases. Few companies in the world can make such a claim. For a fair note, there isn’t likely to be a shortage of HMT spare parts until the end of time. HMT’s achievements, meanwhile, such as the first Braille watch and India‘s first quartz watch in 1981, amount to little more than an assortment of plaques on the walls of the company’s administrative offices. The story of HMT Watches has all the makings of an epic saga, about the rise and fall of a megacorporation between 1953 and 2016, a tale of intense nationalistic idealism bowing out to contemporary demands, and eventually, rendered obsolete by its own insufficiencies. At its core, the story is riddled with ironies. HMT watches – quartz, automatic and mechanical – are considered highly dependable even today; albeit, while being stripped down for spare parts.
At its peak, HMT manufactured every component in-house. At its peak in the 1980s, HMT had up to five factories – two in Bangalore, Karnataka, one at the industrial city of Tumkur, and one each at Srinagar, Kashmir and Ranibagh, in Nainital District, Uttarakhand. The watches made HMT a colossal success, even as the brand stays afloat today with its tractors and machinery divisions. For over half a century, the most part of independent India, HMT Watches were emblematic of the “Made in India” dream, living up its tagline as the official “Timekeepers of the Nation.” By the end of 2016, the last of HMT’s highly prized machines were being auctioned off and craned out of its factories. In due course, the factories will be razed to the ground. On a late October morning last year (2016), at the HMT gates, we ran into Dhimant Kumar, a businessman from Rajkot, in a furious kerfuffle with the factory’s security personnel. Kumar recounted his tale of woe, of dealing with the company’s state-run administration. The HMT Watch factories, although in a deplorably tumble-down condition, retain their “Z Security Zone” status, Kumar pointed out, ranting against a bunch of stiff-necked officials delaying his paperwork. “This is the reality of [Indian Prime Minister Narendra] Modi’s ‘Make in India’ campaign,” said a despairing Kumar.
. Kumar successfully bid for a handful of HMT’s high-precision Swiss-made EWAG (brand) machines – state-of-the-art equipment by current industry standards, he said with some pride. He plans to refurbish the machines to make and supply components for watchmakers such as Timex and Fossil. The incident almost sums up the fate of the HMT Watches empire. Unsurprisingly, HMT watches rarely have glowing passages made out for discerning connoisseurs, there are no grand complications or lavishly decorated movements. HMT watches were decidedly subdued in design, being essentially unfussy, hardy timepieces – qualities that loyal fans continue to extol.
Lately, the affordable retro-cool factor has spawned a crowd of enthusiasts, fostering a culture of low-cost, high-esteem collecting. The thing about HMT watches was that they were readily favored as gifts, reasoned Jayesh Srinivasan, a university student in Chennai. For his own collection, Jayesh began picking up HMTs among his friends and family. But where HMT watches were once attested accessories for the brightest students of the day, the brand failed to find favor among younger crowds taking to the snazz of watches by Swatch, Timex, Titan Fastrack and fashion brands like Diesel, Tommy Hilfiger, Armani and so on.
There’s a lot more to speak of by way of the HMT design ethic, as much as its failure to evolve is cited as a crucial reason that led to the company’s demise. HMT’s designs flourished with a simple strategy of personifying Indian identities, churning out models with names that seemed like they were from a roll call in a desi version of Malory
Towers or Hogwarts: Adarsh, Amar, Ajay, Ajeet, Akash, Arjun, Ashok, Avinash, Deepak, Bindu, Dipti, Gouri, Harsha, Jayanth, Kailash, Kamal, Kanchan, Karan, Karna, Karthik, Kedar, Kiran, Nishant, Nutan, Prabhat, Priya, Rachana, Rajani, Rekha, Rohit, Roshan, Sandeep, Shilpa, Sourab, Surya, Tejus, Tushar, Usha, Veena, Vijay and Vikas. The names never got any more inventive than Samay (Hindi for time), Sainik (soldier), Shakti (strength), Sona (gold), Tareeq (date) and Jubilee. The designs were predominantly stark, given the slightest flourishes, with the exception of festive HMT releases (picture Hindu deities, and the Indian tricolors on the dials). The brightly colored versions that find favor on HMT forums include the blush-pink Rajat, the ultramarine Kohinoor, the pale yellow Chethan, variations of the Pilot in purple, Arctic blue and seaweed green, the emerald Jawan, the scarlet Janata and the marigold Jhelum.
In the second of our two-part series, we visit the spiritual home of the brand to get a sense of the legacy that this watch brand leaves behind. For one, few other companies can speak of leaving behind a colony of unemployed workers so large, it might overshadow an African war zone. By Jaideep Sen, Contributing Writer | March 09, 2017 By Ayush Ranka, Photographer | March 09, 2017
The HMT factory in Bangalore is now closed and machines sold. You can read the first part of the story by clicking here.
The most prominent testament to the watchmaker’s glory was the HMT Colony, on the outskirts of Bangalore. Not so long ago, this was a picture of proletarian éclat, of an entire settlement working like clockwork to drive a growing economy. Here, you might say that the HMT legacy rests in a swamp of its own. One that is hundreds of acres wide. All of it prime real estate, surrounded by soaring residential tower blocks.
. The HMT Colony was set up around four sprawling manufacturing plants, all of which are now locked down, and unworthy of any manner of salvage operations. Only one HMT machine tools unit remains active, with about 500 paid employees. Our photographer and I jumped over the compound walls of one of these factories. Clearly, not many people had ventured this far recently. The guards had long deserted their posts and the premises had turned into something of a community kennel for mongrels and strays of the neighborhood. I risked tip-toeing over the creaky walkways to gain a sense of an HMT floor manager‘s rounds. Admittedly, I came back with little more to report than a picture of rotting columns, decaying pillars, flecks of plaster and heaps of rusted metal layered by the dust of years of neglect. The impressions you’re left to conjure are of a bustling production environment in the black and white era, with hordes of togged-up workers cranking out sparkling pieces of engineering.
At the heart of the crumbling colony, which includes a hospital, a shopping complex and a theatre – all structures in varying degrees of disrepair, lay the empty HMT School’s ground. The assemblies were dispersed a few terms ago; only a section of the building is functional, where free classes are held for children from the nearby villages of Kammagondahalli, Chikbanavara and Dasarahalli. It’s a telling picture, of the bells ringing over the HMT empire. Krishna Reddy, a volunteer at the school and former HMT employee, said the classes – held only from Grade VI to VIII, are funded by private donors. “The state gave up on HMT, and all of us, a long time ago,” said Krishna. “It’s only a matter of time. We’re waiting to see what happens next,” he said. The textbooks and stationery are all donated. Krishna beckoned a few students and said, pointing at their clothes, which were patently re-stitched,“See, old HMT uniforms.” For the most part, the HMT Colony is a set for B-grade haunted-mansion movies. At night, the lights from the apartments around raise a dim glow over the HMT grounds, like hangdog floodlights looming over an abandoned arena marked for demolition.
At Bangalore‘s roadside watch-servicing stalls, second-hand HMTs are still immensely popular, alongside retro Seikos and Citizens. It is a defining picture – an antique HMT cradled in the crinkly hands of a veteran repairman like Riyaz Pasha, in an alleyway of Ulsoor Market. If HMT made an art form of watchmaking, it lives on in the hands of native experts like Riyaz. At stores like Riyaz’s, used HMTs sell for between INR500 (About $8) and INR1,500 ($22). While unopened HMT packages are on offer online for as little as INR599 ($9) up to INR 28,500 ($420) for the 17 Jewels HMT Jhalak. The earliest HMT models featuring Citizen movements are the most valued. For most enthusiasts, HMT watches are keepsakes invested greatly with sentimental value, if not direct monetary worth. Back at the colony, come evening, the crowds gather on benches around a community field, watching the fleet-footed contests of barefoot scamps in replica jerseys of international teams. The sentiments are mixed among the elderly gents. Many of them sport HMTs of choice. But
they’re certain that the watches are unlikely to be prized by their children. The name HMT is of meager import in its own backyard. And that, unfortunately, is how the HMT legacy will rest.