The Fading Echo of the Mumbai's train platform Shoe Shine Boys

I was at the railway station recently when I noticed something that stuck with me. The shoe shine boys—except they weren’t boys at all. Most of them were middle-aged men, sitting quietly beside their wooden boxes, waiting. But what struck me the most was the silence.

I remember a time when their tap-tap—the sound of brushes knocking against the footrest—would echo through the station, a subtle call to travelers in polished leather shoes. But now? That sound is almost gone. The younger crowd walks past in sneakers, canvas shoes, and slip-ons. No shine needed. No business for them.

I watched as they sat there, some still glancing up when someone in formal shoes passed by, but most just staring into the distance. It made me wonder—what happens when your skill, once in demand, no longer has a place? These men aren’t just losing customers; they’re losing their craft, their daily bread, their dignity.

I don’t know what the solution is, but I do know this—if you ever find yourself at a station wearing leather shoes, maybe stop for a shine. Not because you need it, but because they do. Maybe in that moment, we can bring back the tap-tap, if only for a little while.