During one of my customary weekend motorcycle escapades to Mussourie astride my cherished Yezdi Roadster, an unexpected halt beckoned me towards Sabri Bought & Sold, nestled along the most serpentine byway in Mussourie. The allure was irresistible, whether it was the colossal wooden pinhole camera, the Lambretta for children on display, or the myriad treasures within—vintage Matchbox miniature diecast cars, grandfather clocks, maps, binoculars, paintings, silverware, and a trove of ancient cameras visible from the entrance.

Having traversed numerous stores adorned with artificially antiqued wares, Sabri Bought & Sold stood apart. Ayub Sabri, the proprietor, was engrossed in tending to a handful of patrons, prompting me to patiently await my turn to engage him in conversation. My intention was to document him navigating the intricate facets of managing his store, with a particular focus on capturing the essence of patience integral to his trade.

Ayub, effortlessly personifying patience, graciously allowed me to photograph him amidst the meticulous arrangement and rearrangement of the antique treasures. He generously shared insights into the aristocratic lineage of various gadgets, offering a glimpse into a world where time unfolds at its own unhurried pace. The session extended to his tranquil abode downstairs, affording me the opportunity to photograph Ayub in his personal space.

The zenith of this enriching encounter materialised when Ayub, in a display of unwavering patience, waited as I deliberated over my selection of a vintage camera—the gateway to my inaugural venture into the realm of antiques. The enduring lesson gleaned from this experience is that intricacies demand time, and Ayub's repository of treasures is unequivocally not a haven for those in haste.