
The coin
At the centre of the dial sits a real coin. It is a one-rupee piece from 1947, one of the last coins of British India. One side carries the king. The side that faces up carries a tiger, walking.
I like to think about where that coin has been. It passed from hand to hand in a country about to become free. Nobody spending it could have known it would end up keeping time. Each time I check the hour, I am looking at a small piece of 1947.




