SEERAT-Un-NISA
SRINAGAR, Dec 27: As Chillai-Kalan—Kashmir’s harshest 40-day winter period—tightens its icy grip over the Valley, the centuries-old kangri has once again reclaimed its place in markets and homes as an essential source of warmth. Yet, beyond this seasonal revival lies a troubling reality: the broader wicker craft, once an inseparable part of Kashmiri life and economy, is steadily slipping towards extinction.
In north Kashmir’s Bandipora district, one of the Valley’s last strongholds of wicker craftsmanship, a small number of artisan families continue to toil day and night to meet the winter demand for kangris. For these craftsmen, winter is not just a season of cold—it is the only time of the year when their traditional skills offer a modest source of livelihood. Outside this brief window, the craft struggles to survive amid changing lifestyles, shrinking markets, and dwindling institutional support.
For centuries, Kashmiri wicker art enjoyed popularity not only within the Valley but also in markets outside the region. Homes across Kashmir were once adorned with wicker-made chairs, tables, baskets, trays, sofas, and decorative items that added a natural aesthetic and warmth to everyday living. However, what was once a thriving cottage industry employing thousands has today been reduced to a marginal, seasonal occupation.
Many artisans who once depended solely on wicker work have now been forced to abandon their ancestral profession. In the absence of sustainable income, they have turned to daily wage labour, construction work, or other menial jobs to make ends meet. The shift reflects a larger transformation in consumer preferences, driven by modernization and the growing use of plastic, glass, and factory-made furniture.
“The wicker craft was once a major industry in Kashmir,” said Dawood Ahmed, a shopkeeper from Bandipora who sells wicker products along the Bandipora–Srinagar highway at Nusoo. Speaking to Kashmir Despatch, he said artisans are struggling hard to preserve Kashmir’s cultural heritage despite numerous challenges.
“Bandipora’s kangri is famous across the Valley,” Ahmed said. “Here, artisans make kangris of different designs and sizes—specially crafted for children, brides, and elders. Each piece reflects skill passed down through generations.”
Explaining the painstaking process behind kangri-making, Ahmed said artisans collect wicker from nearby forests, soak it in water for nearly two days, and then sun-dry it for about 15 days before it is ready to be shaped. “At Al-Dawood Crafts, artisans have also enhanced the traditional kangri by adding aari embroidery to make it more attractive. This innovation has gained public attention, but it is not enough to sustain the craft,” he added.
According to artisans, the lack of consistent government support—whether in the form of subsidies, marketing platforms, or training programmes—has pushed many skilled workers away from the craft. “Without proper backing, it becomes impossible to survive on this art alone,” Ahmed said.
Mohammad Ramzan, another veteran artisan from Bandipora who makes kangris, baskets, gift items, and serving products, echoed similar concerns. He said the demand for wicker products has sharply declined over the past decade as households increasingly opt for plastic and glass alternatives.
“People no longer prefer wicker items for their homes,” Ramzan said. “This not only affects our livelihood but also erases our art, culture, and identity.”
Highlighting the drastic fall in earnings, Ramzan recalled that in 2014 he would earn nearly Rs 1.5 lakh in a single season. “Today, after working for nearly six months, I barely manage to earn Rs 30,000 to Rs 40,000,” he said.
Artisans also point to the growing availability of cheap electric heating appliances as a major reason behind the declining demand for kangris. While electric heaters offer convenience, they have gradually replaced the traditional earthen fire pot that once symbolised Kashmiri winters.
Many craftsmen believe that the survival of wicker art now rests solely on the shoulders of a small group of ageing artisans. The younger generation, seeing no financial security in the craft, prefers to seek daily wage work rather than inherit a profession that has become seasonal and uncertain.
“Only kangri has managed to retain some presence in the market,” said an artisan. “Other wicker products have almost disappeared from everyday life.”
As Kashmir increasingly embraces western lifestyles and modern consumer trends, artisans fear that the gradual erasure of traditional crafts will also lead to the loss of a unique cultural identity. “When traditions disappear, we lose what makes us distinct from the rest of the world,” they warned.
For Kashmir’s wicker artisans, the warmth of the kangri may still fend off winter’s chill—but without urgent support and renewed appreciation, the craft itself may not survive many more seasons.
