Amina weaves hope into Kashmir’s fading Waguv tradition

Falak Bilal

Srinagar, Jun 6: In a modest home surrounded by stacks of dried reeds and bundles of rice straw, Amina’s hands move with practiced precision. Strand by strand, she weaves a Waguv—a traditional Kashmiri mat whose story stretches back nearly three centuries.

For generations, Waguv was a household essential across Kashmir. Crafted from Typha reeds and rice straw, the handwoven mats served multiple purposes, keeping homes warm during harsh winters and cool in the summer months. More than a floor covering, they were part of the region’s cultural identity.
Today, however, the craft stands on the edge of disappearance.
With modern flooring materials replacing traditional household items, the demand for Waguv has steadily declined. Yet Amina remains determined to ensure that the centuries-old art does not vanish.
“I learned this craft from my parents when I was very young,” she says, carefully tightening a row of woven reeds. “Every design, every pattern carries memories of the people who taught me. When I weave, I feel connected to them.”
Working alongside her husband, Amina relies on Waguv-making as her family’s primary source of income. Despite the challenges, she continues the painstaking process that can take days to complete a single mat.
“There are times when sales are slow, but giving up is not an option,” she says. “This craft feeds my family and preserves our heritage. If we stop, a part of our history will disappear.”
Local artisans say the decline of traditional crafts has become a growing concern as younger generations seek alternative livelihoods. The intricate work requires patience, skill and long hours, often with limited financial returns.
Yet Amina sees opportunity where others see decline.
Her dream is not only to preserve Waguv but also to create livelihoods for women in her community. She has opened her doors to anyone interested in learning the craft and offers training free of charge.
“If more women learn this skill, they can earn from home and support their families,” she says. “Knowledge should be shared. I don’t want this art to end with my generation.”
Neighbours and fellow artisans describe her as a quiet but determined guardian of tradition.
“Amina is doing more than making mats,” says a local resident familiar with her work. “She is protecting a cultural legacy that many people have forgotten.”
As modernization continues to reshape lifestyles across the Valley, artisans like Amina remain among the few custodians of traditional crafts that once defined everyday life.
Back at her weaving frame, the rhythmic movement of reeds continues. Each mat she completes represents not just craftsmanship, but resilience — a refusal to allow centuries of knowledge to fade away.
In every strand she weaves lies a story of survival, heritage and hope.
Some traditions endure not because they are profitable or easy, but because someone chooses to carry them forward.