Falak Bilal
Srinagar, June 4: In a modest workshop tucked away in the historic locality of Rainawari, the sound of needles passing through wool continues to echo against the tide of changing times. Here, 68-year-old Ghulam Hussain Wani performs a craft so precise that when he finishes repairing a carpet, even its owner struggles to find the damaged spot.
“Every carpet has a history,” Wani says, carefully examining an intricate floral design. “When I repair one, I am not just fixing fabric. I am preserving someone’s memory, someone’s heritage.”
Over the years, he developed an eye for details invisible to most people. Matching decades-old colours, recreating lost patterns, and rebuilding damaged foundations require extraordinary patience and technical skill.
“One wrong knot can disturb the entire design,” he explains. “The challenge is to make the repair disappear completely.”
His reputation gradually spread beyond Kashmir. Collectors, dealers, and homeowners from cities such as Delhi, Mumbai, and Hyderabad sought his expertise for valuable carpets that demanded careful restoration.
Among the most difficult assignments are antique and rare Iranian carpets, many of which carry complex designs and unique weaving techniques. Restoring such pieces often involves painstaking research and weeks of meticulous work.
“There are times when I spend days studying a pattern before touching a single thread,” Wani says. “You must understand how the original weaver thought.”
Despite his expertise, Wani says the craft has lost much of its former recognition. Machine-made alternatives, changing consumer preferences, and declining interest among younger generations have left traditional carpet restoration struggling for survival.
“People appreciate the finished work, but very few want to learn the skill behind it,” he says with a hint of concern. “This art is slowly disappearing.”
Today, the workshop that once witnessed a steady flow of apprentices stands largely quiet. Few young people are willing to invest years mastering a craft that demands patience more than profit.
Yet Wani continues to work every day, driven by both necessity and devotion to his trade.
“This is what I know, and this is what I love,” he says. “As long as my hands can hold a needle, I will continue.”
In a world increasingly drawn to the new, Ghulam Hussain Wani remains committed to saving the old. Every restored carpet that leaves his workshop carries more than repaired threads—it carries rescued history, revived craftsmanship, and stories that might otherwise have been lost forever.
While many artisans create masterpieces, Wani’s life’s work has been devoted to ensuring that masterpieces endure.