Nawakadal artisan rebuilds dreams through needlework
Falak Bilal
Srinagar, May 2: In a quiet corner of Nawakadal, where narrow lanes echo with the rhythm of daily life, a small workshop hums with quiet determination. Inside, hands move swiftly over fabric, needles gliding in practiced arcs. At the center of it all sits Neelofar, her focus unwavering, her story stitched into every thread she pulls.
What appears today as a thriving hub of craftsmanship began with uncertainty, sacrifice, and a decision that would change everything.Neelofar’s journey into crewel and chain stitch embroidery began long before she imagined it would become her livelihood. As a young girl, she learned the intricate techniques at home—skills passed down through generations.
After marriage, her learning deepened under the guidance of her father-in-law, who refined her craft and instilled discipline in her work.“Embroidery was never just work for me,” Neelofar says, her hands still moving as she speaks.
“It was always part of who I am. Even when life became difficult, I couldn’t let go of it.”For years, the craft sustained her family. But like many traditional artisans, Neelofar faced a harsh downturn. Orders slowed, income dwindled, and uncertainty crept in.
“There was a time when we didn’t know how we would manage the next month,” she recalls. “The work just wasn’t coming in.”Where many might have stepped away, Neelofar chose to begin again—this time on her own terms.
With just ₹4000 in hand—and after selling her gold—Neelofar reopened her workshop. It was a gamble, one that came with no guarantees.“It was not an easy decision,” she admits. “Selling my gold meant letting go of security. But I believed that if I didn’t take that step, nothing would change.”
Her husband became her partner in the truest sense—supporting operations, connecting with customers, and helping market their work.“He believed in me even when things looked uncertain,” Neelofar says.
“We built this together.”What started as a small restart has grown into something far larger than Neelofar had imagined. Today, her workshop is a source of livelihood for nearly 40 women—many of whom had never worked outside their homes before.
“These women are incredibly talented,” Neelofar says. “They just needed an opportunity.”The workshop has become more than a workplace—it is a space of independence and dignity.
Women gather not just to work, but to learn, share, and support each other.One of the artisans, Rukhsana, shares, “Before this, I depended entirely on my family. Now I earn, I contribute, and I feel confident. This place has changed my life.”
Neelofar’s work also plays a vital role in preserving Kashmir’s centuries-old embroidery traditions, which have faced increasing competition from machine-made products.
“Hand embroidery carries soul,” she says firmly. “Every piece tells a story. Machines cannot replace that.”By training others, she ensures that the craft continues—not just as heritage, but as a viable livelihood.
Neelofar’s journey is not just about business success; it is about resilience and belief.“There will always be challenges,” she says. “But a woman doesn’t need permission to dream. She only needs the courage to start.”
Her story, born in a modest workshop in Nawakadal, now resonates far beyond its walls—a reminder that even in the face of loss, rebuilding is possible. And sometimes, all it takes is a single thread to begin again.
