Young artisan revives Karakuli craft in Srinagar

Falak Bilal

Srinagar, Apr 08: Tucked within the bustling lanes of Nawabazar, where old Srinagar breathes through wooden storefronts and time-worn walls, a quiet revival is underway. Inside a modest shop named Kashmir Cap House, 20-year-old Fazil Riyaz Jan is crafting more than just headwear—he is stitching together history, identity, and a renewed sense of pride.

Seated behind a low workbench, Fazil’s hands move with care and precision as he shapes a Karakuli cap, a symbol once deeply woven into Kashmir’s cultural fabric. Each fold, each curve, reflects not just skill, but inheritance—a legacy that dates back to 1920 when his great-grandfather first opened the shop.
“This place carries my family’s soul,” Fazil says softly. “I grew up watching it, and now I feel responsible for keeping it alive.”
The Karakuli cap—often referred to as the Jinnah cap—was once an essential part of traditional attire in the Valley. It adorned the heads of scholars, elders, and grooms, representing dignity and cultural identity. But over time, as global fashion trends took hold, the cap gradually disappeared from everyday wear, especially among the youth.
“There was a time when every household valued it,” he recalls. “But slowly, it became something only older people wore. That’s when I realised something had to change.”
His journey into the craft began not with formal instruction, but with quiet observation. As a schoolboy, Fazil would spend hours beside his grandfather, absorbing the nuances of the trade.
“I learned by watching him work,” he says. “At first, I made many mistakes, but that’s how I improved. This craft teaches patience more than anything else.”
Today, each cap he produces is handcrafted from start to finish—a process that takes five to six hours. He sources raw Karakul wool directly from Afghanistan, ensuring the authenticity and durability that define traditional Karakuli caps.
Yet, what distinguishes Fazil is not just his craftsmanship, but his vision.
Determined to reconnect younger generations with their heritage, he began experimenting with designs. Alongside classic styles, he introduced variations inspired by Pakol caps, Iranian patterns, and modern peaked designs. The result is a collection that feels both rooted and relevant.
“Tradition doesn’t have to be outdated,” Fazil explains. “It just needs to evolve with time. When young people see something that matches their style, they feel proud to wear it.”
College students now walk into his shop looking for caps that blend culture with contemporary fashion. Wedding guests seek customised pieces that stand out while staying traditional. Cultural events have once again begun to feature the Karakuli as a statement of identity.
Social media has further amplified his efforts. By showcasing his work online, Fazil has attracted attention far beyond the Valley, with orders arriving from different parts of India and even overseas.
“Social media gave my work a voice,” he says. “People connect not just with the product, but with the story behind it.”
Despite the growing demand, Fazil remains committed to preserving the essence of the craft. He continues to handcraft each piece himself, resisting the temptation to mass-produce.
“If I rush it or make it in bulk, it will lose its soul,” he insists. “Every cap deserves time and care.”
For local residents and customers, his work represents more than a business—it is a reminder that tradition can survive, even thrive, when placed in the right hands.
“Seeing someone so young take this forward gives us hope,” says a regular customer. “It shows that our culture is not fading—it’s transforming.”
As the afternoon light filters into the shop, Fazil carefully places a finished cap on display, ready to find a new owner. For him, each piece is not just a product, but a story—of where it comes from, and where it can go.
“I want people to feel connected when they wear it,” he says. “Not just to fashion, but to their roots.”
In a world racing toward the new, Fazil Riyaz Jan is proving that sometimes, the way forward lies in rediscovering the past—and reshaping it for the present.