Amir Suhail Wani
A man in his late fifties, his back slightly hunched with the weight of years, leans forward in quiet concentration as he reads from a timeworn manuscript known locally as Kalbaaf Taleem – the Carpet Weaver’s Instructions. His hands move with practiced ease, meshing threa

ds with delicate precision.
His rhythmic, almost meditative motion speaks of a lifetime of honing skill, but his brow is furrowed with worry. In the next few days, he will complete his masterpiece - a carpet destined to ador
n the halls of palaces or the chambers of Presidents. Yet, even as he weaves, his mind is preoccupied with a deep anxiety – his wages, the looming uncertainty of his livelihood.
The weaver, oblivious to the vast cultural and civilizational value embedded in the fibers he intertwines, is unaware that each thread, each knot, carries the essence of an ancient heritage. His work is not just a craft but a repository of stories, traditions, and an enduring connection to the past.
He is, in his humble act, fusing centuries of history, culture, and civilization into one seamless flow. But despite this, the art he practices is in grave danger. The vibrant tapestry of traditional crafts is fraying, its once-prominent place in society shrinking into the margins. Handicrafts, whether it be the intricate patterns of Pashmina weaving, the delicate artistry of Papermachie, or the timeless elegance of wood carving, are all witnessing the same unfortunate fate.
The handicraft industry, once a cornerstone of our economy and culture, now can not keep pace with the fast-evolving global marketplace. The emergence of mass-produced, machine-made goods has flooded the market, while the shadow of middlemen and exploitative practices exacerbates the plight of artisans. The government, as well as concerned agencies, have turned a blind eye to the crisis. The result is not merely an economic setback but a cultural and civilizational calamity.
