6 days ago
- General
- New Indian Express
Silvery past chandi ka warq in Old Delhi loses shine
NEW DELHI: In the heart of Shahjahanabad—amid the chaos of rickshaws, spice-scented alleys, and crumbling havelis—survive the last whispers of a bygone era.
From the delicate hammering of chandi ka warq (silver leaf) to the smoky shimmer of kalai inside brass utensils, and the rhythmic stitching of hand-bound books to old time deed writers, Old Delhi was once a living museum of handmade tradition.
But now, these once-thriving crafts are disappearing, swept away by mass production, rising costs, and fading relevance in a modern city. In this series, TNIE presents stories to capture not just a profession, but also a legacy on the brink of extinction.
Inside the narrow, bustling lanes of Old Delhi, just past the arched gateway of Turkman Gate and into the quieter alleys of Phatak Telian, time once shimmered—literally. For decades, this tucked-away locality echoed with the rhythmic thud of hammers, beating silver into impossibly thin sheets, known locally as chandi ka warq. Today, that sound has disappeared; replaced by the honk of two-wheelers, the chatter of street vendors, and the creaking of old wooden doors hiding memories of a vanishing trade.
Not only Turkman Gate but Churiwalan, Khari Baoli, Matia Mahal and Chitli Qabar were other places where the manufacturers of silver leaves, lived and made an earning.
The craft of making chandi ka warq, those delicate silver foils that adorn Indian sweets, paan, and even Ayurvedic medicines, was once a thriving cottage industry here. The process was entirely manual. Small lumps of pure silver were placed between layers of ox gut or specially-treated animal membrane, and then beaten for hours until they stretched into gossamer-thin sheets—often thinner than human hair.
'This house used to shine with silver,' said a 68-year-old wife of Haji Mumtiaz recalling the days his husband who died ten years ago used to make the 'warq' just outside his small hose situated in Phatak Telian.
'Ab to chaandi dekhne ko bhi nahi milti…, ek zamana tha jab haathon pe lagi chandi ko chaat liya karte the… ( Now we don't even get to see silver anymore… There was a time when we used to lick the silver foil off our hands.)
She added, 'Haji ji used to beat the hammer all by himself from morning till evening with a single break. Unfortunately, after his demise, none of my kids could continue into that profession. My daughters are somehow managing our survival.'
