SRINAGAR (Jammu and Kashmir): The rhythmic clang of a hammer striking copper fills the crisp winter air inside the dimly lit Van Posh workshop. In one hand, Mohammad Aslam Bhat grips a piece of raw copper, shaping it with meticulous precision, while his other hand rests on a Kangri, the traditional Kashmiri fire pot, absorbing its warmth.
The shop, though small and cramped, brims with centuries of tradition, its walls lined with gleaming artefacts — each piece telling a story of resilience, passion, and innovation.
At 50, Aslam is more than just a copper artisan. He is a custodian of history, a trailblazer of innovation, and a dreamer who refuses to let his craft fade into obscurity. Dressed in a checkered pheran of black and white, his weathered face bears the imprints of time, yet his eyes sparkle with the undying passion of a man who has dedicated his life to his craft.
"Craving fame was in my blood from childhood," he says with a wistful smile, pausing for a moment before surveying the masterpieces that have earned him both local reverence and national recognition. "These innovations not only helped me carve my own space, but they also immortalized the centuries-old profession bestowed upon us by the Walis and Sufis."
The roots of Kashmir’s copperware craftsmanship trace back to the 14th century, when the revered Sufi saint Shah-i-Hamadan arrived in the valley, bringing with him a rich tapestry of skills, knowledge, and cultural influences. Among the many crafts he introduced, copper engraving stood out, evolving into a defining hallmark of Kashmiri artistry.
Over centuries, artisans across Kashmir developed exquisite methods to mould copper into elegant samovars, utensils, decorative pieces, and mosque finials. But with time, the advent of mass-produced, machine-made goods began to overshadow this labour-intensive, delicate art form. Many skilled artisans abandoned their trade, unable to compete with the flood of factory-made alternatives.
Aslam, however, was not willing to let go.
"I saw fewer and fewer artisans working with copper," he recalls. "The new generation was losing touch with their roots, and I feared this tradition would die out. I knew something had to change."
Born into a family of copper smiths in Shamaswari, Srinagar, Aslam grew up surrounded by the clang of chisels and the rhythmic pounding of hammers. As a child, he would sit beside his father and grandfather, watching in awe as they shaped dull metal into gleaming artefacts.
"I used to sneak into my father's workshop, picking up the tools and pretending to craft my own designs," he chuckles. "My father never stopped me. He would say, ‘This mischief will make you a master someday.’"
But mastery didn’t come easily. By the time Aslam came of age, Kashmir’s copper industry was facing an existential crisis. The market was flooded with cheap, factory-made copperware, forcing traditional artisans into other professions. Many of Aslam’s peers abandoned the craft, but he refused to surrender.
Instead of competing with mass production, he chose a different path — reinvention.
"I realised that if we wanted to keep this art alive, we had to think beyond traditional utensils. We had to innovate."
Thus began his experimentation — a bold, unconventional approach that blended traditional craftsmanship with contemporary aesthetics.
Reinventing Tradition
Inside his 'Van Posh' workshop, Aslam began crafting decorative copper pieces — jewellery, lamps, furniture, chandeliers, and even miniature architectural models. One of his most celebrated works is a detailed replica of the dome of the Shah-i-Hamadan shrine, an intricate piece that took weeks to perfect.
"At first, I was hesitant to stray from tradition," he admits. "But I felt compelled to try something new. People responded positively, and that encouraged me to keep experimenting."
His fusion of copper with gold-thread embroidery (zari) and papier-mâché became wildly popular, catching the attention of art collectors and designers across India.
Aslam’s creations have since been showcased in prestigious exhibitions, earning him accolades and government recognition. But for him, the greatest reward is seeing young artisans embrace the craft once more.
"It’s not about the recognition; it’s about breathing new life into an art form that I love," he says.
Aslam’s efforts have sparked a revival in Kashmir’s copper industry. By introducing smaller, everyday items like key-chains, wall hangings, ornaments, and contemporary home décor, he has made traditional copperware more accessible and appealing to younger generations.
"There’s a disconnect between young people and traditional crafts," he explains. "But when they see how versatile copper can be, they start appreciating it again."
His designs have attracted customers from across India, and he regularly receives orders from boutique stores and interior designers looking for handcrafted, sustainable décor.
But despite his growing fame, Aslam remains deeply connected to his roots.
"Success doesn’t mean we should forget where we started," he says, gazing around his small workshop, where years of toil have shaped not just copper, but his destiny.
Beyond his own work, Aslam is passionate about teaching. He frequently collaborates with institutions like the Craft Development Institute (CDI) Srinagar, conducting workshops for young artisans.
"I see a great future for this craft if the younger generation embraces it," he says.
Many of his students have gone on to start their own workshops, carrying forward his vision of modernized Kashmiri copperware. He has even been invited to Amritsar, Delhi, and Mumbai to train young craftsmen, proving that the art of copper smithing can thrive beyond the Valley.
"The craft has to evolve. We can’t just stick to the past. But we must stay true to our roots," he insists.
Aslam often reflects on his early days — the hours spent playing with his father’s tools, dreaming of creating something remarkable. Today, those dreams have taken flight, but his feet remain firmly planted in the soil of his ancestors.
"Like a free bird that can perch on any branch, a true craftsman knows no bounds," he muses. "Qasab chu Habibullah — Craft is God’s beloved."
And as the golden glow of his copper masterpieces illuminates his shop, it is clear — Aslam has done more than preserve a dying tradition. He has rekindled its fire, ensuring it burns brightly for generations to come.
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