Delhiwale: The place of the ‘kalaigar’

This is a coppersmith’s workshop in Old Delhi’s Matia Mahal Bazar. “We call ourselves kalaigar,” says Faisal Qureshi. It is afternoon, and he is working with younger brother, Muhammed Faizan.

The stone floor is pockmarked with a couple of craters filled with smouldering coals. A handful of blackened steel chalnis (strainers) are flung about the place. Then there’s a stack of what appears to be dinner crockery traditional to Walled City dastarkhwans: bowls (called ghauri), katoras, chamchas, bhagonas, and jugs. Their metallic surface is sparkling with a mirror-like shine.

This is a coppersmith’s workshop in Old Delhi’s Matia Mahal Bazar.

This is a coppersmith’s workshop in Old Delhi’s Matia Mahal Bazar. “We call ourselves kalaigar,” says Faisal Qureshi. It is afternoon, and he is working with younger brother, Muhammed Faizan. “We bring out the shine in your bartan.” says Mr Qureshi in a modest tone, explaining that they accomplish this feat by applying a coat of tin on copper vessels. Wearing a check lungi and a shirt—its long sleeves rolled up to his elbows—Mr Qureshi calls himself a third generation kalaigar. “I inherited this profession from my father, Muhammed Irfan, who inherited it from his father, Haji Sharifuddin, whose father, Haji Nasiruddin, ran a meat shop.” The 80-year- old landmark is called Haji Kalaiwale.

In his late 30s, Mr Qureshi is patiently responding to queries even though he is busy at work. Using a tong, he lifts off a jug from fire and plunges it into a tub filled with water. A hissing sound follows.

Otherwise the workshop is snuggled in silence and darkness, in contrast to the chaos of the street outside. A biker passes by, his left arm holding a metal lunch box that is shining as brilliantly as the vessels in Mr Qureshi’s workshop. Perhaps it was given a kalaigar treatment in his place. Mr Qureshi smiles non-committally. “There are 3-4 more kalaigari shops in Old Delhi, apart from a few kalaigars who travel on bicycles.”

Joining the conversation, Mr Qureshi’s brother reveals conspiratorially that their home is upstairs, “just above the dukaan.”

In his 30s, Mr Qureshi says he never felt the urge to break away from his family vocation. “I might have considered it if there were no demand for such work… but we are constantly busy…. customers come from as far as Gurugram and Greater Noida.” Meanwhile Mr Qureshi’s nephew, the young school-going Hammad, is sitting by the entrance, playing a video game on the mobile. “He will be the fourth generation kalaigar,” says Mr Qureshi. The boy blushes.

The “dukaan” shares its wall with Zam Zam Perfumers.