Kashmir: Like the houseboats, their makers are also fading into the fog of time

For nearly 43 long years, Apollo Eleven silently witnessed Kashmir’s transition from being a Bollywood’s favourite shooting destination to a violent conflict zone and also its journey from being a state to its downgrading to a Union Territory. As Kashmir and its people endured violence interspersed with phases of deceptive calm when tourists flocked to it, Apollo Eleven, a houseboat, carved out a space for itself in the long line of houseboats in Dal Lake that have come to characterise Kashmir’s tourism.

Having braved warping and other degradation challenges posed by the harsh winters and rains and the continuous standing in water, Apollo Eleven faced its worst crisis in the winter this year as an accidental fire engulfed the legacy boat. As Zahoor Ahmad stood and watched the houseboat go up in flames and fire tenders make a desperate bid to save whatever was possible to salvage, Ahmad wasn’t just counting his losses. He was also worried about how he would get the boat up and running again.

“I was ready to invest Rs 2.5 crore to rebuild my legacy houseboat, but there was hardly any worker in sight,” recalls Zahoor. “From a business point of view, it was not a good idea to invest so much money, but I had to resurrect my forefathers’ heritage.”

To rebuild the boat, Zahoor needed the finest craftsmen but the only thing which has come to be more elusive in Kashmir than an assured flow of tourists, amid regular instances of violence and resultant curfews, is craftsmen to build, repair or renovate houseboats. Zahoor finally managed to get Ghulam Rasool Najar and Nazir Ahmad Kawdari to do the work.

 

Traditionally, the floating houses, serving as a tourist attraction, were decked and decorated by special carpenters who were called in from Old Srinagar city. But prolonged curfews and shutdowns that hit tourism hard made the art less lucrative. Young people did not show interest in it as it did not look profitable enough. Meanwhile, the old tribe either changed its line of work or just faded away with time.

“Today, most craftsmen have deserted the Valley’s floating legacy,” Zahoor says. “This situation doesn’t bode too well for the existence of the houseboat industry of Kashmir.”

Standing afloat in a long row, the houseboats have been a major attraction for sightseers for decades. This year, amid the unprecedented rush of tourists in Kashmir, the houseboats were almost booked since the onset of spring.

But the people associated with the houseboat business are finding it hard to manage the manpower. The years of distress seem to have done irreparable damage for the unsung skilled hands forcing them to pull away from the industry.

Since insurgency started in Kashmir during the late 1980s, the number of houseboats has come down from 3,000 to reportedly 900. “The 900-figure is also from three years back. Since then about 30 boats have been phased out. Many houseboats sank in water as they were without repairs and could not sustain. A few caught fire,” says Abdul Rashid, general secretary, Kashmir Houseboat Owners Association.

While the situation has compelled craftsmen to switch to other lines of work, three artisans – Ghulam Rasool Najar, Nazir Ahmad Kawdari and Abdul Khaliq Najar – are still holding the fort and sustaining the iconic houseboat industry.

Ghulam Rasool Najar, an octogenarian with a beaming smile and a flowing beard, has been busy of late restoring Zahoor’s Apollo. He, along with Kawdari, hopes to finish their work sooner than later.

“I started to work as a houseboat artist in 1952,” says Rasool Najar. “My father was famous for making the hull, the bottom of the houseboat. But I learnt building walls, roofs and windows as well, taking forward the legacy.”

The first houseboat on which Rasool Najar worked as a master carpenter was the Major Houseboat that stands in Nigeen Lake. Since then, he has never looked back and claims to have constructed around 45 per cent of houseboats in the famed Dal Lake. Wangnoo Sheraton, New Gorkha and Butterfly are some of the houseboats which Najar helped gain an iconic status.

“Houseboat carpenters are different from normal carpenters working in houses,” says Najar.

It takes around 15-18 months to construct a houseboat. “It’s a labour of love,” Najar says. “It takes sweat and blood to make this masterpiece shine.”

Normally, at least three master carpenters come together to construct a houseboat. The most specialised one makes the hull. While another one takes care of the walls and roof, the third one focuses on the interiors of woodwork that display exquisite art and craftsmanship of Kashmiri artisans.

Like Najar, Nazir Ahmad Kawdari was quite young when he joined the line. He was the 11th generation in the family to do so. But his sons decided to take up different professions. “The craft is already at the last stage,” Kawdari says. “People hardly make houseboats. The last houseboat which I made was in 2019.”

Kawdari had started in a different era. It was 1975, when Kawdari, then 15, got training in making the hull at a dockyard in Nowpora, Srinagar. After nearly two decades of learning, he could make the whole houseboat, which earned him the title of wasta (master).

According to Kawdari, the most severe blow to his tribe was dealt by a ban on the construction of new houseboats and repair of old ones.

In 2010, the Jammu and Kashmir High Court banned all kinds of construction in Dal and Nigeen Lakes. The government cited pollution in the lake as the reason to enforce the ban. The court also issued directions that licenses should not be renewed without special permission, which hampered the regular and timely repairs and service of houseboats.

“Houseboats remain in water for years and therefore need regular service and renovations,” Kawdari says. “But due to the ban, many houseboats withered and sank in the waters. In fact, many houseboats were damaged in the 2014 floods.”

“Instead of banning construction work on houseboats, the government should get efficient sewage plants in place to treat the waste coming out of houseboats and curb pollution,” says Irfan Ahmad, an environmentalist based in Kashmir.

“Currently, only a few houseboats have sewerage systems in place,” he adds. “Also, the focus should be put on the urban expansion in the catchment of the lake, which has risen by over 300 per cent in the last five decades, as this also is a major source of pollution for the lake. The sewage treatment plants located around the peripheries of the lake are only adding insult to injury.”

If this happens, Kawdari says, then his tribe might grow again and sustain the iconic industry. “It’s all about a far-sighted policy,” the carpenter says. “If you have it, then you are fixing many of your problems. If you don’t, then the problems continue.”

Even as the government of the day has announced a new policy aimed at preserving houseboats, Kawdari doesn’t seem too hopeful.

“Getting permission for renovation work is still a tedious process,” he says. “It takes around nine months to get permission from different government departments. During the course of this running around for permissions either the owner loses the energy and inclination to pursue or the boat just sinks due to the neglect.”

“The government policy has many flaws. We rejected it. For them, houseboats are heritage only on paper, not on ground. The complete ban on new construction of houseboats is still there. Since the 2014 floods, the dockyard in Nowpora, where the repair of houseboats used to happen, is still not functional,” says Abdul Rashid.

The industry directly supports thousands of people.

“Roughly 15,000 people are directly associated with the houseboat trade as owners, staff or artisans. Another 25,000 depend on it indirectly,” says Abdul Rashid.

Despite the apathy, Kawdari realises the value of his art when researchers from far and wide flock to him with questions on his experience and expertise in making houseboats out of cedar wood.

“Many researchers, both foreign and local, visit and ask about the type of wood used and the technique of making it,” he says. “Foreigners often take a small piece of cedar wood along with them. They smell it and pack it in their bags. This is how they value the uniqueness of Kashmir’s houseboats, but here nobody is paying attention towards the dying heritage.”

Cedar is considered to be the best wood for houseboats as it floats in water for years. “The only condition is that the wood should be of best quality without any rawness,” says Kawdari.

“Earlier, we used to visit forests on our own and select the best quality wood for houseboats. But now everything has changed. The wood is hardly available in the market and you cannot reject what you get notwithstanding the quality.”

The interiors of the houseboat, which normally include a drawing room, dining room, pantry, ledge, and corridor, two to four bedrooms, with attached bathrooms, are carved out of walnut wood. The interior furnishing mostly includes carpets and crewel curtains.

“Due to costs and problems with maintenance, some houseboats are replacing cedar wood with tin sheets. This is a new step towards destroying our heritage,” Najar laments before turning to Kawdari as a signal to wrap up the day’s work.