This Father-Daughter Duo Is Helping Women Earn From Home by Reviving Kashmir’s Forgotten Grass Mats

In an age of polished tiles, designer carpets and imported décor, many traditional crafts are quietly disappearing from everyday life. Across Kashmir, homes that once relied on handmade floor coverings have increasingly shifted to modern alternatives.

The result is not just a change in interior design, but the gradual loss of skills and traditions that once shaped life in the Valley.

For generations, Waguv — locally known as Wague or Wuguv — was a familiar presence in Kashmiri homes. Handwoven from dried rice straw and wetland reeds, these mats kept homes warm in winter and cool during summer.

Until the early 2000s, it was difficult to find a household without one.

But changing lifestyles and the arrival of cheaper, factory-made alternatives pushed the craft to the margins. As demand fell, artisans gave up their looms and looked elsewhere for work. Slowly, a centuries-old tradition began slipping away.

Between changing lifestyles and disappearing skills

Kashmir has long been known for its craftsmanship — from pashmina shawls to walnut wood carving and papier-mâché work. While some of these crafts continue to thrive, many lesser-known traditions have struggled to survive.

Wuguv weaving was one of them.

As younger generations moved towards education, urban jobs and digital careers, fewer people chose to learn the craft. Without artisans to carry the knowledge forward, the future of Wuguv began to look uncertain.

A father and daughter determined to keep a tradition alive

In Srinagar, however, one family decided not to let the craft disappear.

Gulam Hassan and his daughter Tanzila have spent the last few years trying to revive Wuguv weaving — not only as a cultural tradition but also as a source of livelihood for local families.

What began as a small effort inside their own home has slowly grown into a community initiative.

Tanzila, a 24-year-old college student from Dalgate, learned the craft by watching her father work.

By the early 2000s, very few artisans were still practising Wuguv weaving as demand continued to decline. Concerned that the craft could vanish altogether, Gulam Hassan began reviving it after 2020.

As interest slowly returned, neighbours and local women started approaching the family to learn the skill.

Tanzila soon joined her father’s efforts, helping expand production, connect with customers and attract younger artisans to the craft.

“I used to sit with my father and watch him work. Slowly, I learned the art,” she told The Better India.

“What began as a way to support my family became both my hobby and a source of income for my education.”

Today, their home doubles up as a training centre where artisans gather to learn and work together.

Their efforts are helping revive not just a craft, but an entire ecosystem of knowledge that once formed an important part of Kashmir’s cultural life.

How Wuguv is made

The process begins with locally available grasses and reeds collected from Kashmir’s wetlands.

The materials are dried, sorted and prepared before being woven entirely by hand.

A standard mat usually takes around four days to complete and is often made by two artisans working together.

While the basics can be learned relatively quickly, artisans say creating intricate designs requires patience and years of practice.

Women at the heart of the revival

The revival of Wuguv is closely linked to the participation of women.

Traditionally, grass mat weaving was practised by women in rural Kashmir, and its return is once again creating opportunities for them to earn from home.

According to the family, more than 20 women have been trained in Wuguv weaving over the last few years.

Many now contribute to household incomes while working from their homes, helping preserve a craft that was once on the verge of disappearing.

Among them is 43-year-old Shameema.

She says the renewed demand for Wuguv has transformed her life.

“In the last few years, demand from within the Valley and from other parts of India has increased. It has created opportunities for women like me,” she told The Better India.

A mother of three, Shameema now trains around a dozen women in her locality after finishing her household responsibilities each morning.

Working for about five hours a day from home, she earns between Rs 10,000 and Rs 12,000 every month.

“This work makes me proud. I don’t have to leave my home, and I can still earn and support my family,” she says.

For many women, Wuguv weaving offers more than income. It provides flexibility, financial independence and a chance to preserve a skill passed down through generations.

Finding a place in modern homes

As demand has grown, so have earnings.

Depending on the size and complexity of the product, artisans earn anywhere between Rs 300 for smaller items such as doormats and Rs 2,000 to Rs 3,000 for larger, intricately woven carpets.

For families involved full-time, the craft has become a reliable source of income, especially when orders arrive from outside Kashmir.

Demand often increases during tourist seasons and festive periods, providing an additional boost to earnings.

Their products are no longer confined to local markets.

Wuguv products are now being shipped to cities such as Delhi, Mumbai and Bengaluru through exhibitions, handicraft fairs and orders placed through social media.

Hotels, cafés and boutique homestays have emerged as some of the biggest buyers, drawn to the products’ natural textures and eco-friendly appeal.

What was once a declining craft is gradually finding new life as a small but growing rural enterprise.

While Waguw was once valued primarily as a household necessity, its role has evolved with time.

Today, these mats are increasingly being used as decorative pieces in cafés, restaurants and hotels, where their rustic charm appeals to customers looking for handmade and sustainable alternatives.

Nazir Ahmad, a resident of Budgam, switched to Wuguv mats after years of using synthetic alternatives.

“I had been using modern mats for years, but Wuguv feels more comfortable and natural,” he says.

“It gives a sense of warmth and reminds us of our traditions.”

Artisans have also adapted to changing tastes.

Beyond traditional floor mats, they now make doormats, table covers, wall hangings and decorative pieces.

“Earlier, we only made grass carpets. Now customers ask for new designs and products. The younger generation wants creativity in everything,” Tanzila explains.

That willingness to innovate has helped keep the craft relevant for modern consumers without losing its traditional essence.

Challenges remain

Despite its revival, Wuguv weaving continues to face challenges.

One of the biggest is the declining availability of raw materials.

Wetlands around Srinagar, once rich in reeds and grasses used for weaving, are shrinking because of pollution and encroachment.

“Sometimes, when we receive bulk orders, we have to source grass from rural areas, which increases our costs,” Tanzila says.

The issue goes beyond rising expenses.

Artisans believe the future of Wuguv is closely tied to the future of Kashmir’s wetlands.

Without access to these natural resources, sustaining the craft in the long term may become increasingly difficult.

Keeping Kashmir’s identity alive

For Gulam Hassan, reviving Waguw is deeply personal.

Having learned the craft as a child, he witnessed its decline first-hand.

Today, he is beginning to see signs of hope.

With growing awareness, participation in exhibitions and greater exposure through handicraft events, interest in Wuguv is slowly returning.

“Earlier, this work was limited to our home. Now almost every household around us is involved,” he says.

“We work like a family to keep this art alive.”

Tanzila has played an important role in that journey — bringing fresh ideas, connecting with new markets and encouraging younger artisans to learn the skill.

Together, father and daughter have transformed a fading tradition into a community effort.

Their story is a reminder that preserving heritage does not always mean keeping things frozen in time.

Sometimes, it means finding new ways for old traditions to survive.

While dedicated government training programmes for Wuguv artisans are currently not being conducted, artisans say they receive support through exhibitions and handicraft events where they can showcase and sell their products.

These opportunities have helped them reach new customers, secure orders and introduce the craft to audiences beyond Kashmir.

As modern lifestyles continue to replace traditional practices, their work stands as a reminder that heritage can still thrive when communities choose to invest in it.

Disclaimer : This story is auto aggregated by a computer programme and has not been created or edited by DOWNTHENEWS. Publisher: thebetterindia.com