Shabir Ali
In the heart of Kashmir, the old city of Srinagar unfolds like a living museum, its narrow alleys lined with centuries-old buildings adorned with intricate wooden lattices and khatamband ceilings.
The air here carries the faint aroma of spices, mingled with the sound of the Jhelum River flowing gently under historic bridges. This is a city where the past and present coexist, where the architectural beauty whispers tales of bygone eras.
Srinagar’s rich cultural fabric has long been woven by artisans and craftspeople, many of whom migrated from rural areas during the Dogra rule and subsequent regimes. Drawn by the city’s rising prominence as a center of commerce and craftsmanship, these skilled workers brought with them a legacy of traditional arts—pashmina weaving, papier-mâché, wood carving, and soap making—crafts that would eventually find their home in Srinagar’s bustling bazaars.
The city became a hub of artisanal brilliance, with families dedicating generations to preserving and perfecting their trades.
Decades ago, soap-making workshops dotted Srinagar and its outskirts, producing handmade soaps cherished for their purity and effectiveness.
These included names like Gulzar Soap and Kashmir Herbal Soap, which once thrived in the valley. However, as mass-produced soaps flooded the market, these traditional makers began to vanish.
Today, only a handful remain, struggling to keep the craft alive. Among them is Modern Kashmiri Soap, located in the historic Khahqah-e-Moula neighborhood, where Abdul Rashid has been crafting soaps for over 35 years.
“My journey began with watching the elders,” Rashid recalls, standing amidst shelves lined with handmade soaps. “Back then, they made Namda soap, which was popular. But as time passed, its demand decreased. I knew I had to adapt or lose everything. That’s when I decided to diversify.”
Rashid’s shop is one of the last remaining soap-making establishments in Srinagar. His soaps are renowned for their purity, made entirely from plant-based oils and free from synthetic additives.
This commitment to traditional, halal ingredients has earned him a loyal customer base. “People come to me because they trust what we make,” he says.
“Our soaps have no animal fats, no perfumes—just oils and natural remedies. Pilgrims preparing for Hajj and Umrah often prefer them because they’re pure and safe to use.”
The shift from Namda soap to more versatile products wasn’t easy, but it was necessary for survival. Rashid introduced a variety of soaps addressing common issues like dandruff, itching, and hair fall.
“Every bar of soap we make has a purpose,” he explains. “If someone comes to me with a skin problem, I want to give them a solution that works. That’s what keeps people coming back.”
Rashid remembers a time when Srinagar was alive with soap makers. “There used to be so many of us—Gulzar Soap, Kashmir Herbal Soap, and others. They were all part of this tradition. But one by one, they closed their shops. It’s heartbreaking to see a craft disappear,” he laments.
“We’ve managed to survive, but it hasn’t been easy. Every day is a struggle against mass production and cheaper, low-quality alternatives.”
Despite the challenges, Rashid remains steadfast in his mission to preserve the art of soap-making. “This is more than a business for me,” he says with quiet determination. “It’s a legacy. It’s about keeping alive the skills passed down through generations. I want people to remember what real craftsmanship looks like.”
The shelves in his shop showcase a range of soaps, each crafted with care and precision. “Our dandruff soap is especially popular,” Rashid says with a hint of pride. “It works because it’s made with natural oils and nothing else. People tell me it’s the only thing that’s helped them.”
For Rashid, the survival of his craft is deeply personal. “I feel a responsibility to keep this tradition alive,” he says. “When I see customers coming back, thanking me for the difference our soaps make, it reminds me why I started this in the first place.”
Modern Kashmiri Soap is not just a shop; it’s a testament to resilience and dedication. As the old city of Srinagar continues to evolve, Abdul Rashid’s workshop stands as a quiet yet powerful symbol of Kashmir’s artisanal heritage.
In a world increasingly dominated by mass production, it offers a glimpse into a time when craftsmanship was celebrated and every product carried a story.