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“Maine kabhi do
board ek jaisa nahi banaya [I have never painted two boards the same
way],” says Sheikh
Jalaluddin Kamaruddin, a painter of sign boards in Ahmedabad. He has
painted all the sign boards in Gheekanta, a busy locality known for scissor
manufacturers. Despite the many shops all selling the same product,
Jalalludin’s signs ensure that every shop has its own visual identity. 



The work of the veteran painter can be seen on &quot;deewar, dukaan aur shutter [walls,
shops, and shop shutters],&quot; and also as backdrops for films. A sign board painter
must know how to draw and paint the script letters of many local languages. At
a jeweller’s shop in Ahmedabad&#39;s Manek Chowk, a sign in four languages – Gujarati,
Hindi, Urdu and English – is still displayed, half a century later. 

Jalaluddin says that painting came naturally to him. At 71, he is one of the oldest sign board painters in Ahmedabad, going by the name &#39;JK Painter&#39;. He says he doesn’t
get as much work as he used to when he started painting signs 50 years ago.



The veteran painter studied till Class 7 and can paint
sign boards in five languages – Gujarati, English, Hindi, Urdu and Arabic.
After leaving school he worked as a rope maker, book binder and garage
mechanic, before learning painting at Raheem’s shop in Dalgharwad market. 



Although in his seventies, Jalaluddin can still
carry his 20 kilo ghoda (ladder) to
paint sign boards on site. but since his bypass operation his doctor has
advised him not to carry heavy weight. So his onsite work has reduced, and he only
paints at his shop. “My knees also hurt if I stand on the ladder for too long,”
he says but quickly adds, “as long as my hands and feet work I will continue
doing this work.”

He recently painted a sign board for a customer, Muntazir
Pisuwala who owns a crockery store in Ahmedabad’s Teen Darwaza
area. He was paid Rs. 3,200 for the sign and Pisuwala says the process is often
a collaborative one: “We chose the colour and everything else together.” 



Jalaluddin set up his shop in front of his
house in the compound of the Pir Qutub Masjid. On a sunny, humid afternoon, he
has come back to his shop after lunch and a quick nap. He is dressed in a white
shirt splashed with paint, and is all set to begin work on a board to display
the room tariffs for a hotel in the old city. He uses a rope and steel chair
with no armrest so he can move his arms freely while seated. 



He sets his hand-made wooden easel to the
right height and places a blank board on it. He must follow the old board made
by him 25 years ago that has worn out, and so the owner commissioned him to
make a new one in exactly the same style. 



“I apply three coats of paint,” he says, on
the wooden board which has already been painted white. According to him this
creates, “bilkul finishing wala colour
aayega [the board will have the perfect colour once finished].” It
takes a day for each coat of paint to dry. 



The styles of different painters of boards is
noticeable. “Their style echoes the ornamental and layered Indian visual
language, found in our sculptures, temples and prints,” says Tarun Deep
Girdher, professor of graphic design at the National Institute of Design
(NID), Ahmedabad.

Jalaluddin glances at the text that he is
copying. “I see how big or small the letters need to be,” he says. “Kuch drawing nahin karta hu, line banaake likhna chalu,
kalam se [I don’t draw anything. I just make rough lines and start
writing with the brush].” The master painter doesn’t write out the letters in
pencils first, but only uses a wooden ruler to ensure straight lines



Removing old squirrel hair brushes from a
paintbox he informs me proudly that, “I made my own paintbox.” Jalaluddin also
works as a carpenter and made this box in 1996. He isn’t happy with the new
plastic brushes in the market and prefers to use his approximately 30 year-old
brushes stored in his handmade paint box. 



Selecting two brushes he cleans them with
turpentine and opens a can of red paint. The bottle is 19 years old. Using his
scooter’s key, he mixes turpentine till it is the right consistency. He then
flattens the brush, plucking out any stray hairs. 



Jalaluddin says he’s grateful that his hands
don’t shake at this age; their steadiness being integral to his work. It takes
him five minutes to write the first letter but it&#39;s not the right height. When
occasional mistakes like this do occur, he erases it while it is wet and redoes
the part. “Humko jarasa bhi bahar niklo nahi
chalega [We don’t like it even if the paint comes out a little bit],”
he says.



He says that customers come back to him for
the neatness and precision in his work. His mastery is in the diamond type,
which involves lettering in 3D which gives it its shiny, diamond like effect.
It is fairly complex, and Jalal explains that he has to get the light, shadows
and midtones exactly right to make it look convincing. 



This signboard will take him another day to
finish, and for two days of work, he will charge Rs. 800-1,000 rupees for the
job. Jalauddin charges anywhere between 120-150/- per sq.ft, a standard rate.
But he doesn’t give a monthly estimate: “Hisaab likhoge
to ghata hi hoga, isliye behisaab rehta hu [If I write my accounts,
I’ll always be in loss so I never calculate].”

Jalaluddin has three children, two boys and a
girl. His elder son took up painting sign boards, but soon left the profession
and now works at a tailoring shop. 



Like Jalaluddin’s children, many young people
are leaving the profession. Today, the art of hand-painting boards is a dying
one. “Computer ne haath kaat diye
painter ke [Computers replaced the painter’s work],” says Aashiq Hussain,
who started painting signboards 35 years ago. Dhirubhai, a
second-generation painter estimates that there are only 50 sign board painters
left in Ahmedabad. 



Digital prints on flex are widely available
and now hardly anyone wants hand-painted boards. So to supplement his income,
painter Aashiq also drives an autorickshaw. 



In what is an unexpected recognition of hand
painted signs, some digital printing shop owners like Gopalbhai Thakkar who can
easily print a sign for themselves, say they prefer to use hand-made signs,
despite the higher cost. “Ye lifetime
chalta hai, woh nahi chalega [Hand-made signs last a lifetime,
digital ones don’t].”

Many painters have also adapted to the new
technology. Arvindbhai
Parmar has been painting sign boards in Adalaj, 10 kms away from
Gandhinagar for 30 years. Seven years ago he bought a plexi cutter machine
which prints stickers. It was a large investment, the machine cost him Rs.
25,000 and the computer another 20,000 rupees. He learnt how to use a computer
from his friends. 



The machine cuts stickers and alphabets on
radium paper, which is then stuck on metal. But Arvindbhai says he prefers
painting by hand as either the computer or the machine keeps breaking down and
we have to keep repairing them. 



Vali Mohammed Mir Qureshi, a
41-year-old sign board painter, also works with digital signs now. He
occasionally gets jobs to paint sign boards. 



Vali, like many other painters, was taught and
mentored by Hussainbhai
Hada. But the 75-year-old says that his own children don’t know the
craft. His son, Haneef and grandsons, Hazir and Amir run a business of
designing and printing stickers, signs and flexes in their shop in Gandhinagar’s Sector
17.



“Aur logo
ko karna chahiye [More people should paint sign boards],” Hussainbhai says.

In Ahmedabad: the painters of signs

احمد آباد: سائن بورڈ کے گمنام پینٹر

பெயர்ப்பலகை ஓவியர்கள்

ਅਹਿਮਦਾਬਾਦ: ਕੰਪਿਊਟਰ ਨੇ ਹਾਥ ਕਾਟ ਦੀਏ ਪੇਂਟਰ ਕੇ

ଅହମ୍ମଦାବାଦର ସାଇନବୋର୍ଡ ଚିତ୍ରକର

अहमदाबादचे जादुई फलक चित्रकार

അഹമ്മദബാദ്: ചിഹ്നങ്ങൾ പെയിന്റ് ചെയ്യുന്നവർ

ಅಹಮದಾಬಾದ್ ನಗರದ‌ ಸೈನ್‌ಬೋರ್ಡ್‌ ಕಲಾವಿದರು

अहमदाबाद: नाम की तख़्तियों के गुमनाम पेंटर

‘कम्प्यूटर ह हाथ कास दीस पेंटर के’

मसीन के जमाना में, नाम लिखे वाला बेनाम भइल!

আহমেদাবাদের সাইনবোর্ড শিল্পীদের অন্তিম প্রজন্ম

আহমেদাবাদৰ ছাইনব’ৰ্ডৰ চিত্ৰকৰ

ક્યાં ખોવાયા અમદાવાદના પાટિયાં રંગનારા?

Ahmedabad

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In Ahmedabad: the painters of signs

Sign board painters are known for providing a personalised touch. But many say that shopkeepers now prefer the cheaper digital alternatives

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