In Jaunsar: temples and their craftsmen

In his two decades of woodcrafting, Balbir Vishwakarma has built seven temples. There is little about building in the mountainous region of Uttarakhand that he doesn't know.

“Ye hamara khandani kaam hai, baap dada ke time se [This is our family occupation, from the time of my forefathers],” says Balbir as he places his hammer and chisel down on the warm deodar wood, and pauses to speak to PARI.

We are in the Jaunsar region. The warm morning sun has climbed over the ranges and is lighting up the spires of the temple dedicated to Mahasu Devta, still under construction when PARI visited at the end of 2025.

“Mandir banane ki shurwat hmesha neeche se hoti. Phele base banega phir uppar ka. Sabse jaroori hai pillar jispe dhancha khada hoga [The temple is always built bottom-up first, so the base is made first then the top. The most critical is the pillar on which the frame will rest],” Balbir tells us looking around at the structure.

The master craftsman recalls that the longest time spent on a single temple was nine years for the one in Thaina village – there were a number of decorative elements. Smaller temples can be finished in one-two years.

Originally from Vahi village, higher up in the mountains, Balbir arrived in Koti in July 2025 at the invitation of elders in the village. Much sought after, Balbir says that carving fine faces and figures onto deodar wood is a family tradition: “One child from our family has to do this [nakkashi] work. Even if he gets a job outside, he has to return.”

The work demands skill beyond carving. “Anyone who does this work has to be educated,” he adds. “He needs to know math for mapping, measuring, cutting and other things.”

Balbir belongs to one of six families back home in Vahi who continue the tradition of nakkashi (woodcraft and carving). Three artisans have accompanied him here. They all belong to the Jaunsari community listed as scheduled tribe in Uttarakhand.

Today the team of nakkashi are focused on carving leaves and patterns on pillars. These are based on designs approved by people of the village; temples in the region are viewed as shared structures. “They belong to the whole village,” says Sunil Singh Tomar. “In some cases, a cluster of villages gets together to construct a bigger temple,” he adds. Tomar is a lab assistant in the state school in Besogilani, and a resident of Koti.

Despite its avowed inclusivity, temple spaces are demarcated sharply along gender and caste lines – women do not enter these temples. PARI approached many women in the village seeking to hear their views, but nobody wanted to comment – the topic was off bounds – women said they were fearful of inviting the wrath of gods. “Due to certain reasons women cannot enter the temple,” was all that Asha Devi, a 42-year-old small eatery owner in Utel said to us. Members of lower caste communities said they were fearful of entering fearing a bad omen.

In recent times, the region’s economic growth has seen a mushrooming of temples and along with that the art of nakkashi has seen revival too.

Temples in the region are paid for by local donations. A single structure can cost Rs. 1 to 1.5 crore – including wood, stone slate, copper and labour. Artisans can number from five to 10 depending on the size of the temple. They can expect to earn from Rs. 800 -1500 per day, with senior artists taking home Rs. 1,200-1,500.

The most expensive part is the local deodar wood, used for centuries to build temples and other structures here. Deodar (Cedrus deodara), also known as Himalayan cedar, is endemic to the region. Its distinctive smell and anti-termite properties makes it both sacred and precious. A seven-feet- long log is priced at Rs. 3,500. “In earlier times we could just go and get the tree but now since restrictions we have to get permission from the forest or buy wood from the market.” says Balbir.

Temple construction usually took generations to finish, but with the introduction of modern machines and better tools, they are now built in no time. A team of nakkashi work under a lead artist who makes the ground map, plans the processes and allocates tasks.

But long before the structure is put in place, the carving by artists like Balbir begins. Every pillar and door is carved by hand – besides leaves and flowers, detailed scenes with figures from the Mahabharata are carved on the walls.

The foundation or basat is first laid by a male member of the Vishwakarma family. Then the structure is built bottom up placing pillars and panels followed by walls. The last stage is roofing with stone slates. The structure is topped with copper domes. Outer and inner structures are adorned with carvings done using a wooden hammer and differently sized chisels. Hammer weights and sizes vary according to tasks, and are often handed down in families.

A nakkashi artist is treated with reverence and is expected to adhere to strict socio-cultural norms: While working on a temple they eat only once a day; the chief artist doesn’t cut his hair or shave his beard till the work is finished, and they must eat food only prepared by a male cook, and avoid social gatherings.

“A lot of my relatives are craftsmen but they work in homes or make furniture,” says Dinesh Vishwakarma. It pays better. “I don’t like that, I like nakkashi,” adds the 25-year-old, a third-generation craftsman. His father doesn’t do this work anymore, but Dinesh says he was determined to bring back his grandfather’s legacy.

“I never saw my grandfather, but I saw his work in temples. It made me think, how did he do that? How did he make such beautiful and intricate designs?” and so Dinesh sees nakkashi as a way to connect to his grandfather.

But while the work is respected and means a lot to Dinesh, there are sacrifices: “We stay away from home for months. To be a nakkashi artist you have to leave everything behind family, children, everything,’’ adds Dinesh.

This story is supported by a fellowship from Mrinalini Mukherjee Foundation (MMF).