Mohd Shehwaaz Khan

Shivangi Pandey

Aishwarya Diwakar

Photographer

Sarbajaya Bhattacharya

Editor

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Tiny
particles rise in the air as Mohammad Aslam pours hot molten brass into a sancha (mould container). This will shape the brass into a solid chandan piyali (a small bowl used for
prayers). 

A metal
craftsman specialising in brass work, Aslam’s hands move firmly and cautiously.
He measures the pressure on the container as he pours the brass, ensuring the
sand inside – which gives the product its shape – does not spill. 

“You should
keep your hands firm or the structure inside the sancha will be disturbed. The adat
[the moulded product] will be spoiled,” says 55-year-old Aslam. However,
the spillage of the sand does not worry him as much as the particles in the
air. “Do you see them? This is brass and it’s going to waste. We will have to
bear its cost,” he rues. For every 100 kilograms of brass that they mould,
around 3 kilos is lost in the air. That’s roughly 50 rupees disappearing into
thin air. 

Aslam is
among the handful of craftsmen working in one of the many bhattis (furnaces) located in
Moradabad’s
Peerzada area, famous for brass work. The craft is locally known as dhalayi ka kaam, or casting, in which
craftsmen melt pieces of brass silli (ingot)
and mould them into different shapes.

Their work material – coal, sand, wooden planks,
iron rods, pliers and tongs of varying sizes – lie scattered around them in the
workspace where Aslam and his assistant Raees Jaan spend 12 hours a day.  Aslam pays Rs. 1,500 as rent every month for
the crowded five square feet space.

In this city in Uttar Pradesh,
popularly known as pital nagari (brass
city), the workforce largely comes from the Muslim community. Around 90 per
cent, Aslam estimates, and most of them live in or around the Peerzada area.
Moradabad’s Muslim population constitutes 47.12 percent of the city&#39;s total population (Census 2011).

Aslam and
Jaan have been working together for the last five years. They start working
early in the morning, arriving at the bhatti
by 5:30 a.m.  Going home for lunch in
the afternoon. Both of them live close to the bhatti. In the evening, when it is time for tea, a family member
brings it to the workshop. 

“We work
hard but we never skip a meal. This is what we work for, after all,” Aslam
says.

Jaan is
Aslam’s assistant and is paid a daily wage of Rs. 400. Together, they melt the
brass, cool the metal and collect the sand scattered around them for reusing.

Jaan mostly
handles the kiln, which requires standing up to load the coal. “One person
cannot do this work. You need at least two people. So, if Aslam bhai is on leave, I lose my work too,”
says 60-year-old Jaan. “Raees bhai is
going to his sasural [in-laws’]
tomorrow, and I will lose Rs 500,” Aslam chimes in, smiling. 

“It’s the coal that breaks the backbone of a dhalaiya [brass caster],” Aslam tells
us, “if we can obtain coal at half the price, it will give us a lot of relief.”
Aslam takes theka (contract) of
casting brass on a daily basis.

They obtain
brass ingots from local firms at Rs. 500 a kilo and return them after the
casting process. A standard brass slab typically weighs between seven to eight
kg. 

“We cast at
least 42 kg of brass in a day, depending on the availability of work. For each
kilogram that we cast, we earn Rs. 40, bearing the cost of coal and other
expenses,” Aslam says. 

A kilo of
coal costs Rs. 55 and Aslam notes that approximately 300 grams of coal is
consumed to melt one kilogram of brass. “If you remove all the expenses, our
labour earns us around six to seven rupees a kilo for casting the metal,” he
adds.

Raees Jaan
started working at the age of 10 and took a year to learn the craft. “It may
look like easy work, but it’s not,” he says, “the hardest part is to understand
how brass behaves once it is melted.”

While
casting brass, Jaan explains, you have to keep your hands firm and posture
composed. “The trick lies in filling the container. A nausikhiya [beginner] wouldn&#39;t know how much beating the container
needs once it is filled with molten brass. If it’s not done properly, the adat [final moulded piece] will break.
Similarly, it will break if we lift the container with a jolt,” Jaan says, “the
hands of an expert move naturally in such situations.”

Jaan comes from a long line of brass casters.
“It is my ancestral work,” he says, “we have been doing it for almost 200
years.” But Jaan often thinks about his decision to pursue the trade. “My
father owned his own casting business, but I am only a daily wage labourer,” he
laments.

Aslam started casting brass 40 years
ago. Initially, the family’s livelihood was sustained by his father’s fruit and
vegetable cart. He entered this line of work to help out his family. “Every day
is the same here; nothing changes,” the brass caster says. “The 500 rupees that
we earn today is the same as the 250 rupees we earned 10 years ago,” he adds,
highlighting the rise in prices.

Aslam has two daughters and a son. His daughters
are married. “There is not enough space in the house to marry my son and get another
member into the family,” he says.

Friday is
the weekly off for the craftsmen working in Peerzada. All the bhattis shut shop on jummabar and the area, usually filled
with noise of hammer and tongs, falls silent. 

On his day
off, Mohammad Naeem climbs to the roof of his house to fly kites with his
grandchildren. “It helps me release stress,” he explains. 

He spends the rest of the week at a workshop in
a narrow lane, about a five-minute walk from Aslam and Jaan’s bhatti. He has been practising this
craft for 36 years. “I will never understand why people love these brass
products. I have never made one for myself,” he says. Unlike Aslam and Jaan, he
has to travel 20 kms to get to work, and sets off when it is still dark. He
spends around Rs. 80 a day on transport.

The
55-year-old mostly handles the kiln, while his three colleagues perform the
task of moulding and blending. 

They are
sculpting pooja ka samaan, which
includes diyas (lamps), Om-shaped
symbols and the base for lamps. Most of them are used in temples, Naeem says.

“It’s safe
to say that we have made brass products for every temple in the country,” he
quips, counting the names of places on his fingers, “Kerala, Banaras, Gujarat,
and more.”

The
temperature has almost touched 42 degrees Celsius, but Naeem insists on making
some tea for everyone, despite the heat. “I make the best tea,” he says with a
twinkle in his eyes. “Have you ever had bhatti
wali chai?” he asks the PARI reporters. What makes his tea special, he
says, is that the milk and tea boil better in the heat of the bhatti. 

Naeem
started working here following in the footsteps of his sibling and cousin, but
his family’s traditional occupation was selling clothes. “Woh nikal gaye, par main yahin reh gaya [they left this work, but I
stayed behind],” he says.   

Naeem also thinks the pay, Rs. 450–500 a day, is
not enough and often considers quitting. “If I had the money, I would go back
to selling clothes. I loved that job. All you have to do is sit in a cosy chair
all day and sell the clothes,” he says.

The famous
brass industry is a part of the union and Uttar Pradesh government’s flagship ‘<a href="https://odopup.in/en/article/Moradabad">One District One Product</a>&#39; scheme and Moradabad’s metal craft received the Geographical Indications (GI)
tag in 2014. But the condition of the casters has not improved.Casting is
considered to be the most laborious work in the production of brassware.
Workers spend long hours squatting on the floor, constantly moving their hands
to lift heavy containers, level sand, and fill coal into the furnace, all the
while being careful of the flames. The hard
work with little financial returns has made the younger generation turn away
from the craft of casting.

Younger men
are largely employed in meena ka kaam
or colouring of metal surfaces. They say this is more respectful work, one
where you don’t get your clothes dirty. Other avenues of employment include
packing, sewing and boxing products.

Mohammad
Subhan, a 24-year-old brass caster, works two jobs to support his family.
During the day, he casts brass, earning Rs. 300. When the wedding season
begins, he works as an electrician, earning around Rs. 200 for each wedding he
helps light up.  “Quitting this work
[casting] is not an option when the money is tight,” he says. 

The son of a
rickshaw driver, he started working at the age of 12. “I am the second eldest
of eight children and have to look after my family,” Subhan says. “During the
covid-19 lockdown, I lost all my savings and now it seems even more difficult
to quit.”

Subhan knows
that he is not alone. “There are many young men like me here who are doing two
jobs. Agar pareshaani aati hai, to kuch
to karna padega [If there are problems, you have to do something],” he
says. This story is supported by a fellowship from Mrinalini Mukherjee Foundation (MMF).

In Moradabad, it’s down to brass tacks

مراد آباد میں ماند پڑتی پیتل کی صنعت

மொராதாபாத்தில் தரை தட்டும் பித்தளை

ਮੋਰਾਦਾਬਾਦ: ਪਿੱਤਲ ਢਲ਼ਾਈ ਦਾ ਕੰਮ ਬਣਿਆ ਆਈ-ਚਲਾਈ

ମୋରାଦାବାଦରେ ପିତ୍ତଳ କାରୀଗରଙ୍କ ଦୁର୍ଦ୍ଦଶା

മൊറാദാബാദിലെ പരമ്പരാഗത പിച്ചള മൂശാരിമാര്‍

ಮೊರಾದಾಬಾದ್‌, ಕುಲುಮೆಯಲ್ಲಿನ ಹಿತ್ತಾಳೆಯಂತಾದ ಕೆಲಸಗಾರರ ಬದುಕು

મુરાદાબાદના પિત્તળનાં વાસણો બનાવનારાઓ

मुरादाबाद : फीका परत पीतल के चमक

जीआई टैग के बादो ना बदलल पीतल नगरी के भाग

পড়ন্ত চুল্লির তেজ, ফিকে মোরাদাবাদী পিতলের জেল্লা

দেহে-কেহে খাটনি, মুৰাদাবাদৰ পিতলৰ কাৰিকৰী

मुरादाबाद में मद्धम पड़ती पीतल की ठक-ठक

Moradabad

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In Moradabad, it’s down to brass tacks

The men who cast brass in this industrial city in Uttar Pradesh spend almost 12 hours a day working in bhattis under hazardous conditions. The craft received a Geographical Indications (GI) tag in 2014, but the craftsmen of ‘pital nagari’ say their situation has not improved

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