VIJAYAPURA : Bent over a slab of dark granite, carefully chiselling the name of the deceased with practiced precision, 54-year-old Abdul Aziz Kadkol represents a fading tradition of hand-crafted stone carving that once flourished in the region. For decades, he has dedicated his life to an occupation inherited from his forefathers, a craft now struggling to survive in the age of machines.
A resident of Vijayapura, Aziz studied only up to Class 7 before joining the family trade at a young age. His father wanted more helping hands to continue the business. “Stone carving was our livelihood and identity. Education had to take a back seat,” he recalled.
The family’s association with the craft dates back over seven decades. Aziz’s grandfather had migrated from Jamkhandi taluk in Bagalkot district — then part of the undivided Vijayapura district to Vijayapura (then Bijapur) in search of better economic opportunities. The move proved fruitful in those days, when demand for hand-crafted stone objects was high and skilled artisans were respected for their craftsmanship.
Aziz remembers his childhood as a time when the family workshop was always bustling with activity. Around a dozen workers would be busy shaping stones into everyday household objects and memorial structures. Among the items they produced were stone mortars, pestles, samadhi stones placed on graves, and intricately carved gravestones.
“Machines were rare and mostly confined to cities then. Everything was done by hand, so skilled workers were in great demand,” he said. The craft not only sustained his family but also provided employment to relatives and neighbours. Stone mortars and pestles were once essential kitchen tools in Indian households, used for grinding grains, spices and medicinal ingredients. Samadhi stones and gravestones, too, were widely commissioned, ensuring steady work for artisans.
Decline in demand
Today, however, Abdul Aziz and his younger brother Abdul Hameed Kadkol view the future of their occupation with concern. The rise of mechanised production, availability of factory-made stone items and changing lifestyles have drastically reduced demand for handmade products.
“Earlier, we would receive several orders every month. Now, even getting a few is difficult,” Abdul Hameed said. He noted that crafting a granite samadhi by hand takes at least three days, whereas they can prepare three to four simple gravestones in a single day--if orders are there.
The brothers once employed about a dozen workers, but dwindling income has forced them to let go of all employees. According to Aziz, Vijayapura once had seven to eight families--both Hindu and Muslim engaged in the trade. Over the years, most have abandoned the occupation, leaving only three or four families still practicing the craft. Of Aziz’s three sons, only one has shown interest in continuing the ancestral occupation. One son works as a carpenter while the youngest is still studying.
Ayaz Kadkol, 22, chose to join his father out of fascination with stone work since childhood. Having discontinued his education after Class 10, he now assists in carving and polishing. “I grew up watching my father work and wanted to learn the skill. But honestly, there isn’t enough income for all of us to depend on it,” he admitted.
Orders for gravestones, once the main source of revenue, have reduced sharply. Abdul Hameed said they previously received four to five orders a month, which has now fallen to less than half. “The only reason we still get some orders is because machine-made gravestones are expensive. Middle- and lower-middle-class families prefer our handmade work as it is affordable,” he explained. Today, they rely on producing stone mortars and pestles to sustain their livelihood. Even these items are increasingly made using machines, further shrinking their market.
“These objects were once part of every household. Now they survive mostly as symbols of tradition,” Aziz said. Many Hindu families buy them for ceremonial purposes, keep them as heirlooms, or gift them to daughters during weddings, customs that have helped keep the craft alive, albeit barely.
He believes that cultural traditions, rather than practical necessity, are now the primary reason for whatever demand remains.
An uncertain future
The family sees little hope for revival unless there is renewed appreciation for handmade craftsmanship.
With younger generations favouring modern tools, manual stone carving risks disappearing altogether. “Machines are faster and cheaper. People want convenience. Crafts like ours are slowly being forgotten,” Aziz said, his voice reflecting both resignation and pride.