The first rays of the morning sun spill over the endless rows of trucks at Sanjay Gandhi Transport Nagar, Delhi’s sprawling trucking hub. Diesel engines rumble awake, mechanics clang metal tools against steel, and drivers sip steaming cups of chai before setting off on journeys that will take them across the length and breadth of India. But before many of these trucks hit the highways, they make one final stop at a small paint shop tucked inside the depot.
Here, blank metal panels slowly transform into vibrant canvases. Layers of bright enamel paint erase faded colours. Steady brushstrokes bring to life handwritten couplets in Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi, portraits of saints and singers, tigers, peacocks and horses, and playful slogans that have become synonymous with Indian highways. Amid the noise and grime of one of the country’s busiest transport hubs, three brothers are keeping alive a tradition that has travelled India’s roads for generations.
Raju Kumar, 44, Harish Kumar, 43, and Kamal Kumar, 57, belong to a family of truck painters whose story stretches back three generations. Their grandfather and father worked on these very lanes, transforming ordinary trucks into rolling expressions of faith, longing, humour and regional pride. Today, the brothers continue that legacy, blending painstaking hand-painted craftsmanship with changing tastes and modern techniques.
“Truck painting is our livelihood,” says Raju, carefully mixing shades of red and yellow before dipping his brush into the paint. “Drivers spend weeks away from their families, so they want their trucks to carry messages, images and blessings for safety. For them, it is their identity.”
Truck painting in India dates back to the early decades of the 20th century, when expanding highways and commercial transport reshaped the movement of goods. As truckers spent weeks—and often months—away from home, their vehicles became deeply personal spaces. Religious symbols were painted for divine protection, film stars and folk heroes watched over the roads, colourful floral borders reflected regional aesthetics, while handwritten poetry and witty one-liners offered companionship through lonely highways. Over time, every state developed its own visual vocabulary, turning India’s highways into moving galleries of folk art.
Punjabi trucks often carry portraits of Sidhu Moose Wala or Babu Maan, while those from Uttar Pradesh feature familiar slogans such as ‘Buri nazar wale tera muh kaala’ alongside local deities and saints. “It’s more than decoration,” Raju says. “It’s tradition.”
Known simply as ‘Deepu’ among transporters, Sanjay Gandhi Transport Nagar is Asia’s largest trucking hub, spread across more than 75 acres. Every day, thousands of trucks from Punjab, Haryana, Rajasthan, Jammu and Kashmir, and Uttar Pradesh roll in for servicing, repairs—and often, a fresh coat of personality. Though computer-generated graphics and vinyl decals have become commonplace, many truck owners still seek hand-painted artwork for the individuality it offers. “Our job is to paint as per the customer’s demand,” says Harish. “These days, slogans like ‘Beti Padhao, Beti Bachao’ and ‘Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan’ are popular. About 20 or 25 years ago, people wanted ‘Hum Do, Humare Do’. Trends change with society and government, but the love for hand-painted trucks never fades.”
Their workshop rarely falls silent. Drivers leaf through design books, point to old photographs, or simply describe what they want while the brothers sketch directly onto metal with practiced ease. “Many customers ask for poetry,” says Harish, dipping his brush into bright yellow enamel. “Some want love poems, others prefer verses about family and companionship. A common design is a girl sitting on the bank of a river with the words ‘Ghar Kab Aoge’. Many also request paintings of the Taj Mahal; it’s very popular.”
Like the trucks themselves, the art has evolved with time. What once relied on a limited palette has grown richer and more elaborate, often combining intricate brushwork with vinyl backdrops and digital elements. Yet the heart of the craft, the brothers insist, still lies in the human hand. “Truck art takes years of practice. That’s why customers prefer us,” says Harish. “The colours we use change with time. Earlier, golden brown was in demand; now white and yellow are more popular. We even mix digital techniques and vinyl backdrops. But our art is always in the human touch.”
For truckers, the appeal lies in something no vinyl print can replicate: personality. Every commission begins with a conversation—about faith, family, favourite singers, hometowns and memories that deserve a place on the road. Sandeep, a truck driver from Punjab, recently entrusted the Kumar brothers with decorating his vehicle. As fresh coats of emerald green, crimson and gold dried under the Delhi sun, he watched the artists add poetry and intricate borders by hand. “I could have used stickers or prints, but nothing beats truck art,” he says. “The colours, the poetry, the way every detail is done by hand—it’s like carrying a piece of my home and my beliefs wherever I go.”
The brothers, too, see themselves as custodians of a legacy rather than merely painters. “Our grandfather started this, then our father, and now we do this work” says Raju. “We are proud to carry on this art. As long as trucks run on Indian roads, this art will live with them.”
As children, the brothers would accompany their father to transport hubs, watching him sketch freehand patterns before carefully filling them with colour. What began as helping him clean brushes and mix paint slowly became a lifelong apprenticeship. Today, they represent the third generation of the family to wield the brush. “Earlier, only one or two colours were used, but now customers want multiple colours and more detailed work,” Kamal reflects.
Inside the workshop, the rhythm is almost choreographed. One brother outlines the design in chalk, another fills broad swathes of colour, while the third adds delicate flourishes, lettering and finishing touches. Working in perfect sync, they can transform an entire truck in just three to four hours. “There are certain things people ask us to include, like the Indian flag or quotes on social issues, so that the message reaches every corner of the country,” Kamal adds. “It is also a form of communication.”
Yet, despite the years of experience and painstaking labour behind every truck, the financial rewards remain modest. “Each of us usually earns around Rs 700 to Rs 800 a day. Sometimes customers give a little extra out of love,” Kamal says. The reputation they have built over decades has taken them well beyond Delhi. “We have customers from across India, and sometimes we travel to other states such as Punjab and Haryana to decorate trucks,” Kamal shares. For him, every brushstroke carries a deeply personal memory. “Whenever we pick up the brush, it feels like our father is still with us, guiding our hands. This is not just work for us; it is his memory that we carry forward every day.”
Even as technology reshapes traditional trades, the brothers have learned to adapt without surrendering the essence of their craft. Vinyl backdrops and digital elements may find their way into some designs, but every truck still begins with a conversation rather than a computer template. “Every truck we paint is unique,” says Harish. “We talk to the customer, understand what they want, and create something they can call their own. That’s why hand painting will never go out of style.” That connection keeps customers returning year after year. One of their regulars, Dinesh Singh, has been driving trucks since 2001. To him, the vehicle is far more than a machine. “The truck has become my home,” Singh says. “We spend most of our time in it. We eat here, sleep here, and even relax here.” Whenever he wants to repaint his truck, he returns to the Kumar brothers. Alongside social messages, he asks them to paint portraits of his favourite singers and actors, turning the vehicle into a moving reflection of his own identity.
That craftsmanship comes at a price—but one many truck owners are happy to pay. “If someone else charges two thousand for a job, we can charge six thousand, and people still come to us because they trust our work,” Harish remarks.
As another freshly painted truck rumbles out of Sanjay Gandhi Transport Nagar, its rear panel gleaming with bold colours, poetry and blessings, it carries much more than cargo. It carries stories of homes left behind, journeys yet to be made, and an art form that refuses to fade. In an age of machine-made decals and mass-produced graphics, the Kumar brothers continue to prove that the most enduring designs are still those painted by hand—one brushstroke, one conversation and one highway at a time.