In the dimly-lit hall of their four-story house amid the congested lanes of downtown Srinagar, Ghulam Mohiuddin Sheikh carefully works a sheet of sandpaper over the wooden frame of a harmonium. His 29-year-old son, Shahid, accompanies him, repairing the insides of another piece. Scattered around them is the paraphernalia of their craft: tools of different sizes dangling from the walls; bits of wood, bellows, reeds, and polish cloth. The air smells of lacquer and timber.
“For the past 40 years, I have been a part of this journey,” says 58-year-old Sheikh. “Everyone has their own calling. I used to sing, but life took a turn when I went to Punjab, where I met my master who taught me this craft.” The craft is repairing and making harmoniums. Against the wall, a row of them stand—some half-built, others ready to be shipped off to Canada, Mexico, even Pakistan.
Assembling each delicate part of the harmonium requires steady hands, sharp focus, and an eye for detail. Sheikh took almost 26 years to learn it. “The craft needs precision and patience,” he says. Each harmonium takes nearly a month and a half to make. Every part, except the ones made of copper, is carved from wood. “The rest comes from outside—like the sur, which we source separately,” he adds.
Over the last few years, Shahid too has become fully immersed in the making and repairing of harmoniums. “It’s about both passion and hard work,” he says. “I got into singing, then gradually, my interest in making harmoniums took over.” Shahid believes that repairing harmoniums is itself an art. “Sometimes we restore old harmoniums so well that customers don’t recognise them. We customise them too—designs, tones, finishes—whatever the customer needs.”
Both father and son produce around 20-30 harmoniums during the off-season. Come spring and summer—especially during the wedding season from April to October—the instruments fly off the shelves. In winter, they get more orders because Sufiyana music is commonly played in Kashmir at this time.
Though Shahid’s instruments are old, his sensibility isn’t. “Social media has been our saviour,” he smiles. “Through Instagram and word of mouth, people know us, even outside Kashmir.” He often posts stories of their work on social media, which brings visibility and business. “Whether I earn more or less doesn’t matter. What matters is that I enjoy what I do. When the Pandit community brings their instruments to us for repair and then praises our work, that’s my reward.” With music finding a stronger foothold across Kashmir again, the harmonium whisperers see signs of hope. “The younger generation is getting involved,” says Sheikh. “Music eases tension. I feel like we’re not just making instruments we’re preserving something sacred.”