TAXILA: In a quiet corner of the ancient city of Taxila, once celebrated as the ‘City of Artisans’, 71-year-old Waheed Ahmed continues to carve black stone with unwavering focus the last bearer of a family tradition that has endured for centuries.
Sitting amid scattered tools and unfinished pieces, Ahmed represents a vanishing lineage of craftsmen who once defined Taxila’s cultural identity.
The art of black stone carving, rooted in the Gandhara civilisation, has been passed down through generations, but today it survives in only a handful of workshops.
Although Taxila’s sculptural heritage has earned global recognition, artisans say the craft is now in danger of extinction.
‘I learned this craft from my forefathers, but there is no one left in my family to carry it forward,’ Ahmed says, his voice tinged with concern. ‘This artis dying before our eyes.
Historically, Taxila’s artisans were renowned for sculpting intricate figures and motifs, particularly those influenced by Buddhist traditions and Greco-Persian aesthetics.
Using simple tools such as chisels and hammers, they created works that earned global recognition.
However, 60-year-old veteran craftsman Ilyas Khan recalls a starkly different past.
‘There was a time when foreign visitors would come here and buy our sculptures,’ he says.
‘Today, that market has disappeared, and we are forced to make gravestones and household items just to survive.
He said this 2,500-year-old practice was now facing extinction due to severalfactors, particularly a lack of work, extremely low wages and a decline in foreign tourists.
Fifty-three-year-old Rashid Mehmood, another experienced artisan, attributes the decline to persistent economic hardship and shrinking demand.
‘Younger generations are no longer interested in learning this craft,’ he explains. ‘There is no financial security, no support and no future visible for them.’With the number of local and international buyers of Buddhist art declining, we local artisans have now moved on to making mortar and pestles, gravestones, flowerpots and other items,’ he says with a deep sigh.
Forty-two-year-old Amin Khan echoes similar concerns, warning that the lack of institutional support and market access has pushed the craft to the brink.
‘If proper steps are not taken to transfer these skills, Taxila will soon lose this identity forever,’ he says.
Experts also highlight structural challenges. Prof Dr Mohammad Ashraf Khan, a former director of the Taxila Institute of Asian Civilisation, points to restrictive legal frameworks as a major obstacle.
He explains that laws governing antiquities and exports have made it difficult for artisans to openly produce and market replicas, limiting both local sales and international outreach.
Humera Khan, a former curator at Taxila Museum, emphasises the historical depth of the craft. ‘Taxila was known as Tak a il the city of cut stones,’ she notes. ‘This art reflects a rich blend of civilisations that once flourished here,making it an invaluable cultural asset.
Senior archaeologist Dr AG Lone from the federal Department of Archaeology underscores its antiquity.
According to him, stone carving in the region emerged around the 1st century BC, flourished for several centuries and continued in various forms well into later periods. ‘It is not just an art form; it is a historical narrative carved in stone,’ he says.
Despite its profound legacy, multiple pressures including declining tourism, socio-religious sensitivities, economic instability and exploitation by middlemen have accelerated the erosion of this heritage.
Yet, amid these challenges, Waheed Ahmed continues his solitary work. Each measured strike of his hammer is both an act of preservation and quiet resistance against oblivion.
As the echoes of chisels fade across Taxila, experts warn that without immediate and sustained intervention through policy reforms, training initiatives and cultural promotion, this centuries-old craft may soon exist only in museums and history books.