The Secret Alleys of Bowbazar: Inside Kolkata’s Jewellery Hub of Timeless Gold Craft

Just a few metres away from the bustle of Sealdah market, the air starts to shimmer — not from the heat, but from history of gold. You’ll see them, neat rows of gold shops lining the streets, glittering under dim signboards and old facades. But this is no ordinary shopping lane. You’ve just stepped into Bowbazar — Kolkata’s beating heart of gold artistry. 

The name Bowbazar is whispered with reverence among the locals. Some say it’s named after a Bohu, a daughter-in-law who once received this land as a wedding gift. Others believe it comes from the Bengali word Bohu, meaning “many”, because of the abundance of shops in this vibrant pocket. Whatever the origin, the place holds stories crafted as finely as the jewellery it produces. Bowbazar is not just about shops. Behind every shimmering necklace in a showroom window lies a maze of narrow alleys and even narrower rooms, where karigars – artisans – melt, mould and shape gold by hand. These galan karkhanas (gold melting workshops) have been tucked away in these lanes for generations. Here, fire meets patience, and metal learns the language of tradition. With roots tracing back to the early 20th century—and showrooms like Deb Jewellers standing tall since the 1950s—Bowbazar weaves a golden narrative, not measured in carats, but in quiet craft and community. In a city brimming with jewellery hubs, why does this particular stretch, with its worn shutters and age-old tools, still stir something deeper?

The Hidden Goldsmith’s Map of Kolkata

Inside one such dimly lit workshop on Refuge Lane, we met Sardan Hussain, a gold artisan with 25 years of work etched into his palms. “Pehle sab kuch haath se hota tha,” he says — earlier, everything was crafted by hand. “Previously, we used candlelight to melt down the gold, but now we use gas stoves—like regular LPG gas, which is also used for cooking. Most factories use this kind of gas because it's less harmful to our health and makes the process easier and more time-efficient." He adds with a shrug, “Things are much better now in terms of work, but in terms of payment and other aspects, the situation is much worse. The high trends in artificial, silver, or junk jewellery, along with the fluctuating cost of gold, have made things difficult for us. Sometimes there’s no work at all, or we get paid less.” His voice lowers.

Younger karigars like Prashant and Omkar, whose grandfather migrated from Pune and made Bowbazar home, carry this legacy with a mix of pride and concern. “It’s a family art for us,” Prashant says. “During the pandemic, work stopped. Even after the second wave, it took months to get going again.” The lockdowns hit not just business but the very rhythm of this community. Omkar joins in, worried about how the demand has changed. “People nowadays are not buying gold like they used to. We've heard from our father and grandfather that in India, especially in Bengal, every household used to have some amount of gold, which was called stree dhon. Over the years, the value of gold has increased a lot, and that is the main reason people are not buying gold now. These days, people are often buying a lesser amount of gold ornaments compared to before. And that’s why our work is getting affected and becoming more difficult.” As they work, Omkar also explains the process — a reminder of how detail and discipline go hand in hand in this trade. “There are multiple stages and time required to make a single ornament. Suppose a necklace goes through 15 stages" Prashant added the time limit "kariban 2 Hafte Lagte Hain. Ek necklace taiyar karne mein." 

At first, they have to melt the gold, and then it passes on to the person who makes small threads, like wire, out of the gold. Then it passes through someone who uses or blends the khat with the gold, and then to the person who crafts the gold according to the shape. First, they melt candle wax and make the sculpture out of plaster. They pour the plaster over the candle and remove it after it gets solidified, leaving the small details of the ornament behind in the plaster. Then they pour melted gold and craft it according to the design. Then they again refine the details with hand-crafting. Then they polish the gold once again. And this is how it takes 15 stages — one by one — and a lot of time and attention.

Kalyan Dutta, a jewellery shop owner with over 40 years in the business and three stores across Kolkata, remembers it all from the early days. “I started as an administrative under my father, I watched Karigars very closely,” he says. With a smile tinged with nostalgia, he adds, “I used to observe the gold artisans’ work when I went to Bowbazar with my father.” He reflects on how gold crafting has evolved: “The Swarnshilpo term in gold artistry has been redefined by newly introduced machinery. Nowadays, almost everything is done with machinery, so the Swarnshilpo term isn't very applicable anymore,” according to him. Still, he proudly states, “Bowbazar definitely has a legacy of both traditional and modern gold jewellery, and it remains the hub and cultural nerve of gold artistry, craft, and art.”

He even shares an old-school trick to test gold's purity— a reminder of the deep knowledge embedded in these lanes. “Today, modern machinery can detect gold purity, but there’s a simple trick you can do yourself. If you have a koshthi pathor and some nitric acid, first rub the gold on the stone. Then pour a small amount of nitric acid on it. If the rubbing scratch remains, then the gold is pure. If the scratch fades away, then there’s something wrong with your gold.”

The Artisan’s Alley Vs Rising Price of Gold

Even today, if you wander down B.B. Ganguly Street on a late afternoon, you’ll find gold shops gently humming with activity — some customers admiring intricate kundan work, others negotiating the price of a sitahaar, their voices low but hopeful. According to jeweller Kalyan Dutta, despite the surge in gold prices, there’s still a loyal group of buyers — people who trust in the timeless value of gold over fleeting fashion trends. But things have changed. With the advent of hallmarking and purity verification like the GOLD 916 stamp, today’s market is tilted toward transparency and customer trust. This shift, while empowering for buyers, has quietly reshaped the lives of karigars.

The margin for error is thinner; where once they might return 95 grams of gold out of 100 due to loss in crafting, today they’re held to stricter limits, barely allowed to lose 2–3 grams. Artisans no longer enjoy the same leeway or control, their tools and techniques restrained by modern standards and reduced demand. And yet, amidst this quiet upheaval, the craft continues — threading legacy with adaptation, detail with discipline. Bowbazar stands not only as a marketplace but as a living museum of tradition, where the clang of metal and the murmur of bargaining echo through generations. The rising price of gold may be reshaping how we buy and how much we buy, but it also sharpens the need to protect the hands that make it all possible. So next time you hold a gold ornament, remember the fire, the fingers, and the fading freedom behind it. Support the artisans. Support the craft. And let Bowbazar’s story not just glitter — but glow.