Letters of Punjab, India: Amritsar, its Golden Temple and Mister Keshav
While reading this article, you can listen to Gurbani Kirtan
The Golden Temple
Just after the 2017 new year’s eve, a two-day detour from our Rajasthani itinerary brought Nadia and I to the city of Amritsar, the second largest in the north-western Indian state of Punjab. Its peculiar identity is largely shaped by the vast community of Sikhs. They have a reputation for being brave and strong warriors (as well as for not allowing the cut or trim of their hair and facial hairs). For the Sikhs, the Harmandir Sahib or Golden Temple is the holiest of all shrines. Located in the heart of Amritsar, it may well be the most spectacular place we have visited in India. We headed there as soon as we arrived in town. We got to admire the temple in the cold grey light of the Punjabi afternoon, and then witnessed the sun lazily making way for the night. That is when the golden building in the midst of the holy tank’s water is arguably at its best, shining as suggestive as ever under bright artificial lights. While walking around it among the believers, even a staunch atheist like myself could not help but feel some mystical energy in the air.
All along the arched walls that define the perimeter of the court, one can admire countless inscriptions carved in white marble. Benefactors often coming from exotic locations like New Jersey, Canada or England are thanked for their generosity. On large white slabs, black carved letters in the Gurmukhi and Latin scripts coexist peacefully side by side. The latter are sans-serif capitals, with rather monolinear stroke. These alphabets can be quite peculiar in style, also thanks to little idiosyncrasies that make them highly recognizable. I was attracted by what seemed to be the hand of one author, defined by a few letters with unusual construction: firstly a variation on the typical Indian vernacular G, here featuring a longer horizontal bar extending inwards; but also a Y with a curved entry stroke to the left and straight diagonal to the right. These inscriptions often date from the last twenty years or so. If I am lucky enough to visit the Golden Temple again one day, I will investigate the identity of the artist or artists behind these works.
Street ampersands of Amristar
The morning after, we dived into the town center, following loosely the itinerary that local guide Davinder Singh had recommended us.
The itinerary was a great way to get exposed to an orgy of signs, handpainted in different letter styles. Many were old and rusty. A good mix of different scripts could be seen: Latin, Gurmukhi, Devanagari, Arabic. To my eye, used to the abundance of Devanagari found in some of the Rajasthani towns I had visited in the previous days, Amritsar seemed to offer a large number of Latin letters. The local ampersands grabbed my attention for their inventiveness, one letter construction being particularly popular: the e-derived lettershape had two round, usually open counters, and was completed by a more or less detached finishing stroke to the right. Comparing these ampersands with those specific to other cities of India can give an idea of the incredible variety of the vernacular letters of this country.
Commissioning a sign to Mr. Keshav
Should you need the services of a sign painter in Amritsar, you should head East of the Golden Temple to Lohgarh Chowk, just outside the city walls. Here is a cluster of four specialized shops, a couple meters only one from the other. These days they can help you with a broad range of jobs, from vinyl letters for the decor of your motorbike’s tank to printed license plates — also for the decor of your motorbike. But of course, they can still help you with a good old handpainted sign too. The four shops looked quite similar one to the other. In order to pick my one, I consulted with the owner of a store located on the other side of the road. I gave him a couple of names of painters I had encountered the work of while walking through the streets of Amritsar, namely Shri Chander and Keshav. He recognised the latter, and directed me straight away to the second shop from the left.
There I met Mr. Keshav, his son and their apprentice. A local kid interceded, translating my words of introduction. I said I would like to commission an artwork on a small plate. I asked for the words Riccardo and Nadia, this time transliterated into Punjabi through the Gurmukhi script. Despite my attempts to get the man himself producing the sign, it soon became clear that the apprentice will be the one dealing with my request. Mr. Keshav only defined what the spelling would be, on a notebook which he then handed over to the apprentice. The latter introduced himself as Ram. He had been painting since he was fourteen. He applied a sticker to the small plate where he was about to produce the artwork, and asked me instructions on the style and colors we required. Then he executed with good confidence and pace, using a small brush.
Commissioning this piece to Mr. Keshav was not quite as rewarding as my experience with Mr. Praveen of Gemini Arts in Jodhpur had been a few days before. He simply did not seem very interested in talking about his work. Nor were him and his crew excited by my unusual request. A trace of enthusiasm appeared only when Nadia asked them to pose for a group picture in the shop.
For a collection of the letters I photographed in Amritsar, including the ones from the Golden Temple, see this Flickr album.
Below is a map of the area of Lohgarh Chowk, Amritsar, where Mr. Keshav and other signpainters are located.
