In Lucknow, the capital of Uttar Pradesh and a city known for its Nawabi heritage and artisanship, 55-year-old Azhar Hussain sits at the bench where he has spent years making decorative footwear. His tools are still there, but the customers are not. Amid soaring silver prices over the past year, demand for his work has plummeted.
The small workshop sits beside Chowk Bazaar, one of Old Lucknow’s oldest and busiest markets, a famed hub for wedding shopping full of silver jewellery and handcrafts.
For three decades, Hussain has been one of the bazaar’s busiest craftsmen, making a distinctive form of silver slip-on shoes, known locally as nagras.
He starts by cutting a thin silver sheet into the outline of a nagra, then sketches floral and leaf motifs onto the metal. Hussain then rests the sheet on heated lac, a soft natural resin that cushions the metal while he uses a hammer and engraving tool to tap intricate designs into place.
Hussain then bends the silver around a foot-shaped furma, or mould, before fitting it over a base of cardboard, rubber and velvet, soldering the pieces together and polishing the pair. Craftsmen have used this process to make silver nagras since the 1600s.
Originally, the decorative shoes were made for daily use by the Nawabi, Muslim rulers of the former kingdom of Awadh.
“Silver nagras used to be the most important part of a nawab’s attire,” said 68-year-old Nawab Masud Abdullah, an eighth-generation descendant of Nawab Muhammad Ali Shah, the ninth Nawab of Awadh, who ruled from 1837 until he died in 1842.
“They were not just footwear; they represented our culture and heritage,” he added.
Once reserved exclusively for Nawabs, silver nagras have become a cherished wedding tradition over the last century, embraced by Lucknow’s middle and upper classes alike.
“Our forefathers wore silver nagras every day. Later, they became reserved for celebrations and eventually only for special occasions,” Abdullah explained. “The good thing was that the tradition spread beyond the Nawabs. People, particularly brides across Lucknow, embrace it as their own and now a bride is considered incomplete without a nagra.”
Hussain and his family of craftsmen have seen this transformation firsthand.
“In the past, only Nawabs could afford these shoes because they symbolised wealth, power and status,” he said. “But over the last seven or eight decades, they became popular among middle-class and wealthy families too, especially for weddings and special occasions.”
There are two types of silver nagras — open-toed chappals and closed-toed jutis, and customers can choose different patterns, ornamentation and designs.
Lucrative trade vanishes
Hussain’s family has been making nagras since the early 1900s and the trade has provided a comfortable living. Before each wedding season, he has typically made about 10 pairs a month, he says, with each priced between $105 and $230 (10,000 and 22,000 rupees).
“We lived with dignity,” he said quietly. “We earned enough to feed our family, educate our children and save a little every month. We never imagined that one day we would struggle even to run our household.”
Over the past year, however, the orders have vanished with the rise in silver prices. The metal was already costing a bit more before the U.S.-Iran war launched in February, owing to tight supplies and growing investor demand. But the conflict added another jolt, as uncertainty in global markets drove investors towards silver and put the metal — and the nagras — out of reach for many Lucknow shoppers.
War-driven price rises
Prices for precious metals actually began rising with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine back in early 2022, but economists say prices surged significantly with the US and Israeli attacks on Iran.
In 2023, silver prices in India largely fluctuated between $725 (70,000 rupees) and $830 (80,000 rupees) per kilogramme, rising to around $985 (98,000 rupees) in 2024. But this year, amid the conflict with Iran, silver prices briefly soared as high as $4,670 (450,000 rupees) per kg before easing after the ceasefire. Even now, after some decline, prices are hovering around $2,600 (250,000 rupees) per kg, more than three times their levels just a few years ago.
Dr. Salahuddin Ayyub, an economist and international trade expert with India’s Ministry of Commerce and Industry, said geopolitical conflicts have triggered unprecedented volatility in global commodity markets.
“When stock markets become volatile, investors move their money into safer assets, such as gold and silver,” Ayyub explained. “This sudden surge in demand pushes the prices of precious metals sharply upwards.”
The consequences have been particularly severe in India, he said, because gold and silver remain deeply intertwined with weddings, other cultural traditions and family savings. As prices continue to rise, many households are increasingly opting for lower-cost alternatives, such as artificial jewellery.
He warned that while consumers may find substitutes, those whose livelihoods depend on the precious metals industry, including artisans, silversmiths, jewellery shopkeepers and traditional craftsmen, have far fewer options.
“The impact extends well beyond consumers,” Ayyub said. “Entire communities whose incomes depend on these metals are now facing shrinking demand and growing economic uncertainty.”
The surge in silver prices has had another consequence that is often overlooked by the government and policymakers. According to Ayyub, when a country witnesses a sharp rise in demand for imported precious metals, governments often intervene to curb imports and protect their foreign exchange reserves.
“India depends heavily on imported silver. A sudden spike in imports puts pressure on the country’s foreign exchange reserves, so the government tries to discourage excessive imports through tariffs and other restrictions,” Ayyub said.
These import duties are eventually passed on to consumers. “As tariffs increase, the landed cost of silver rises. That is one of the reasons why silver prices in India are currently trading above global prices,” he said.
Globally, silver currently costs $2,100 (201,000 rupees) per kg, but in India, it’s more than 20 percent higher because of heavy government import taxes and strict licensing that chokes off supply. India depends on imports to meet more than 80% of its domestic silver demand and its purchases account for over 20 percent of the global trade in refined silver.
India more than doubled its effective import taxes on gold and silver in May. That saw silver imports plunge by 87 percent to just $75.6 million that month, down from $566.2 million the previous year, the country’s lowest level in over three years.
High silver prices are now forcing Lucknow’s brides to make tough, sometimes devastating, decisions.
Bridal choices
For 28-year-old Lucknow resident Uzma Siddique, who is set to marry in December, owning and wearing a pair of silver nagras on her big day has always topped her wedding wishlist.
“My mother wore silver nagras at her wedding in 1992. So did my grandmother and so did my great-grandmother,” Siddique said. “I always imagined myself wearing them and taking my wedding photographs in them and posting them on Instagram. It was never just footwear; it was an emotion and a family tradition.”
But when she visited the market with plans to order a pair, the prices stunned her.
“A pair that cost around $156 to $208 (15,000 to 20,000 rupees) just a few years ago is now selling for nearly $673 (65,000 rupees),” she said.
Determined to have a pair, she decided to give up on other wedding luxuries instead.
“I had to cut back on many other wedding expenses. I bought a lighter lehenga (long skirt), reduced the number of suits I planned to purchase, and trimmed my budget in several places, just so I could afford these nagras.”
Despite the financial strain, she says giving up the footwear tradition was never an option.
“They have become incredibly expensive, but our emotions are attached to them. That’s why I still bought them,” she said.
But many of her friends have had to go without.
“Some had dreamed of wearing silver nagras on their wedding day, but they had to let go of that dream because they simply couldn’t afford them. They are deeply hurt by it,” she said.
Not far from Siddique’s home lives her friend, 25-year-old Safiya Khan, who is also getting married in December. Unlike Siddique, Safiya has not been able to buy silver nagras for her wedding.
From a lower middle-class family, she says soaring prices put upholding that tradition out of reach.
“My entire wedding shopping budget is around $1,250 (120,000 rupees). I simply cannot spend more than half of it on a pair of shoes,” Khan said, noting that she was sad to end the family tradition.
“I think this tradition will end with my generation,” she said. “My mother had a pair of silver nagras, but she had to sell them last year because of financial difficulties. We always believed we would buy another pair for my wedding. Had we known silver prices would rise so dramatically, we would never have sold them.”
She has been shocked by how a distant war has so negatively affected this beloved local tradition.
“I know the recent conflicts have pushed silver prices higher, but I never imagined that a war thousands of km away could take away a tradition so close to my heart,” she said. “I had always dreamed of taking my wedding photographs in silver nagras. Now that dream will never come true.”
Silver memories
Naseem Jahan, a Lucknow resident in her late seventies, still treasures the pair of silver chappals her mother gave her for her wedding in 1972.
“I remember my mother paid around $2.50 (250 rupees) for this pair,” Jahan recalled. “We had to wait nearly seven months after placing the order before it was finally ready. Those were beautiful days.”
More than five decades later, the silver slippers remain one of her most cherished possessions. She has them polished every three years and proudly wears them to weddings and other important family gatherings, as do many of the older women in Lucknow.
“Every time I wear them, people come to admire them and praise their beauty. That makes me so happy,” she said with a smile.
But Jahan fears the tradition may not continue into the next generation.
“Today, very few people can afford such footwear,” she said.
When she recently visited the market to buy a similar pair for her granddaughter, the soaring price of silver made it unaffordable.
Still, she wants her granddaughter to have traditional bridal footwear, so she has made a tough decision.
“I have decided to gift her my own pair,” she said. “Let these slippers adorn her feet now. I want them to continue their journey.”
As the only precious keepsake she has preserved from her wedding, Jahan knows how connected brides feel to the shoes.
“I have developed an emotional bond with them. They remind me of my mother, my wedding day and the Lucknow I grew up in. I only wish silver prices would come down again so that more people could experience this tradition.”
Jahan’s decision to part with her silver nagras will keep a pair in her family, but it will not bring new work to the craftsmen who once made the footwear for Lucknow’s brides. In Chowk Bazaar, dwindling demand has left many artisans facing the prospect of a trade that may not survive long enough to serve the next generation.
A dying breed
Jabbar Hussain, 48, a fourth-generation craftsman and shopkeeper who makes nagras and sells them in his shop, sits in his empty store in Lucknow’s Chowk Bazaar, struggling to understand what has happened to a business that once flourished.
Between June and September, Hussain’s shop would normally be crowded with customers placing orders for nagras. But over the past three months, Hussain says, he has not sold a single pair. He blames the unprecedented rise in silver prices for making the handmade footwear a luxury few can now afford.
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