Character Building

The enduring language of Indian streets

The neon sign of Senco Jewellery House stands out in a sea of wooden lettering in Kolkata’s Bowbazar. The style may be conventional, but the Bangla letters are arranged with conspicuous care. Vertical typesetting in this script can be a minefield, because vowel and other marks are attached both above and below the base characters. The gaps between ঘ়ে, লা and রী give the impression that the syllabic units are equidistant.
The neon sign of Senco Jewellery House stands out in a sea of wooden lettering in Kolkata’s Bowbazar. The style may be conventional, but the Bangla letters are arranged with conspicuous care. Vertical typesetting in this script can be a minefield, because vowel and other marks are attached both above and below the base characters. The gaps between ঘ়ে, লা and রী give the impression that the syllabic units are equidistant.
02 December, 2025

We’re glad this article found its way to you. If you’re not a subscriber, we’d love for you to consider subscribing—your support helps make this journalism possible. Either way, we hope you enjoy the read. Click to subscribe: subscribing

Everywhere you look in the city, there are words. Words that explain where you are, that tell you where to go, what to buy and eat. The graphic form of these words gives neighbourhoods their visual identities, and how we perceive their material and design informs our experience of these spaces. But who writes these words? Sign painters, such as Delhi-based Mohanlal Sihani, have been shaping the appearance of their localities by plying their craft, showcasing artistic voices without much recognition.

LEFT: This sign, created by Iqbal Arts, reinforces how crucial typographic style and composition are to a sign’s success. RIGHT: Wooden signs are common on older dining establishments such as this one in Bengaluru. While the Kannada and Latin texts lack stylistic similarity, a common material and thoughtful alignment make the multi-script sign cohesive.
Mushtaqa Ahmed paints a Tamil sign in Triplicane, Chennai.

One is accustomed to framing cities in broad sweeps, and studying architectural—and even typographic—choices of historic or significant buildings. Who made these decisions and why helps better understand what these edifices and the letterforms on them hope to signal. Everyday signs, like those on the chemist shop or the next-door eatery, are rarely afforded this scrutiny. Likewise, to appreciate local signs, one must centre the people who design and make them, as well the community and infrastructure that nurture their craft.

Thanks for reading till the end. If you valued this piece, and you're already a subscriber, consider contributing to keep us afloat—so more readers can access work like this. Click to make a contribution: Contribute