Indian architect and writer engaged in the intersection between spaces, ecologies and communities.
Humane cities center around the relationships between people and places. Communities thrive on shared resources, public spaces, and a collective vision for their locality. To nurture happy and healthy cities, designers and the public apply methods of placemaking to the urban setting. Placemaking—the creation of meaningful places—strongly relies on community-based participation to effectively produce magnetic public spaces.
An ancient Indian folktale narrates the story of a demigod, Hiranyakashipu, who was granted a boon of indestructibility. He wished for his death to never be brought about by any weapon, human or animal, not at day or night, and neither inside nor outside his residence. To cease his wrathful ways, Lord Vishnu took the form of a half-human-half-animal to slay the demigod at twilight at the threshold of his house.
Threshold architectural spaces have always held deep cultural meaning to the people of India. In-between spaces are found in the midst of daily activities as courtyards, stairways, and verandas. The entrance to the house is revered by Indians of all social backgrounds. Throughout the country’s varied landscape, transitional entry spaces are flanked by distinctive front verandas that merge the street with the house.
At a hospital, patients are always one conversation away from good or bad news. When not being rushed into treatment rooms, the sick are often left to feel stressed about their health. Healthcare workers have one of the most stressful jobs, with sudden changes in patient conditions. The general atmosphere in traditional hospitals seems tense and worrisome, and this has an adverse effect on patients’ well-being.
Nature has continually played muse to architects. Colors and forms from the natural world find themselves embedded in artificial edifices. Buildings are also shaped by patterns of the wind and sun, topography, and vegetation. While architecture is informed by the effects of nature, buildings have been proposed as inert objects that remain static in a biologically evolving world. Anthropocentric concrete “jungles” are devoid of life, separating humans from natural environments and causing imbalances that have manifested as pandemics. What would cities look like if there were no boundaries between humans and ecosystems?
“Creating an equitable city implies that every citizen has their needs met”, states architect Wanda Dalla Costa at a time when metropolises were noticing change. Architects and the public have started to acknowledge the gender-driven design of public spaces. Across the world, urban areas have been a site of discrimination and danger to the LGBTQ+ community. Gender is demonstrated in public zones that promote visibility and interaction between people. An arduous challenge lays upon architects and planners to design fair environments and equitable spaces.
Living in an urban environment is demanding. Busy and competitive lifestyles leave people numbed from the effects of stress. Individuals in urban areas are more prone to mental health issues and demonstrate a noticeable lack of personal connection. Rosy city lights and skyscrapers are thorned with rising stress levels, posing an essential question to architects - how do spaces affect wellbeing?
Built environments are a reflection of the social order and dynamic ideals of society. Neighborhoods and cities are cultural relics shaped by diverse communities, some of whose voices are heard louder than others. In the past few decades, Indian metropolitans have been booming with urbanization. Holding cities back from being Utopian hubs of growth is spatial inequality. The residential segregation that patterns the cities of India can be understood through the caste system. The issue, however, is largely intersectional. Forces rooted in class, religion, and gender also structure the country's social landscape.
Upon becoming a sovereign country, free from British Rule, the people of India found themselves faced with questions they had never needed to answer before. Coming from different cultures and origins, the citizens began to wonder what post-independence India would stand for. The nation-builders now had the choice to carve out their own future, along with the responsibility to reclaim its identity - but what was India's identity? Was it the temples and huts of the indigenous folk, the lofty palaces of the Mughal era, or the debris of British rule? There began a search for a contemporary Indian sensibility that would carry the collective histories of citizens towards a future of hope.
