Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Language Crossovers

Well,

Sometimes, things that you dread might give you pleasure. I am actually referring to a Hindi translation of the brief that we handed over to the first year class for the upcoming AD project. Initially I thought it was really tedious, but soon I realized about the brilliant google translator. I quickly put the text in it and - there it was! Translation was almost done!

I sent it over mail to my student. And pop came a reply, saying that ‘it wasn’t enough’. Initially I was irritated on the lack of acknowledgement, but I thought I rather not get into all that, and looked at the translation carefully. I understood that it wasn’t a 100% translation. But what fascinated me was the perfect translation of some specific words. That provoked me to deal with the brief myself!

So I went on, and explored my Hindi vocabulary trying to test if I was still as good in Hindi, as I was as a student. But apart from that, the language came to me very easily! I remember my father making me stand besides him, making me read arduous English answers and translating certain difficult words into Hindi. It was easier to digest the English answers then. Actually, he pushed us towards learning Hindi during the summer vacations, before the subject was formally introduced to us in school. So we used to actually maintain Hindi word meaning books. Every day we would collect words and show it to him when he returned from office.

The play in language fascinated me then. I had started writing poetries since the age of 10? It was a hybrid kind of poem - exploring the homophony in the word 'bus' in Hindi and English. That was when my parents laughed at my 6-line poetry! But I continued…because that laugh was an encouraging one. I don’t know why, but I started writing in English after that. Perhaps Hindi was not formally introduced to us as a subject then and I wasn’t equipped with the vocabulary of the language. And also, I had already learnt English words which would rhyme. Well that was how they taught in schools – easier words first – so pot, hot, cot – and cat, mat, bat… all these became a part of my poetry…

But I had no idea about how a poetry is structured, or why does one write it. I wrote poetries purely for enjoying the vocabulary I had learnt. The structure of my poetries also came from the kind of poetries we had…cat sitting on the mat, and eating the rat! And all that… At that time, I thought that even I could make poetries. And I did make some.

As eventually Hindi language was formally introduced, I could feel a step ahead of others. We used to get only Hindi newspaper then – because mummy could read Hindi better than English. What intrigued me then was the crosswords in the Hindi newspapers. My mother would ask me religiously for a pen or a pencil to fill up the blanks of the Hindi crossword. She would sometimes ask my father for cracking answers, when stuck. This dialogue of my parents was a part of our formative years. But later on, a weird phenomenon followed – I was still not prepared to solve a Hindi crossword puzzle. So I would start filling them in English! Yes – the Hindi cross words in English! It sounds funny! Well, even my mother laughed at it. But again, the laugh was encouraging. I started making my own English crosswords for others. I would give it to my friends to solve. And they would happily solve it! But that was not enough! Anyone can pose a problem…the fun is in solving them. So I now started taking the Hindi crosswords seriously. Initially, I could solve only 3 or 4 words in the cross words in Hindi. But as I kept practicing, later, I would almost solve half or 3/4ths of it. There was only one instance when I solved it completely (or perhaps one blank remaining?). But by then, I had learnt the trick. The crosswords were so silly, that they used to play around with the same words…it was within a limited vocabulary! Once I figured the pattern of the repetition, then I slowly started to get out of that whole thing again!

Later I learnt figures of speech in English – and a new structure of poetry dawned upon me. Initially it was difficult. I always was influenced with the more rhyming ones, the more rhythmic poems. So the abstract ones were never really appreciated by me.

During this time, I wrote some really nice poems; one of them actually got published in an American anthology! I have never seen it (in physical sense) yet, but hope to see if life gives me an opportunity to travel to America. Anyway, I think it was this time when my parents would see the ‘kavi-sammelans’ on doordarshan. (Till 10th standard, I did not have the luxury of a cable television). But the way my parents would sit and enjoy these poetry recitations made me feel that perhaps poetry and poets are some kind of magical people – but what are they saying? That I did not understand. Neither did I ask my parents that time. But I continued writing.

By 10th standard, I had some 30-40 ideas for poems, sometimes, some interesting words which rhymed. I kept noting them in my notebook. But I never actually found time to string them into some context. So they remain as incomplete poems. I enjoy reading them now.

In the meanwhile, during 11th, I met my friend Nikhil, who is a classical singer. He used to sing classical verses to me, he used to compose songs, and make me listen. I was learning music too, and I could understand the expressions that he could bring out. I would also see my guru composing verses in different ragas. I think it was then, when I got interested in Hindi poetry. I have some experiments in Hindi too. But I always felt more comfortable with English. Thereby, one of my poems is published in the Bhavan’s annual journal too (2002-03?). During this time, my poetry slowed down, I was occupied too much with studies. By 10th I had taken to writing, maintaining my own essay book. Later in 12th, the chairman of Agrawal Classes (where I was trained), suggested that one must maintain a diary. It helps to know one’s own character. I thought about it and started writing. I maintained it for about 2 to 3 years. Till 2nd year architecture? And its then when the blog occurs.

However, the criss cross of language was an interesting one. My Hindi professor was very fond of me (actually many teachers were!), because I was an excellent Hindi student. So today when I translated this text, I revisited those days, when I would produce excellent Hindi essays. And in this writing, there is so much of the detail in the language that I have missed…I think it will take another mail to point the interesting words out! But I have more to say about the language. And meanwhile, I give you the text which Prakriti and I have translated and edited.


Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Architectural Research


In the past 8 months or so, I have learnt a few things about research. So that I don't forget it, and also to help a beginner in architectural (or other) research, I enlist my learning:

1.     Any research will require data to work upon. This will be either collected by readings, surveys or interviews.
2.     The way one collects, organizes or understands data drives the research.
·      The way we methodically interpret data is called Hermeneutics
·      The way we organize/classify data is called Ontological study
·      The way we understand data is a part of Epistemology (study of knowledge)
3.     At the beginning of research, one clearly defines the Scope of Study, clearly stating what one is going to look at, and what is going to be overlooked by the researcher.
4.     It is not the answer or the conclusion which is important in the research, rather how intelligently the question is asked. The mode of inquiry allows things to be looked at in a new light.
5.     Hypothesis, Postulation, Question – these are ways to begin with. They may be proved wrong or right at the end of research, which are also highly depended on the kind of data collected.
6.     In qualitative methods, it is not the amount of data, but choosing just the right “example” that will prove your hypothesis. One may just go for five cases and argue for them. In quantitative analysis, the numbers are more important.
7.     The way one presents data itself is a new way of looking at existing conditions – Pictures, stories, texts, Maps, films, audio novels, graphic novels – all are ways of seeing. A researcher has to select a medium which will best explain the intent of his study. This is called Mode of Representation.

I can’t remember anything more. Will add to the list if possible. Meanwhile, others can critique or add to it!

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Autobiography of a Medal

I am round, and I bulge at the centre. And when everyone take me in their hands, they say I am heavy. I never know if they mean it in a good or a bad way…since today is the era of being slim. Nevertheless, I ignore the comment by reflecting off people’s faces on my shiny surface. I am smooth, I am gold. I have 4 brothers too, who were born with me. But their naming ceremony has not taken place. They are not labeled. They are smooth and plain. My face has been engraved on both sides. On one side, there are nine squares, embossed, still making a square. Below that, it reads “THE CHARLES CORREA GOLD MEDAL”. However, that is not embossed, but engraved. On the other side, it says “ANUJ DAGA 2008”. I wonder who are these two people, and why would I be named after them?

I am lying safe in my home, on my soft bed. They never take me out, and since I have been made, there are always mumblings I hear from a person who says, “It has come, I don’t know when it will be given to you!” For a long time I did not hear anything after that, perhaps it was about 6 months I was lying in my house. I was bored. Then suddenly, an old man took me and started shouting:

“Why is this 2008, no one knows anything, we gave the award in 2009...what is this? Who got this done? Call the manager…there is no system in place…”

I was scared…I wondered if they have only kept my name, why are they now regretting it? Will they scratch my smoothness again…? Will they deface me? Later I don’t know what happened, they closed me in the box for 2 weeks and suddenly, I felt like an earthquake one fine day, when I was sleeping quietly…they were taking me somewhere…in a car, I could feel the gravity in my round bulgy belly. It was a ride, exciting. I was safe, since I had a lot of cushions with me. I padded myself in them! They finally exposed me to light…the same old hands again took me…I could feel them…big hands. And they wondered about where was my ribbon! Did they want to tie me up somewhere? they were puzzled, and they just closed me in my comfortable space and sent back in the car, after which I was again opened in a house…and again some old hands held me. She was a lady, soft and tender. She added a blue satin ribbon to my ring. It was beautiful. I liked it. It furled around and tickled me. And it was shiny too…

I was finally closed in my box, and was locked tight.

The next time I was opened, was today. As soon as the lid opened, I heard applause. There were so many people. The old hands took me, and hung me to another person…I was swinging…it felt nice. This was the first time I experienced freedom. I felt weightless, though I was bulky. When I touched the person through whom I was swinging, I could feel a thumping heart, an excited motion. May be I made someone happy.

And later, many people touched me, felt me…my smooth body, they repeated a name “ANUJ DAGA”…I wondered why are they taking my name…may be I was famous. This young boy took my picture too. I smiled back at him, with a shiny smile. I think he likes me. Now you tell me how I look in the picture he has taken, so that I am assured I will be happy with him all my life!

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Gaze

City Critique

 
I love this scrap piece of building near Churchgate station. One can see it while just entering the Churchgate station. The building is hollow, with windows poked all on its body, looking out to nowhere. I haven't figured out an entrance to this building. But the juxtaposition of windows and the composition that they create are beautiful. I wonder if such a place can become a gallery...or some place for light show or more interactive. 


They are replacing the old beautiful stone pavers from the entire fort precinct pavement into concrete ones. however, look at  the disinterest with which they are doing it. There is no sense of detail, no love for work. The new edges of the pavers are not even aligned with the tree linings. They cut the pavers absurdly every time, and keep putting pieces mundanely to finish their job. I wonder what UDRI is doing sitting just behind the place where this is happening. There is no Urbanity, no Design, no reflection of Research and no Institution in picture.




Some buildings in the city are so selfish and unfriendly that they do not want people to touch them, play with them or even use them. The edges of the Eros Cinema are cladded with sharp urban thorns. So they do not allow people who are waiting there to sit on its edges. Why can't public building be truly public. There is no sense of urban design, no idea of what a building can do. The Eros perhaps took this step because the visibility of the posters at the back might be hampered. Why couldn't the posters play with possibly the people sitting on the edge? 

Sigh!

We just need an earthquake...
We need to restart...

Saturday, February 06, 2010

On the station

I spotted this completely traditionally dressed old man on the station today and could not help but take a picture. He looked absolutely contrasting against the fast passing train. It was a different combination of the old and the new. And while i turned behind waiting for the train, I could see all the people engrossed in different activities - a student studying his notes, a man reading newspaper, the smell of vada pavs, a man running towards the first class, people talking on the mobile phone, some people peeping on the station towards the train - so many things which the camera can not capture...






















Mornings are active, and seeing the sun rise every day is beautiful...especially from a moving train, which reels the city against the static sun, cutting profiles into the full orange circle and making new geometries all the time!

Nihara's house

I suddenly happened to go to Nihara's house on Wednesday. She shifted to this new place after marriage due to some personal reasons with her new family. The house was cozy simple space - the kitchen separated with a curtain, cut short by a bathroom, which was filled with buckets of water! They had a single cupboard, a single diwan, refrigerator and a television. What was the most fascinating thing was the cooking gas stove, which she could easily carry across the curtained partition of the kitchen into the living space and cook food along with the guest (or her partner otherwise). I felt that was  nice. In our conventional homes where kitchen becomes almost an isolated space with no connection with the rest of the house, here, the kitchen was brought in the living.


Since Swapnil met with an accident, he came home instead of attending his site visit. He then showed me a gift that he prepared for Nihara for her birthday (love marriages I say!). It was the backdrop of the television space (the photo frame, and the frame for the frames). The house is rented space, so there can be no permanent alterations. So all the objects are about (atleast one inch) away from the wall. The TV, diwan, cupboard, fridge, poofie...everything. Even a small aquarium, which has about 5 fishes. They feed them from time to time. I wondered if people actually become so lonely! Or is it just the fascination?



It was nice and cozy, still free...I could feel the freedom. Homes have become so institutionalized that they have become like museums. Why can they be a bit more relaxed. Like this one. I wonder how it fits with the other parameters of family, work, lifestyle... where each category has an individual aspiration. Does Nihara live with aspiration? i could not really discuss that with her. But "making one's home" is definitely an aspiration of the family. How does it cope up such expectation within a rented space - where life is lived an inch away from the walls? I wonder. Perhaps then, house starts becoming a collection of objects. And these objects seem alien, though fulfil the aspiration of a complete house.

We spoke about things, which were a kind of continuation to the five years of architecture. And this is what is always different in talking with Nihara, Madhavi ... the freshness of talk, which is always leading towards newer directions in life. I dont know if i am making sense over here, but these are abstract thoughts which i keep questioning...of what would friends talk in different phases of their life, what would the scenario be with different constraints with living...of what are the pleasure giving things later, how does the idea of these experiences change...? Unlike with my other groups of friends, who always end up consummating all discussion in a nostalgic past, talks with Nihara's company is a continuation of where we stopped last...with the flavour of same old jokes, old memories, but seen in new light.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Meetings



 KRVIA after class discussion

AOA Meet at Marzaban's place to discuss new prog




Meeting school friends!

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Express City

The BEST buses constantly try and update its services. Some time ago, it started this new idea of having Rs. 20 tickets which would allow you to travel throughout the day anywhere within the suburbs north of Bandra. There was also a Rs. 25 ticket – the regulations of which I don’t know. Then there were passes for regular route travelers and a global pass for Rs. 1000 which could be used throughout Mumbai all the time.

I think after that, half the world travelling in Mumbai BEST buses started using these 20 rupee tickets and passes – school students, office goers, courier wallahs, workers, bhaji wallahs, delivery men, service men – all of them. Perhaps only those who now took tickets were the house wives who would occasionally travel to some places via the bus.

Some time ago, I confronted this new situation – the express bus, in which passes, 20 rupee ticket and 25 rupee tickets would not be sold or not be allowed. Moreover, the ticket charges in the bus would be more than the normal. The argument provided was that it would not stop on all bus stations, and was to reach the destination faster thus. However, many people did not (and still do not know about such a service). In the morning today, I decided to take this bus, just to avoid waiting too long in the queue. As the bus moved, I realized that it wasn’t still clear to people that the ‘express’ bus would not allow passes or 20 rupee tickets. So there were many people who got in and then the bus driver waited on each stop for them to get down again!

Two observations which I would like to point out –
1. Most of these 20 rupee travelers were north Indians (UP and Bihar).
2. The ‘express’ bus stopped at all stops and waited extra time to convey the message about who is allowed and not allowed.

Whom has the BEST service brought out this 20 rupee scheme for? this question might not be relevant, or politically incorrect, but the pressure on the buses is increasing day by day. everyday chaos, standing in long queues, negotiating getting in, jumping, running, crawling, sticking onto the buses, traveling has become painful. When the bus gets crowded, the corporeal experience changes – its no longer visual. the environment of a bus is then extremely polluted, people rubbing against you, stamping, farting, sweating and all of it is literally shared with everyone. the smell is suffocating, and the amount of jerks that the driver puts you in does not leave any chance of hitting on to all these ‘kinds of people’.

The time of commute is less than the time we wait for a bus. It takes me 45 minutes to travel from Churchgate to Goregaon (30 km), while one hour to go from Goregaon station to Dindoshi (1.5 km). What kind of a service is this? While new neighbourhoods have come up, it seems that the existing infrastructure has been divided into many routes. Where there were 6 buses to choose from earlier to go to my place, now there are only 3.

However, today’s travel clearly shows that the public transport has shrunk to carry only the menial working class of the city. New plans are developed for these new workers of the city. A new opportunity is seen in this migrant population which run the city. The basic standards of a bus are constantly modified – they play old songs repeatedly, earlier coupled seats are separate, they are made up in plastic, windows slide sideways, there are stop gates in the front (which are still barged)…
Whom is the city changing for? I wonder.