Khoj, Delhi

I was in Delhi in the last week with CAMP for setting up our exhibition "As If - II: The flight of the Black Boxes" in Jorbagh. While there, I was put up at Khoj, an artist residency in Khrikee - a place that I have been to long ago as a part of the research 'Cultural spaces in India' initiated by the Goethe Institute in 2010. Then, Khoj was small bungalow with beautiful spaces and a central little courtyard. Now, it seems that Khoj has acquired some more adjoining property and enlarged its facility to include formal spaces for different activities. There are rooms for resident national or international artists, a library, cafe and other staff quarters - all organized around a courtyard. The space still is charming, although not as colourful as it was before...

CAMP began as an offshoot of Khoj when it wanted to extend its roots to Mumbai. However, CAMP went on to be an independent studio with Shaina Anand and Ashok Sukumaran ofcourse with its "background member" Sanjay Bhangar. Our brief stay in Delhi was thus hosted by Khoj in the background of this association. 

While Khoj was inactive when I went there this time - with its library closed, its director traveling, with no artists yet in, working on any project as well as the terrible weather due to which the place looked cold and grey; it certainly seemed quite appealing to me in its silence. The place has many different spaces that are funded by established artists in India, as well as some international grants. I wasn't able to interact with any one there so I am not sure about the presence of this place in Khirkee. However, of the little I know, Khoj anchors the neighbourhood in its place.

The building is visually boxed into an empty steel framework, parts of which are visible at its entrance. The little offset of the building within its plot passages into the main studios, but is converted into an information cubicle where events happenings and brochures of exhibitions are kept for pick up. Once inside, the building frames its surrounds through the metal frames and window cuts. Right opposite to Khoj is a dilapidated building - a ruin which has remained in the derelict state for about five years, Ashok mentioned. The five floor building is peeled off its walls, and has large holes on its floors. As an architect, it was fascinating to see the building in section, literally. Further, as an artist, it reminded me of Matta Clark's violent artistic acts of chopping full scale buildings. 

Inside, Khoj is hollowed into a staggering courtyard from where one gets the anatomy of the entire place. One can see the studio spaces, staircases and bridges as well as the staff quarters in the far upper corner of this box. This interior space is entirely white washed bricks. The tree within the courtyard is cute, romantic, but scales the space well. 

I am sure that each corner of Khoj creatively activates through the imagination of the artists it hosts. The culmination of the building into the terrace gives a breathtaking view of the ruin that faces it. The surprise of destruction, the forced voyeurism invited by the handicapped building, the poetic incompleteness, its political situatedness in its context and the dramatic way in which Khoj reveals the building in the end makes it truly an artistic discovery. The terrace, borrowing its partial background from the adjoining naked brick building facade is thus a viewing deck exposing to us the world it sits in.

Yet, In Search of Academic Space

In a recent meeting with the academic council at SEA, Prasad Shetty pointed out that while there are already many schools (of architecture) in our city, there is hardly any academic space. His observation particularly resonated with thoughts I shared in my essay 'In Search of Academic Space' before leaving for my masters' studies contributed for Rachana Sansad's magazine. In this same week, one of my cousins shared an article titled "Mumbai's crime is its intellectual death" by Aakar Patel. Of most things that I disagreed in the reading, I found myself ambiguously convinced about the claim of the title. In parallel, at the studio CAMP (run by artists Ashok Sukumaran and Shaina Anand) whom I am presently assisting, Ashok too pointed out the lack of people in the city whom one could have a cultural discourse with. These recurring speculations on the feeble cultural space for discourse and discussion in a thriving cosmopolitan city like Mumbai made me wonder if there really is, a lack of space for dialogue here as compared to other places?

I wonder upon the claim of the city's intellectual death (or let's say the meager existence of cultural space) in light of the fact that every other year, we witness umpteen schools opening up, new courses designed for all kinds of people - working, traveling, migrating, students, adults; new centers for art and design and so on. This would certainly mean that a significant amount of population is being mobilized in the industry of teaching. Would teaching not mean to engage in a discourse? And would it not mean that we would have a good amount of 'thinking' population. However from the speculations mentioned earlier, the intellectuals of the city don't seem to think so. 

Well, to consider that the population enrolled for teaching is 'thinking' may require some closer examination. Without a good survey, one would not be able to articulate any well rounded opinion. But what it certainly demands us to ponder upon is several aspects about 'teaching' and 'thinking' - what is the relationship between 'teaching' and 'thinking'? What differentiates the two, and how do they support each other? What does it mean to teach versus think? Finally, how does it create its own space, rather how should/can these practices carve a space for themselves? Subsequently, why is it important to have such a space and why has the city of Mumbai, after all, failed to sustain a space of discourse?

Prasad has shared an example on several occasions on the above dilemma. He says, "When a tree grows, one can understand it in many ways. One can be interested purely in what you put in and what you get out of the tree. That is, the amount of water, manure, fertilizers you put into nurturing the tree and what it produces in the form of product, as fruits, leaves, lumber, etc, (that can be sold in the market). The second way of looking at the tree is a list of 'how-s' under different conditions. For example, how does a tree behave, change, evolve, adapt or respond to the changing conditions of weather, watering, providing fertilizers, labouring and nurturing."

An academic or academia in general, he hints, must be about the latter way of looking at the object under scrutiny. While the first way of looking easily becomes an instrument of the market, or the capitalistic society in the current economic system, the second method sensitizes one to the dynamics of operation and helps intervening into it. Rather than simply consuming the norms laid by the system, one has to be able to ride on them not only towards one's own personal quests, but also to inquire, question and challenge them.

The question of the difference between teaching and thinking is complex. While it is popularly believed that teaching must enable a student to acquire enough skills to cater to the market, in other words, to understand how much to "put in" in order to "get maximum out", the academic space gears individuals to think of emerging situations and co-adapt and co-evolve with them. Providing vocational skills is what teaching often succumbs to. In the case of architecture, it would be to make sure that the student is able to draw out accurate and reasonably legible drawings using simple to complex softwares. Such a goal makes the teaching objective tangible far too quickly, and also gives a managerial agenda to the teachers - to make the students best in commanding any production tool they are handling. In addition, they want to enable students in architecture to achieve reasonable judgement over shapes and forms. Yet, this is not thinking, for it merely freezes thinking to a limited set of tools that students can utilize in their professional futures.

 To think of a tool is different from merely using it to create a product. For example, to use AutoCAD for making architectural drawings is different from thinking of it as a tool to draw. It will be helpful to mention here, for example, that Prasad publishes many of his books on an application like Microsoft Powerpoint, in addition to using it as a presentation tool. What Prasad has successfully been able to exploit is Powerpoint's facility to work with text and images/graphics in a free flowing space. He constantly tweaks the features of the system to creates books of different formats, sizes; layering multiple graphics that seem at par with others produced using more sophisticated softwares today like CorelDraw or Adobe Indesign. Does it mean that we are underutilizing these new advanced softwares? Or does it mean what Prasad is abusing Powerpoint?

Neither. The answer lies in his example on the way we look at the tree. Prasad has simply understood that each of the softwares allows one to work with text and images in different capacities. And Powerpoint is able to offer him reasonable tools to create books and publish them at his will. Expoliting its features has saved him the trouble of investing time to learn a new, highly sophisticated software. Yet, this doesnot mean that he is unaware of the potentials of the software he doesnot know. But by being cognizant of the simple rubric which lies at the heart of these programs - ie the play between text and the image, he is able to gauge the capacities of each of these production tools.

Teaching and thinking are thus different, but mutually supportive. In today's world, one could confidently claim that teaching has become redundant. With the huge amount of tutorials and self-help platforms, teaching oneself is hardly a hurdle. One just needs access to basic infrastructure like an internet or a good library. Even without these, people in India have tremendous aptitude to adapt. Take a walk along the electronic lanes or the small mobile repair shops where you will find young drop-outs fiddling with mini components of the black box and getting your dysfunctional devices operational. This is a matter of practice, that skips text books or rote learning. 

It is thus time to imagine of a form of teaching that facilitates thinking. We have to work towards a way of teaching that enable students methods of thinking and analyzing. But these pointers do not really tell us why the discursive space in a city like Mumbai has been dead? In my mind there are several speculations. Firstly, I feel there is a lurking dissonance of thoughts and values between the intellectuals of the city. They do not comply with each other and in general, there is a narrowed sense of respect. Respect is ghettoized. Secondly, there is a dire struggle to achieve power, to gain reputation. This has made the intellectual landscape extremely insecure, resulting into a kind of coldness, an inertness. Such insecurity manifests into perpetual bubbling of new institutions, where new monies are pooled in, and new resources are created. To talk in the field of architecture, there is no single space or archive which any one in the city has access to. There are no individuals or names in our city, as Aakar Patel rightly mentions as Mumbai's crime. There are no holistic institutions that offer space for different kinds of discourses to co-exist. There are several camps, there are several schools, but still thus, in my opinion, there is still a lack of an academic space.

(there are more thoughts, but in keeping the length of the blog post, more ideas will be discussed in some other writing over here subsequently)

Vartalaap at AOA

I was invited to a student run initiative 'Vartalaap' (eng: Conversation) organized at the Academy of Architecture today. Vartalaap demands the invitees to talk on a subject of their choice after which students can have a discussion with them. I was together in a session with Chaitanya Karnik for this vartalaap. I have never come across a situation where an audience is ready to listen to whatever I wanted to talk about. This invitation left me in some serious thought on what I would have to tell the world if given a podium for 30 minutes?

A few days back in an academic council meeting at SEA, I had the opportunity of meeting a number of intellectuals, practitioners and academicians from different disciplines - most of them quite noted in their own fields. In this gathering was also a film maker Madhushree Dutta, whom I have passingly known (and so has she known me passingly). Over a round of drinks she went on to narrate her initial journey into the larger arena of cultural politics, and how funding for art projects is often secured. Madhushree recalled a meeting with an organization as large as the UN where prominent people from different fields were invited and asked for what they would like to do (or so is what I remember). At that time, being a young film maker still finding her way through the cultural landscape in India, Madhu felt quite lost. She asked to herself, "Madhu, if someone asks you to talk on any topic of your choice, what will you talk?" She further asked herself, "You don't have any thing to say, to tell the world?" (quotes are not verbatim) Madhu certainly lost a great opportunity, but this piece of her experience held much importance for me. The above incident happened in Madhu's life more that 20 years ago. Recently she has been invited to be on the jury panel for documentary films that will be presented in the Venice Bienalle 2015. It's quite an honour, and Madhu was very happy too, to have traveled thus far in her professional journey.

When I was invited for Vartaalaap I faced a similar dilemma. Ofcourse this talk was not organized by any mega institution, but the pressure to think of a subject that I would have liked to talk about kept me wondering through out the week, to the effect that I demanded the organizing team to define a theme. Thoughts similar to those of Madhu's ran in my head - I wondered if I really had any thing to talk, to share? Rather, I questioned, "Don't I have any thing to talk?"

While I decided to recite a chapter of my master's thesis finally, today was a bigger relief. Chaitanya had put together a presentation last night for this session. He gave an elaborate presentation, in precise answer to the question of what after all would he have to say on the subject of architecture after his years of engagement with the very profession.

Chaitanya is an idealist, and his talk was constructed from the stand point of an idealist. He argued on what must one think like, recalling Plato, Vitruvius as well as Corbusier and their tryst with idea versus reality. Chaitanya has lectured on a similar subject with the same anecdotes to many students in the past, and I have been fortunate to have witnessed his lectures on theory of design before. The sheer energy and assertion with which he places his point is enthusiastic, and the listener is quite likely to be mesmerized by the world he creates through his passionate words. Chaitanya believes in purity - of language, expression and architecture. He has excellent command over several languages - he never mixes Hindi with English, or Bengali with Marathi - all are languages known to him personally, along with his investment in Sanskrit. He believes that everything that is true of language is true of architecture. Grammar, structure, meaning and communication - all occur when creating architecture - it is ordered. Rather, it has to be ordered.

Reeling through examples of artists and architects like Isamu Noguchi, Zaha Hadid, Le Corbusier, Gunther Uecker or traditional examples like the English Gardens or the Japanese buildings, he evoked that architecture demands perfection. Chaitanya eulogized about the personalities that the discipline of architecture celebrates too. His focus thus was on building a character, a personality one must be in order to be able to produce a piece of architecture, that leaves behind an idea, that lives much beyond a persons life. Even in the past, Chaitanya has held in his opinion that one's work is not separate from oneself. One's work is one's life and vice versa. "Our job today," he went on to say, "is to create ideas and ways to build ideas."

There were several beautiful anecdotes and comparisons from literature, sculpture, poetry and philosophy that he shared over the entire lecture, which are hard to note now, because I haven't had the chance to record them. However, intermittently he spoke of some examples like Benares, and also ended with an image showing a man on the ghats of Ganga bathing, backed by his own child perhaps, who aided to rub his back.

Chaitanya's passionate talk created a space of idealism in the room which I was hesitant to dismantle. Hesitant because I have experienced the power of idealism and also because I wanted the students to feel it so that they are energized. After all, if there is any space you can practice idealism, it is the academia. Also, idealism according to me is best employed as an academic project, or one can call it a philosophical project. It is with skepticism that I entered the conversation. Positioning myself to not be invested much in the idea of idealism any longer and to be someone who has taken to cultural mapping, I interpreted Chaitanya's notion of idealism to be top down - one that decides the ideal and works out a way to achieve it.

Within this, Chaitanya introduced personalities of two kinds, both which have different methods of deciphering the same knowledge, or truth (about the self, or the world). One is the believer and the other is the skeptic. He mentioned both as valid modes of moving towards giving birth to an idea, but personally held the position of the believer - he who believes, for example, that there exists God, there exists truth, there exists the possibility of manifesting the ideal. I seemed to hold the other extreme - that of the skeptic - that of the non-believer, the one who doubts, one who is unsure, ambiguous, although not dismissing the idea of perfection, rather interrogating it. However, both the believer and the skeptic, he said lead to the same point - whose paths are like the two opposite faces of a pyramid leading the the singular tip. The commonality between both personalities is their struggle to move towards the perfect - one is moving because he knows, the other is moving because he has to find, but towards the same goal.

The beauty of this conversation lay in the harmonious agreement of disagreements. Our comfort with each other's occasional diametrically opposite points of view did not bother each other, rather our logic of arrivals to a conclusion were clear. It also seemed that the path of belief as well as disbelief worked respectively for each of us. To simply state an example, if he believed, for instance, "God is there", I merely asked "Is God not there?" Both struggled to perhaps achieve that truth. But drives our search is the belief or disbelief respectively.

Such was the nature of today's conversation. I am hoping that there is some record that students have made of the talk by Chaitanya, for his examples were deep and beautiful.

I personally felt that the setting of vartalaap could have been different to have more interaction, it became more of a lecture rather than a conversation. For a conversation, however, both sides have to be equally prepared. Still, sometimes it is pure joy to see someone so deeply engaged in conversation with the self. In this spirit, I skipped my talk and let the audience float in the ideal space Chaitanya created for all of us.

Master Class with Prasad Shetty

On History

Excerpt from a lecture by Prasad Shetty to first year Architecture students at the School of Environment and Architecture (SEA).

Language: English / Hinglish.

This lecture is loaded with rhetoric that has been lost in simple transcription. The stress on words, pauses, and manner of utterances by the speaker are hard to press in written text, and thus the text below must not be understood at mere level of transcription.

Some portions of this excerpt have been edited to keep sense of the conversation.

--

Prasad: It is very important for you all to remember these terms in a broad chronological manner. You should know what is world history . . . what is the history of this world, what is the history of human beings?

                        You are human beings?

What is the evidence?

[that] You got 95% [marks]?

Nishi (student): The form structure

Prasad: But form structure toh woh bee hives bhi banaate hain…

             (But form structure is being made by the bees also as hives)

Nishi:     They are animals. We have an ability to think, we have a brain.

Prasad: Animals don’t think? What is the evidence? Gargi what is the evidence? (loudly) Proof kya hai ki tum insaan ho? What is the proof that you are a human being?

                        You have any proof? (softly)You have to think so much? That you are a human being?

A student murmurs: Aadhaar card

Prasad: What what? Kai-kai-kai? (what what what?)

Aadhaar card?

(laughter in class)

Prasad: No he is right, he is right, No this is right actually - this is very important.  We have so many cards – driving licence, aadhaar card, PAN Card, Ration Card, Pass port, Debit Card … thousand … voting card, visiting card... There are so many things that we have na?

That is the evidence that we are human beings?

Maitreyee’s your dog doesn’t have a visiting card? Uske pas aadhaar card hai? Why don’t you get aadhaar card for your dog? Why don't you get? Why?

Uska passport hai? (Does he have a passport?) Have you traveled with him?Usko passport lagta hai? (Does he require a passport?)  Have you traveled with him or her? Has anyone traveled with a dog or cat abroad? Usko lagta hai? Passport lagta hai?

Aditya (Student): They need a registration with the BMC [Bombay Municipal Corporation].

Prasad: BMC ka registration kya hai? Haan? BMC ka kya hai?

Students: They are given a licence.

Prasad: So pets are given or you all are given?

Student: We are given on their behalf.

Prasad: You are given that you can have a pet?

You are given so that they know that the animal is not a stray dog or a cat.

Achha, so it cannot be picked up and killed, or fed to some crocodile…

Okay

So one of the things is to kind of have an overview or have a world view so to say…

…

But as human beings you have a certain history. One of the agendas is to be familiar with that history.

                …

The second agenda is to introduce and familiarize you guys with certain concepts, terms, ideas with which you can handle your histories. You can think through you history. History itself is an idea. Writing of history is also an idea. There are many ways of writing history. . . So how do you handle your past and future? How do you handle it? How do you handle? You need to handle na? You don’t have to handle? Do you have to handle or no? You’ll are burdened – you are coming with 5000 years of history and probably you will remain for the next 5000 years, as human beings. So how do you handle it? So what is the gear that you wear, what are the gloves that you wear, what are the spects that you wear, what are the tools you need to have. How do you handle this past and the present?

Woh toh material hai! (But that is material) To go through anything, you need some tools, you need some tools for anything, to handle anything, you need some tools right? We will introduce you to certain ideas, certain concepts, approaches, by which you will be able to approach at least, how do you handle your past future and how do you kind of deal with? Nahi toh everything is about Shivaji in history… (referring to the typical schooling in social sciences in India)

---

(round bracketed English translations are mine)
[square brackets, additions are mine to sharpen the spoken rhetoric]

Memory and Architecture

Mera Kuch Saamaan

Ijaazat (1987)

Music Director: RD Burman

Singer: Asha Bhosle

Lyricist: Gulzar

Mera Kuch Saamaan Tumhare Paas Pada Hai -2

Saavan Ke Kuch Bheege Bheege Din Rakhe Hain

Aur Mere Ik Khat Main Lipti Raat Padi Hai

Vo Raat Bujhaa Do, Mera Vo Saamaan Lauta Do - 2

Mera Kuch Saamaan Tumhaare Paas Pada Hai - 2

Patjhad Hai Kcuh ... Hai Na ?

Patjhad Mein Kuch Patton Ke Girne Kee Aahat

Kaanon Mein Ek Baar Pahan Ke Laut Aai Thee

Patjhad Kee Vo Saakh Abhi Tak Kaanp Rahi Hai

Vo Shaakh Gira Do, Mera Vo Saamaan Lauta Do - 2

Ek Akeli Chhataree Main Jab Aadhe Aadhe Bheeg Rahe The - 2

Aadhe Sookhe Aadhe Geele, Sukha To Main Le Aaye Thee

Geela Man Shayad Bistar Ke Paas Pada Ho Vo Bhijwa Do,

Mera Vo Saamaan Lauta Do

Ek Sau Sola Chaand Ki Raatein Ek Tumhare Kaandhe Ka Til - 2

Geeli Mehendi Ki Khushboo, Jhooth Mooth Ke Shikwe Kuchh

Jhooth Mooth Ke Wade Bhi Sab Yaad Karaa Do; Sab Bhijwa Do,

Mera Vo Saamaan Lauta Do - 2

Ek Ijaazat De Do Bas, Jab Isako Dafanaaungee

Main Bhi Vaheen So Jaungee

Main Bhi Vaheen So Jaungee

---

English Translation

Some of my things (belongings), with you, are still kept,

Some damp, wet days of the monsoon lay,

And a night nestled in one of my letters...

Help me forget that night, return me my belongings.

Some autumn... isn't it?

In autumn of some leaves, the light sound of their fall,

Came back as my ears wore it at once,

Of autumn, the branch that is still shivering,

Let that branch fall, return me those of my belongings...

Under one umbrella, when we both were soaking partially,

Partially dry, partially wet – I had taken the dryness with myself,

Perhaps the wet mind that is still lying near the bed,

Send that (wetness) across, send across my belongings...

One hundred and sixteen moon nights and a mole on your shoulder,

The smell of the wet henna, and some cooked up false complaints,

Remind me all those false promises too, send them across

Return me my belongings...

Give me the permission when I shall bury all of this

And I myself will sleep there

And I myself will sleep there...

State of Mind

These days I don't like to write. Although I think of transcribing many things that I listen in discussion that people around me engage in. I keep wondering if they are just talking something much more important than what I have (if at all) got to say. I don't think I have anything to say any more.

When I ritualistically listen to the Bollywood songs on my headphone while traveling to and back from work, I pay attention to the space they create in my head, the composition, the meaning in the composition, and make evaluations in my head about their overall effect. 

I read excerpts of my masters thesis today. Inspite of my belief that there is something significant in that idea, I was disappointed in my writing. Very few have read it. I don't ask people to read it, and yet I want it to be discussed. Who will read it, critique it, help me make it more meaningful?

I am still not able to find place in this place. This place, that is the city, the home, the new school - that which I thought to be mine. Where do  I belong? And if not here, where do I go? In this spirit, I gathered courage to talk to my parents of finding a new place, failing to receive any encouragement. 

I don't connect to anyone, I am disconnected to myself. My ideas remain in my head, they bloom and burst in my own mind - because I feel they are insignificant as compared to the ideas my peers are producing. I doubt the intangibility of ideas. What do ideas really do anyway? Where have they taken me - am I not back to pavilion? 

That day I sang for the students and felt empty. My songs were empty. As if they came from a voice outside of me. They did not transform me in any way. The students yet appreciated!

What is this state of mind? Am I experience another culture shock? And I just realized that the whole post is dotted with 'dont's'. Quite opposite to what the positivist America should have done to me. Although, it will take time, may be to realign and re establish.

Escalator / Borivali

I cross over the footbridge from Borivali East to West, where the staircase that takes me up has recently been modernized into an escalator. Watching that piece of machine in a public space like the railway station of Mumbai is pure entertainment. People of all kinds in the city - young, old, infants, men, women, villagers, migrants, rich, poor are subject to this new animated object that takes them up. Every morning I see different encounters of such cross section of people with this machinic animal. Women in saris pull them high to avoid their flowing ends to get into the complicated machinery, villagers look astonished and puzzled about when to step into the moving platform, they wait for others to hold hands and give them the confidence and assurance that the machine wouldn't overpower them, or many are confused where to keep the hands once on the moving treads - finally holding the shoulders of strangers standing besides them... It is pure joy to look at such first experiences with technology. Does this not become art in public space - if one considers the pure function of art to amuse people in a way that they find their own selves?

Repetitions

Constructs of Silence

Finding your narrative to suit multiple people at the same time can sometimes jam you! What do I mean  by this?

Most of the times, when we try to be diplomatic, when talking around people having different opinions about a particular thing at hand, we search a way to speak so as to keep the interests of all parties engaged and involved with the "thing at hand". Constructing this narrative of diplomacy (or the diplomatic narrative) is a skill. In this construction - essentially a forced process - where you are constantly telling your mind what NOT to say, rather than what to say, dialogue delivery is an act of elimination. After leaving the words that you have to avoid, your speech is a piece of script that assumes a meaning that is meaningless for what you originally intended to convey. In other cases, the immense openness of this disfigured speech is back interpreted in ways that are not known to you, and become evident only when they result into something tangible - an output of an action that manifests into the physical world. 

I suck at diplomacy. And when I am direct, I am too harsh - to the extent that I may sound extremely proudy, or ignorant of others' choices. I snap quickly when I try to be too diplomatic. That is the reason why I keep my ideas to myself, and bring it out on this blog. Writing helps me to release my inner frustration. I talk more here, because I am turned to silence far too many times because of the realization that I am constantly being labelled as a conceited person, that often comes out through my strong opinions. This blog absorbs my ego, it sucks my frustration. I dont know what people make of what is being written here.

To some extent, I had become comfortable with being diplomatic in the US. I thought I would be able to carry it forward in my practice here. However, being diplomatic in India is much more difficult. This is so, because at any given time, you are necessarily dealing with far too many people, all with different streams of unorganized thought. The "unorganized" part is very important, because while talking, people dont stick to a single topic here. Instead, they talk more like Bollywood masala films - those that have a free reeling combination of drama, emotion, laughter, seriousness and such stuff, in essence a clubbing of contents from varied fields. Most people fail to realize the gravity of a topic of discussion, and stretch and smudge it into different directions. For example if someone is talking about the connectivity of places within the city through transport, several subsidiary and unimportant issues like pollution, sound, smoke, garbage and so on will find place in the narrative. And one would not know when and how a side topic becomes the centre stage of the conversation. In such a situation, one never knows how even one's diplomatic statement will unfold. The vulnerability that comes with this insecurity of how your statements will be construed and perceived crumbles me.

I am always worried about my how I am being perceived here - because more often than not, I fear that I am being misinterpreted in my actions, thoughts and words. And thus I bring it out in this space. I wonder if I am incomprehensible or people just assert their opinions onto others? In the race of being assertive, which I am told to be consistently by many by far, I start becoming defensive - because there is far too much to explain about my logic and therefore my way of looking at things. People are not interested in listening to it.

Finally, isn't much of what we are, actually what we talk? We constantly construct ourselves through our talk, the way we speak and say things in different situations. What when we are not able to talk out things? And what personality does silence construct?

An Inventory of Change

I landed back in my city, Mumbai, about two weeks ago after spending two long years in the United States. I longed for it in ways more than one. Whenever someone would ask me what I missed about this place, I could only answer that I missed all the chaos, dust, dirt, people and mess of the city. While one may assume these to be negative values, perhaps they had taken an altogether different meaning for me, which I was able to reconcile only once I was detached from it. It had helped me to understand my place more objectively.

Re-entering one's city altogether after two years can be a phenomenal experience. Especially when it is a place like Mumbai, that has been undergoing massive infrastructural transformation, the results can be sublime - stunning and depressing at the same time. As much as people indifferently muttered to me over long calls how "nothing had really changed" in two years, the city does have new stories to tell. The geography of Mumbai, as much as that of the personal space in my home, has evidently changed. The distances and districts people travel have altered. I too, now travel to the opposite end of the city for work. People have moved places of work and residence.

I have taken a long time to even begin to write this post, for I was conscious about understanding my land through the still-fresh lens of the Western world. Therefore, I took the first week in the city to meet people and listen to their narratives, of how has the city transpired into people's lives and what has passed in the last two years. How has it affected the people I once used to stitch a sense of the city through? A mixed sense of apprehension and excitement began as soon as I had finally booked my tickets. Suddenly, all imaginations of change were soon going to become real! While many cautioned me about the troubles of the system and the hardships I would be facing once I am back, I was still eager to experience once again all things that had possibly made my life meaningful!

The feeling of the East, as compared to the West brushed on me as I landed on the Abu Dhabi Airport. While I shall not deem to elaborate upon the suffocating domed chamber of the airport, the gates through which I was to take the last flight in my long journey pleasantly irritated me. As I took position in the queue to board the Mumbai flight, I heard whispers of aging Maharashtrian parents worried of finding their way from the Mumbai Airport, they tried to make connections with others in the same flight assuring assistance. Others from the worker classes were generally confused and insecure about boarding the flight. They constantly tried to disregard the queue and barged places on the baggage checking machine belts to get their clearances early. Pushes and shouts, disapproval and disappointments, shouts and calls, sweat and waits - all had begun to preface my entry into the East.

Yet, the entry to Mumbai wasn't as worse. Mumbai had to itself a newly constructed international airport, that was the talk of not only the town, but also overseas. The airport looked stunning, and until I stepped out, I still felt being in the US - with all the glamour and glitz of the new terminal, quickly passing through the art works of artists I once attended sessions and shows of, I finally arrived in Mumbai when a new morning was yet to dawn.

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A ready and expected announcement of Mumbai on your face is its multifoldedness. As I began to explore new friends and places that had shifted neighbourhoods, I realized how repeatedly I cut across the formal and informal environments to reach to a space that hybridly fit into an altogether hidden location. I experienced this in a gleeful visit to my new neighbour Arjun Sharma's house in Gokuldham, as well as the new School of Architecture (SEA) in Borivali, where I am now working. The approach to both these places is characterized by a landscape of tall buildings and ad hoc settlements.

Coming from a consistent formal landscape of cars and individuality, Mumbai throws you into life and activity - that which is far too close to one's body inculcating an immediate tendency to protect oneself - both physically and mentally. All spaces leak into and influence each other without permission, an aspect that has become more apparent after my cross cultural encounter. However, the speed of activities is slow, where you can actually see multiple things happening, not in a linear, or cyclic pattern, but all that the same time. I look at the roads where heavy trucks and buses, cars and rickshaws, bikes and cycles along with pedestrians and animals cross each other together at the same time. They look like a galaxy of objects suspended in space moving towards each other. 

As I met up friends after long years at the nearby Oberoi Mall in Goregaon, I realized that the building had only densified with more shops flourishing within the smallest of crevices within. In the food court crowded with people, I saw how the donut vendors, from whom we ordered a set of 6 selected sweets, handled multiple people with great ease. While he took the order from one, he took the items out for the other and pressed the button to print the bill for the third. There was no room to lose any time, passenger or money. And while he did all of this, he introduced his stuff to another recently arrived customer.

Prices of all things possible had changed - almost equalling the rates of those in the US. The train fares had changed from those being correspondingly incremental to your journey within the city, to slabs of Rs. 5, 10 or 15. I was never able to look closely to the revised fare-charts. The rate boards generally installed over the ticketing counters were all brutally torn and removed. They looked ugly. The stations themselves had been initiated into a mega transformation - those beginning to get covered in  tin vaults resting on steel structures, covering up a massive area underneath - that was once occupied by numerous stalls and enterprises now removed for purposes of expansion of the railway premises.

The scale of change reminded me of the large basilicas and churches I had freshly seen back in the West. The station at Andheri specifically baffled me, making me feel like a dwarf in its large floating belly. I was also quite surprised to look at the installation of escalators on the stations taking the passengers upstairs to the cross over bridges, almost adjoining the traditional steel staircases. They, without a doubt created awkward corners and pockets in their crooked alignments. I have always remained fascinated in this aspect of misalignments of any new additions or alterations that the public infrastructural projects in the city takes onto itself. Sharp edges, open ends suggesting continuation, as if inviting for another thingly member to join hands and extend itself remain one of the features of the procedures of misalignment and extensions.

An altogether new station has come up between Goregaon and Jogeshwari - called Oshiwara! Although it has still not been inaugurated, much work has been accomplished. While one can debate if two years, and the time it was being planned since ahead, is justifiable for a station of that scale to become operative, the physical semblance of the project on ground already makes the geography and experience of movement along that axis different.

Things which appeared to be quite simple in the US to execute or even learn seem to be a farfetched or even non existent process here. The city still presented an interesting mix of traditional and modern, in the way information is shared and kept from people who have continued to productively misuse and operate within the lack of availability of information. I had to visit the bank to merely ask if my account had turned inactive for not using it at all for the last two years. The bank had installed a new machine where account holders could automatically get their pass books updated. My brother explained to me his initial errors in inserting the wrong face of the passbook, fretting over the machine's lack of instructions, which he eventually figured out. Yet, when he encountered a failure of the registry of his card in the adjoining ATM of the same bank, he went back to check about error. The bank had no solution to his problem. When he asked if he could cancel the card, the bank had no set form, no information, in other words, no redressal system. An information that I could have easily checked online, became an affair of almost 2 hours of traveling 3 kilometers going to the bank and getting back to home.

I have not yet had the chance to travel through the Metro, which is supposed to have convenienced a lot of east-west traffic. But I did cut across the whole city driving through the Bandra-Worli Sea link late in the evening. The journey presented to me a city that had lit up quite differently than before. It revealed to me towers that were  yet waiting to surpass the tallest buildings I had once seen there. And several new projects were ready to be filled up with human life. Cranes and pulleys animated the night, and shouted at me the dream of the city. However, people were still endearing, always available for help. In the company of laughter and friends in the car, we approached our destination in the far end of the city, asking for directions to the people on the streets. And when we were lost even after feeding the address into the freshly 3G internet enabled Google Maps on the phone, our rescue remained a common friend who was just a phone call away who custom-explained the directions along with the landmarks and estimated time we would take to arrive our destination!


(The images for this post shall be posted later)