a long day in three parts

part one

the kamla raheja gold medal - the reprisal. the change of the rules last year meant that we had to hold the award again for all who felt wronged because of the ‘extra time’ that some of the other students got for their work. and as is usual with this class it started out controversially and ended controversially. first there was the entire fiasco of a student ( and her rather vociferous father) feeling wronged by the school for not automatically giving her the gold medal because she had already been cited earlier. we were actually sympathetic to her until a point until we realized that she had called up a juror the previous night and had complained. after that all sympathy vanished.

the jurors were kamu iyer, pinkesh shah, vandana ranjitsingh and anant raje from ahmedabad. the work was generally of a very mediocre standard except for a few students (or at least so i thought) the comments as was to be expected were largely based on architectonic issues and regarding the perhaps too ambitious complexity of the projects chosen. i am still not convinced- but i understand what they are saying.

at the end there was a big debate around whether the gold medal should be given at all or should we settle for 3 citations. the discussion was to continue over dinner. the result is today.

rajiv's apartment complex

khyatee's controversial opera house project

nimit's madhavbaug thesis

ateya's library

ateya's museum of sciences

part two

sea view with four generations of krvia. sonal, niket, rachna, kausik, mohua, shekhar, ninad, ateya, saurabh, me and sachin. a gorgeous sky.

rachna, kausik, mohua

mohua, shekhar

ninad, ateya, saurabh

sonal shah, niket

sachin bhoite

sunset

part three

at the airport to pick mukul coming back from chennai with saurabh. we bumped into vandana and raje waiting for rajes wife to arrive, and rahul mehrotra.

dinner at cascade, thakur complex.

mukul and saurabh at cascade

garbage day

piles of garbage

the dump over the creek

looking towards the city

the heat is killing us right now. where in the world is the monsoon? and it was much worse in the sun as we trudged through the gorai garbage dump right on the edge of borivali where the entire western suburbs send their rubbish. the fourth year were subjected to this on the first day of their year. it did not smell as bad as i thought it would. the garbage was piled up at least 6 stories high though- right on the mangrove coast as it leeched into the creek. more land being created for the rahejas to develop.

afterwards we took the ferry across to esselworld to see some water treatment systems that they had developed and some vermiculture area. amusement parks are such strange beings. i remember the area where the monstrous park now stands as being completely mangroves and low lying marshes. today it is a forest with fully grown trees and all kinds of torture machines and fanciful plaster of paris attemts to create alternative universes- the most weird being the skating rink in the middle of summer.. such a radical transformation. i love the surrealism of it all .

now vipassana is building a huge golden pagoda in the vicinity of esselworld and water kingdom- another kind of amusement park i guess.. another place where you torture yourself to make yourself feel more alive… (sorry mukul.. i know, i know.. i have to try it before i trash it)

and all the while we spent time meditating over waste

tha garbage dump looms over the mangroves

sneha, shilpa, ainsley in the background, richa and ruchita in the foreground


the pirates of the seperation

holy crap

bahaar at her office

two buildings i love

kanchanjunga

from bahaars office after college to discuss the competition she has in mind, and the new idea of the design cell, i could see kanchanjunga from the window. i love that building. correa’s best-i think. maybe i am just biased because i live in a place designed by him.

another building i love is the richardson and cruddas building just after the jj flyover. an industrial shed- i love the layered metal façade with the larger than life typography. i clicked these snaps from a moving car as mukul, suresh the sound recordist and me drove back from the more 'picturesque' (inner city, mill lands, industrial housing, early suburbs, dharavi, bandra kurla complex) alternative route - back home.

richardson and cruddas (1972)

bedside tables on the highway

more devastation on the highway- this time in malad. i find the sight of families picking through the ruins looking for belongings traumatising. the half eaten houses with doors that once led into bedrooms now open over the highway.

this collision of the extremely private and the public is extremely disturbing. .

decapitated cow in a truck

saurabh and me were momentarily taken aback when we saw this head of a cow popping out of a truck in front of us on the link road. it took a moment before we realised it was made of plaster of paris.

competitions, board games, birthday lunch

amit and saurabh in intense discussion about the landmark project.

the competitive spirit seems to have invaded the office due to a serious depletion in work. most projects seem to be finishing right now, including the udri projects. have to look for more work seriously. meanwhile- there is the town landmark competition that saurabh, amit and me are working on and also the bhopal gas tragedy memorial competition that we have begun discussing.

meanwhile in college the third year truly can inspire the faculty. they are enthusiastic and energetic. in today'’s discussion the idea of a game as the structure for the presentation of their work on vasai fort came up, it might be perfect for the contradictory, complicated storylines that emerged during the study. like a game of ‘snakes and ladders or ‘ludo’- or maybe a treasure hunt’ for the ‘truth… sounds like it will be fun.. but they might not have enough time to make the game… dekhte hain..

it was amisha'’s birthday today and paul, kausik, amisha and me went out for lunch to mahesh lunch home at juhu. appam, prawns, rawas and caramel custard.


saurabh the swan

a painting in the office- courtesy saurabh

saurabh the completely adorable sweetheart gave the office a painting that he had made especially for the reception area. its magical, mad, beautiful.. i am sure in it there are many snide references to my idiosyncracies- but then that is to be expected considering his particularly nasty sense of humour. i love the painting. thanks sau..

joanna

today we had a lovely guest over in the evening. mary came over with the gorgeous joanna. was great to have them over after such a long time. would have been nice if john had come too.

the motorcycle diaries

road movies.. journeys into landscapes alone or with a friend.. life changing experiences they are presented as. i took a road (or rather rail) trip when i took a train all across the states after i finished my architecture in the states. one month in a train from washington to boston to seattle to los angeles to new orleans and miami to savannah and dc again..how did my life change exactly- i don’t know.. but there definitely was something that shifted. a new way in which i perhaps saw myself with respect to the people i knew and loved. was it that trip in an amtrak train that nudged me to take the decision to come back to india? i don’t know. perhaps..

i remember being completely lost and confused before the trip and much more at peace at the end. it was a strange time for me. i had made many friends whom i loved dearly in the states. my two years there had been a lot of fun thanks to mani, shamik, rohit, fau, mahua, liji, shankar.. but, something was still missing- and i’d like to think it was not the cliched longing for ‘roots’ that i disparage so much.. but maybe i cant deny it..

i kept a journal during the trip much like che guevara does in ‘the motorcycle diaries’.. when i got back i discovered that shyam my close friend was going to the states and i compiled it as a gift to him.. i still have a copy somewhere. 'snapshots' i called it.

coming back to india was a shock in the beginning- what was i thinking? that is until i started teaching and got a job with dhiru. somehow things fell into place slowly and seem slowly falling still, like leaves from a tree- or more like pieces in a jigsaw.. how come in retrospect everything seems like it has a predetermined meaning is beyond me..

‘the motorcycle diaries’ also ties up all the fragments of a journey neatly into a linear narrative- from che and his friend beginning his journey for a journeys sake, learning of the travails of the working class across the continent, to being inspired to ‘do something’ about it.

perhaps this arc is too simple and clear cut- the characterization too flat and the answer too pat- especially when it comes to coming face to face with the impoverishment and suffering of the locals, for me, the movie used too many hackneyed tools.. black and white images, stares into camera, hollowed out faces- the kind of images that we like to feel bad about so that we can feel good with our politically correct liberalism. still the movie worked for me perhaps because i understand the way in which sometimes we feel the need to explain and rationalize our actions. it was lovely looking and guevara was made out to be the classic romantic hero- determined, honest, so 'pure' he seemed unreal..

but that merely might be the danger of working with material with so much baggage.. the heaviest being the aura of the real guevara immortalized on so many t-shirts – he is almost the ‘nike’ logo of the left.. almost no one knows what he represents anymore except a general sense of revolutionary fervor and a martyrdom which is somehow vaguely attractive. more than anything i think his image (even more than him) has come to symbolize a mixture of youth, idealism and a generic revolutionary anger- an entire approach to the world which has been appropriated ad nauseum by anyone who sees themselves as having any of the above qualities.

is this movie then just another che guevara t-shirt? but instead of the stark print it is painted in lush landscapes in wide screen with a che as beautiful as anyone could conjure.. delicate and soulful. i guess so.. but can i help it if i still want to buy the t-shirt and watch the movie..

sunday meeting

ninad, deepali, sharmishta, pallavi and kaiwan at the meeting


the school of architecture with kaifi azmi udyan nearby from the school building

home at last, home at last.. after an annual feel good session for the college management.. many elderly gentlemen spoke at great length on many pertinent issues, much wisdom was received from the mouths of these veterans through circuitous meandering down many memory lanes littered with anecdotes and parables.. about the value of yoga, ..amazing ‘indian culture’- unity in diversity, college students wearing uniforms, the teachings of shakhas and parivars, ‘ethical’ values.. and in the audience - among women teachers in their neatly starched saris and gajras.. men in terrycot plaid shirts and tailored pleated trousers tightly belted, moustached.. and us.

the above post has been expunged of all potentially offensive comments on a sugesstion from my dear friend mukul.

concert photos

poster outside auditorium,, note the typically pert marathi note towards the center.. 'karyakram tharavlya veli suru houn tharavlya veli sampel'.. the program will start a the given time nad end at the given time..


madhavi mami, sushma and rahul at the concert


the concert from outside the hall

thane concert

mom on vocals, joshi on tabla, wagal on harmonium.. sonal on tanpura

its been a long time (one and half year is what my mother tells me) since my mom performed live for an audience. yesterdays concert at thane was in a hall on the first floor of a community center. the road to thane from borivili is lovely in the evenings- ghodbunder road twists and turns in between the hills to the south and vasai creek to the north.. we got there two hours before the programme.. and did not get lost in the lanes of thane. thane is a strange place.. somewhere in between bombay and pune.. or so it feels.. the dahi misal that we had on the street corner to kill time, i was told by joshi- the tabla player, was exactly the kind you get in pune..

the hall itself was painted blue with chatais on the floor- tubelit, the audience largely marathi men and women out for their monthly dose of hindustani classical music.

the concert went off all right with the highlight i think being raag kedar which she started off the performance with. i am not sure that her begum akhtar ghazal or the thumri went down well with that particular bunch of people, but her bhairavi at the end was very good... sonal meanwhile decided to be decorative in the background- looking lovely in red doing her shy number refusing to sing even though when she did her voice soundedbeautiful on the microphone.. silly girl.- now if i had any talent i’d be preening like a rock star.

sonal on the blue chatais before the programme

the directors lounge

pauls brand new directors lounge being used for the first time.. by tatke sir, paul and me discussing thesis.. the books on the shelves are the college publications and the door that you see through the window leads to the office.

i believe in bruce springsteen

i believe in bruce springsteen.

i believe in his sadness and his perpetual hope.. his evangelical faith in the flesh and blood of the common man.. .. i believe he speaks for all us who lie lurking in the darkness on the edge of town.. migrants, marginalised, outsiders. his belief in our capability to experience joy and happiness in spite of all that stands in our way. i wept as he raised his hands in spiritual fervor issuing sermons in celebration of earthly pleasures and cosmic revelations and connections. i believe in his landscapes.. his metaphors.. dusty, abandoned roads, rivers that we must cross or follow, abandoned shells of cars.. the promise of the promised land.. and love.. real tangible love.. stained, torn at the edges.. negotiated but truly and tangibly felt..

i had become wary of his utopianism for a while now thinking it too full blooded, cliche ridden, ambiguous and formulaic, until today ‘thunder road’ brought back that dreamscape of desperate love and longing, and of that desire to fly wild on the streets- free... on thunder road..

uncanny resemblance

with reference to the debate in between sonal and mukul..
see here armaan depp / johhny suri

the meaning of my name

Rohan climbing or ascending something, developing, increasing
Shivkumar son of Lord Shiva (Ganesh, Kartikeya) ( Shivanandan )

hmmm...

aside from the evening sky

still waiting for the rains as the days seem to get hotter and hotter.. here is the evening sky over the crazy zigzag borivili flyover.. quite spectacular.

college has begun and the third year is madly energetic- such a change after last years class. they are sharp, fun to be around, enthusiastic.. hopefully they are able to sustain this energy till the end of the project. It can get rather stressful later..

at work amit and me are working on a plan for bahaar’s cousin arshiya’s new workshop at worli. a very tight space and almost everything has to fit inside it. amit and saurabh are also working on the ‘landmark’ project which is interesting but difficult to resolve. shall post it in this space when it takes shape.

also…

bought a camera phone for sonal yesterday at irla, measure drew hemant mamas bathroom and have a few options for it..rahul srivastava was in college today and gave a talk to the third year on his neighbourhood project..

hmmm…. i have also not been able to blog for the past few days because my net was not working… (mukul: “if your net is not working, how can you catch butterflies?”) … so here i am connected again catching butterflies..

sunday with nallahs

sunday in the sun. saurabh, namrata, amit and me clicking photographs of nallahs around the city. these terribly disused waterways that start off in the mountains in national park, lead down through all kinds of areas- middle class neighborhoods, industrial areas, slums until they disappear into the mangroves where the city meets the sea.

the trip started out in dahisar where namrata promptly stepped on freshly laid shit. then we followed that nallah (or river- as it once was known) to where it entered national park below flyovers and past slums. then for more we went to bandra kurla complex, irla and vakola followed by lunch at ‘papillion’.. would you believe i saw ‘kung fu hustle’ again.. this time at ‘the hub’ on the highway. still as entertaining the second time around.. i got more of the film references.. and drove back practicing the buddhist palm technique on the streering wheel.

pizza for dinner ended the day while watching aishwarya rai simper away on the oprah winfrey show where oprah taught american women that norwegians eat lambs testicles and indian women have spiritual sex. terrific, no?

dahisar river- past the slums, belching industries

dahisar river- under the flyover, beside the tracks

dahisar river- near the temple, past the apartments

dahisar river- into the mangroves

finding neverland

recently whats it with the oscars and biopics? ‘ray’, ‘the avaiator’, ‘finding neverland’.. this is a new phenomenon- a tendency to adore icons of american pop culture and make them out to be heroes who struggled against all odds to succeed. besides of course crying out loud to be taking seriously as ‘culture’ they seem to represent the ‘american way of life’ as it is meant to be perceived.

with absolutely no sentimental affection or information (besides the terrible film ‘hook’) for the legend of Peter Pan– a staple for someone young growing up in the states, i really could not care less for the story of the writer- j m barrie. still i sat through the entire story- from the failure of the first play, to the marital problems, to the relationship with the dispossessed widow and her four sons which inspired the play, until the death scene where kate winslet enters ‘neverland’. its all rather sumptuous- glowing colours, inspirational music, teary eyed farewells, screaming ‘oscar me! please!’

it would seem that the real story of not only the writer but even his play was far less airbrushed than that. he was accused of pedophilia many times and shared a strange sexless relationship with his wife- its no coincidence then that michael jackson has also played peter pan in a film. it must be urge to never grow up by ‘just believing’ so that he can continue sleeping in the same bed with kids to keep them warm. i am sure nothing dirty ever took place.. honestly.

vasai fort - the ruins and the writing of histories

churches

first day of the new third year design studio.. ‘rashomon’ first to "problematize the writing of history"- using pauls language... and then a trip to the site- vasai fort. pinkesh, dhanashree, namrata, kaiwan and me – in my car. met ganesh there.

the kids arrived later in small packs and wandered around the overgrown ruins climbing walls, discovering new routes and puzzling over the site. it was hot as hell and i was feeling a little sorry for them- but then one must be willing to sweat in the pursuit of greater knowledge. no?

the fort is merely a shell of what probably existed- and from the elaborate churches whose remains that seemed everywhere it seemed that it must have been a lot. today the spaces in between the stone walls are completely overgrown and are used to mend fishing nets and as a short cut to the village. the fort is derelict, empty and is used sometimes for shooting songs in films ( urmila matondkar and fardeen khan- kambakth ishq hai woh…)

vasai fishing village that existed on the stretch of land in between the fort walls and the sea was tiny, but seemed pretty well off. small rcc buildings, temples, churches..

we met a group of tourists from chennai in one fo the churches, who, trusting their guide book to bombay took a day trip out of the city to see the fort. the poor guys were sorely disappointed that it had none of the grandeur that they were expecting.

it is strange to imagine that this was the first city of bombay controlling all the portuguese holdings on the coast all the way to sion (and more) so much has changed.. let see what the students say.. i am sure some of them might stumble upon this page on their net searches—so ‘hi guys’ too!

fish

agiary walk

on the last day before college starts i spent a muggy afternoon walking the streets of south mumbai with rashne clicking photographs of the agiaries and the atash behrams of the city. the agiary and the atash behram for all of you who dont know are the places of worship for the parsis where the sacred fire burns. i was not allowed into the compounds naturally as i would be a pollutant to the space. i spent time hanging around ouside on the street, clicking facades and details. rashne being a parsi went in for the interiors. interesting buildings these- often walled islands in the middle of the city. here are some photos..


agiaries near princess street

agiaries in the fort area