Tag: photographs

Indian Ink

Growing up in a newly liberalised India, I watched a lot of American sitcoms. Most shows were reruns of old seasons. The exception being the last season of Friends which aired only a day after the US release. It was through these shows that I learned to associate tattoos with a certain persona. And that persona was not remotely Indian or tribal.

It was only after I left the bubble of the community in which I grew up, that I learnt how tattoos were commonplace in rural areas of the country—especially family names and religious symbols like ॐ (aum). But it wasn’t as glamorous as the tattoos I saw on foreigners.

A few years ago, I learned about the Māori practice of Tā moko through a wonderful (and particularly rage-inducing) podcast titled Stuff the British Stole. Tā moko tattoos looked beautiful. That they held deep meaning and weren’t just superficial marks to look cool, made them even more majestic. No wonder the tattoo artist was considered sacred.

It’s funny how I was more aware of tattoo practices outside India than our own. Fortunately, that changed recently, during the India Art, Architecture and Design Biennale 2023.

Much like the Polynesian countries where tattooing different parts of the body holds meaning, tribes in central India too ink themselves with meaningful patterns and motifs.

Godna: Digging into Tradition

Godna is popular in tribal societies, particularly in the areas of Rajanandgaon and Surguja, Chattisgarh, Dindori, Madhya Pradesh and Madhubani in the Mithila region of Bihar.

My investigation into Godna led me to this short film by Shivam Vichare that shows the materials and motifs popularly used in the Baiga tribe in Dindori.

Using kajal (soot collected by burning herbal oil) and needles, ladies mark their bodies at various stages of life. Girls from the community must have their foreheads tattooed as preteens to be accepted into the tribe. Tattoos on the chest are made post marriage and childbirth.

Mangala Devi explains the meaning of some of the motifs—a form of prayer for the individual and family’s wellbeing. One pattern for the chest represents the beehive. Just as the beehive is dripping with honey, so may the home be full of nectar. Diyas on the knees signify light in their lives. And the bull’s eye is for the wellbeing of the cattle, so that they may plough the fields.

Like the Baiga Tribe, the Bharia, Bhil, Gond, Kol and Korku tribes hail from central India—home to some of the world’s oldest prehistoric cave paintings.

Many of the motifs used in Godna and other folk art are elements from nature. Expressed in simple line art, these symbols were created by the earliest graphic designers.

On display at the Biennale were some patterns from the collection of Indira Gandhi Rashtriya Manav Sangrahalaya (also referred to as the National Museum of Humankind, or Museum of Man and Culture) in Bhopal.

I don’t fancy myself ever having the courage to get permanently inked, but these patterns are beautiful and definitely worth ogling over. Enjoy!

Tags art, baiga, Deshaj, design in India, drawing, gallery, graphic design, history, iaadb23, India Art Architecture and Design Biennale 2023, painting, photographs, tattoo, tattoo design, tribal art

Stories

Studio Perfect

Somaya Sampat Studio

Packaging cartons collapsed into sheets line the lofts in our apartment—set aside for that dreaded day when we’ll eventually have to move out. Little nooks and corners stare at me. Some of the empty spaces immediately scream at us, “Look at how much space is wasted!”

Living in a rented apartment, we have little control over what modifications we can make. Certainly, with the way rents are rising, we wouldn’t spend our money revamping someone else’s home! But that doesn’t stop us from dreaming.

We snap pictures of ideas we like and save Instagram posts related to sustainable home improvement. Whether we’ll ever use them is anybody’s guess!

The Samatva pavilion at the India Art Architecture and Design Biennale 2023 was one such inspirational visual feast. On the outside, the pavilion was a stony medieval building. The entrances to the rooms within seemed to have been renovated in colonial-style arched doorways. But the exhibits within had a warm, welcoming feel.

Of the entire exhibition, spanning 7 pavilions, Samatva was the one that was the most intentionally designed, explaining to the layperson what the terms mean.

Site: an area of ground on which a building is constructed, historically occupied by male architects, contractors, workers, etc. but women have neem challenging this status quo.

“This side has day care facilities along with housing for construction workers.”

Studio: a space where an architect, artist, designer, etc. works, and that is often found in a state of disarray but always creatively stimulating.

“Our studio always smells of coffee and fresh ideas!”

And yes, of course, there was a map!

Binding all the exhibits was a common design element—the red dot.

We saw aesthetically set up studio spaces with glimpses of architectural work-in-progress. Intentionally messy, but true to their word, stimulating.

Below are some pictures we saved for later.

Hopefully, one day we’ll have a space we can call our own—when we can finally free up some loft space and get rid of those packaging cartons. A time when we can drill nails into the walls and put up all our artwork (and the two guitars we now have).

Will we find these pictures when we need them? Only time will tell!

Tags architecture, art, design, desk, gallery, iaadb23, India Art Architecture and Design Biennale 2023, inspiration, interior design, photographs, studio, workspace

Stories

Space Matters

3D architectural site plan as a wall display from Somaya Sampat's Studio

For the past few years we’ve been looking to buy a home, and we’ve looked at numerous fancy flyers by builders. But nothing has ever caught our imagination. Year after year, all we’ve seen are towers of concrete, embellished with heat-trapping glass. These so-called modern constructions conveniently ignore the realities of climate change. The prospective home buyers are effectively going to live in ovens, necessitating the use of air conditioning, further compounding the problem.

We love open, airy spaces with ample natural light, and yet, these townships pack houses like sardines. Projects these days claim to include rainwater harvesting, just to hop on the green bandwagon. But few even venture close to recycling grey water from kitchen sinks. With every house invariably keeping RO water purifiers, it makes sense to collect the waste water from these appliances for sanitation use. There is also immense opportunity to use rooftops for solar energy. None of these ideas are earth-shattering. Indeed, many of them have been implemented in other parts of the country. But the big builders of Delhi-NCR seem to lack inspiration to truly innovate.

If only they’d hired (or taken inspiration from) the architects of the calibre featured in the Samatva pavilion of IAADB23.

The Sustainable Eco-Literate Architect

Revathi Kamath’s treatise on the sustainable eco-literate architect.

The pioneer of mud architecture, Revathi Kamath wrote in her treatise on the sustainable eco-literate architect:

The architectural mind needs to be aware of the mathematics of complexity and geometries of nature—Mandelbrot sets, Julia sets, Berkhoff’s bagel, Koch curves, Buddhist and Hindu Mandalas—the list is constantly growing. The immense beauty that is latent in the use of these conceptual tools needs to be appreciated and replace the simplistic dogmas of the “cleanlineists,” the functional packaging of commercial space in boxes, the squares and rectangles on Vaastu and Feng-Shui pandits, layouts of military camps and cantonments, imperial palaces, administrative centres and corporate parks.”

Humanity must seek inspiration from nature and build to sustain, instead of merely using and dumping resources indiscriminately.

Take Kankana Narayan Dev, for example. Hailing from Assam, the architect takes inspiration from traditional, sustainable methods of construction in her work.

Furniture and building blocks that incorporate bamboo.

While Kankana works primarily with bamboo, Goa-based Tallulah D’Silva‘s material of choice is mud.

Tallulah D’Silva’s homestay that incorporates mud for construction

Sustainability wasn’t the only theme of Samatva. So was social inclusion and designing with empathy—something commercial builders could learn from.

One project that caught my eye was Sandhya Naidu Janardhan’s slum redevelopment work.

Building With Empathy

Sandhya Naidu Janardhan’s design process while working on slum redevelopment.

While on our home hunting spree, we visited dozens of construction sites. We sat in lavish sales offices, browsed through glossy brochures, walked inside heavily decorated sample flats and watched the brokers point at realistic scaled model of the buildings. The sheer amount of marketing glitter around these projects was mind-boggling.

But when you’re redeveloping a slum, it’s not as glamourous. You likely won’t have access to the kinds of resources the builders have. It would have been easy for Sandhya to have just drawn some cookie-cutter plans and got them approved without anyone batting an eyelid. But she chose to involve the community in her design process. The hallmark of a good designer is to understand the needs of the user—in this case, the people who would eventually live in the spaces she’d design.

Low fidelity models made with paper and wooden blocks.

By far my favourite exhibit was the small models made with paper and wooden blocks. Proof that one doesn’t need fancy photorealistic models to communicate a vision. What is needed, though, is the willingness to perform sound user research.

Would any big construction company ever care for their customers as much? We’re yet to find one that does.

The image at the top is a display from Somaya Sampat, formerly Somaya & Kalappa Consultants (SNK), at the Samatva Pavilion of IAADB23.

This post is a part of a long-ish series on the India Art, Architecture and Design Biennale 2023.

Tags architect, architecture, design, empathy, iaadb23, India Art Architecture and Design Biennale 2023, photographs, photography, sustainability

Stories

The Drum House

Entrance to the Red Fort, Shahjahanabad, Old Delhi, India.

If you’ve seen Hindi movies or plays set in the Mughal era, then you’ve heard that familiar refrain, “Azeem o Shaan Shehenshah…” An announcer describing the arrival of royalty.

At the Red Fort in Shahjahanabad (Old Delhi), musicians would make announcements from the Naubat Khana, or Naqqar Khana (Drum House), letting the public know that the Emperor or a royal dignitary had arrived.

Announcements were a tiny part of the musicians’ job description. The Mughals were great patrons of art, and musicians would perform five times a day at chosen hours.

As is apt for any hall that houses artists, the Naqqar Khana is elaborately decorated. Unlike Islamic architecture in other parts of the world where motifs are strictly geometrical, Mughal architecture heavily incorporated natural themes, particularly flowers, in addition to traditional calligraphy.

Here’s a closer look at the intricate details of the Naubat Khana at Red Fort.

The Naubat Khana or the Naqqar Khana inside the Red Fort, Old Delhi, India.

Tags architecture, art, Delhi, gallery, history, India, Indian Art, Indo-Islamic art, Mughal, photographs, Red Fort, travel

Stories

The Bazaar Under the Dome

Post author By Kasturika
Post date Saturday, 15 March, 2025
No Comments on The Bazaar Under the Dome

Chhatta Chowk, Red Fort, Old Delhi, India.

My only memories of the Red Fort are from school trips. And while India Gate, Qutub Minar and the Baha’i temple made quite an impression, I couldn’t quite remember anything about the Red Fort. Except that there was a very crowded market at the entrance that was a nightmare to get through.

So, when we learned that the India Art, Architecture and Design Biennale 2023 was held inside the Fort, I got excited. Finally, an excuse to fill in the memory gaps.

Turns out, there really wasn’t much to fill in!

Entrance to the Red Fort, Old Delhi, India.

The Fort looked plain, barren and empty. A mere shell, in comparison to the mighty and rich forts of Rajasthan. The only exciting part of the monument: the bazaar!

Called Chhatta chowk (translation: covered bazar), the 17th century market had the typical souvenir stalls. Glittering jewellery and carved statues, fridge magnets and stoles. Each shop full of shoppers examining the items with keen eyes.

As we moved closer towards one of the shops, a long line of school students crossed our path. Holding hands and forming a file to ensure no one gets lost. None of them was one bit interested in the wares.

As we waited for the students to cross, my thoughts went back to our school trip. It was boring and tedious for us, but it must have been a hundred times worse for our guardians—the teachers who accompanied us on those trips.

Originally posted on Instagram on 1 April 2024, this post is part of a series where I attempt to reverse social media—to reclaim my life from other platforms.

Tags architecture, bazaar, Chhatta Chowk, Delhi, Dilli Darshan, Fort, gallery, iaadb23, India, India Art Architecture and Design Biennale 2023, Medieval Market, photographs, Red Fort, Reverse Social Media, school trip, sightseeing

Stories

The Temple Voice

Close-up of the sculptures on the walls, Gwalior Fort Complex, Madhya Pradesh, India.

The elaborate sculptures adorning the temples in the Gwalior Fort are too many to count and too beautiful to describe. Many have been weathered by the strong wind. The many kings who fought, captured, and lost the Fort seem to have left the temples untouched.

That they have very strange names takes nothing away from their beauty. The “saas” is big, bod and stands proudly, imposing her might on anyone who dares think contrary to her wishes.

The “Saas” as seen from the “Bahu,” Gwalior Fort Complex, Madhya Pradesh, India.

The “bahu” stands at a distance, more towards the edge of a cliff and doesn’t care for attention.

The “Bahu” from the point of view of “Saas,” Gwalior Fort Complex, Madhya Pradesh, India.

Inside the large temple, one gets the feeling of being engulfed by Sahasrabahu, the one with a thousand hands—hands that are dancing, playing music, worshipping, meditating.

Who was the guardian deity of these temples? No one can tell for sure. There are conflicting tales about Shiva and Vishnu. Some claim that these are Jain temples.

Folklore says that the ruling king dedicated the large central structure to his mother, an ardent devotee of Lord Vishnu. The smaller temple was to pacify the king’s wife—a Shaivite.

Tourists take pictures, climb over the walls, and walk precariously along the beams that form the triangles overhead. But few venture close to the sanctum sanctorum.

Teli Ka Mandir, Gwalior Fort Complex, Madhya Pradesh, India.

A short distance away, the Teli ka Mandir stands tall. If the building could speak, I might have said, “I am Dravidian.” As I was imagining the walls speaking to me, a man hurried out from inside the temple, cursing under his breath. He looked livid and frantically looked around so he could vent his rage. When he found someone who looked like a caretaker, he let him have it.

“This is a temple! Why are people wearing shoes and trampling all over? Have you stepped inside? It reeks of bat filth.”

“Such a fine architectural monument and you are letting it go to waste. Is this the devotion this was built for?”

The man’s lament fell on deaf ears. The caretaker gave an indifferent glance. “It is no longer in use, sir,” he said, and walked away.

The sanctum sanctorum of all three magnificent temples were dark portals. Beauty graced all the walls outside and inside the halls leading to the small room meant to be the throne of the presiding deity.

If the walls could speak, they might have been as indifferent to our presence as the caretaker was to their plight. With their structure reduced to architectural candy, and the real purpose long given for bats to live in, there was no longer anything left to say.

Still salvaging old work from the archives, I discovered this story’s handwritten draft from May 2017. This too, is a part of the ebook The Speaking Rock. If the pictures are grainy, it’s because they’re from a phone camera from 2016.

I was both proud and awestruck by my phone camera’s prowess back then. It pales in comparison to what my phone can do now. And digital technology today still doesn’t match up to film camera clarity. But grainy footage notwithstanding, it reminds me of some wonderful memories we made almost nine years ago. Isn’t that what pictures are for?

Tags architecture, art, Gwalior, Gwalior Fort, history, India, medieval, photographs, saas bahu temple, sculpture, temples, travel

Stories

The House by the lake

As we scouted hotels near Lake Picchola, we were caught between conflicting traveller reviews—those that spoke of magical lake views, and others that complained of poor hygiene and stench. Considering that we were traveling to a city with lots of water, during monsoon, we decided to keep ourselves away from Lal Ghat.

We browsed through OYO rooms and zeroed in on the cryptic “OYO Homes 062 Fatehsagar Lake”. For reasons better known to OYO, the website does not provide the exact name of the hotel or the location without a confirmed booking!*

After confirming our booking, we looked for reviews of the property. There weren’t as many ratings of the house as compared to the other hotels, but all of them positive. Well, we would find out for ourselves.

Our flight landed in Udaipur half an hour before time; the air was cool, much cooler than the muggy national capital we had left behind; the scenic Aravalli range surrounded us throughout the drive to the city—a beautiful start to our trip.

Our talkative cabbie, Chetan, seemed to know a lot of touristy information on Udaipur—as did all the other rickshaw drivers we rode with. One would think they were all getting paid to promote tourism! None of them, however, had heard of Khudala House. So, we followed the map and gave directions. When we were near our destination, we caught sight of water for the first time—and what a beauty she was! As our eyes feasted on the beautifully blue Fateh Sagar Lake, growing ever wider in front of us, the GPS lady quietly said, “turn left, and you will arrive at your destination.”

Khudala House — You have reached your destination.

We hopped off our cab and walked around the driveway. The property may not have had a lake view, but it was royally beautiful. Walking to the right, we were greeted by a row of statues posing against a great green leafy wall.

Ahead of us was a neat lawn and dining tables surrounded by flowering plants and bonsais.

Waiting for diners

And behind the lawn was the grand entrance to the house.

Our host, Mr. Dhanajai Singh, later informed us that the house was built in 1941 by his grandfather. About 35 years ago, his father, and present owner Capt. Jaiveer Singh added more rooms. The majestic original structure has now been leased to the restaurant 1559AD.

We walked back to the front gate and towards the newer, smaller (relatively speaking, of course) building on left of the driveway. A loose curtain of painted bottles and a stone wall decorated with divine statues marked the division between the old and new.

Here too, the visual delight continued. A beautiful lawn outlined by balsams in full bloom and surrounded by dozens of bonsais.

Fresh after a spell of rain, the lawn awaits company

Our host graciously allowed us a complimentary early check-in and gave us very helpful tips on sightseeing in Udaipur, including the recommendation of a morning walk at Fateh Sagar, and advice of exploring the Old City on foot.

A few of the many leafy occupants of the house

Our room was spacious and included a big bathroom, a dressing room and our own backyard! We ate home-cooked breakfast in a common dining room filled with interesting objects and memorabilia. Abhay, the soft-spoken housekeeper who single-handedly looks after all the rooms, took care of all our requirements. And then there was Bully, the boxer, whose droopy eyes looked at us curiously (I heard him bark only once). The owners were very warm; and sans the presence of impersonal staff and eerie hallways that are characteristic of hotels, we felt at ease during our stay.

The restaurant 1559AD is as beautiful inside as it is outdoors. We were too busy admiring the ambience and relishing the food to take any pictures (actually, we had left our phones behind in our room next door, and regretted it!)

Path leading to the back

Rickshaw drivers did not know where Khudala House was. So we had to use nearby landmarks to explain where we were staying. Once we came to the T-point in front of Fateh Sagar, we told our driver, “turn left, and its right there!” “Yeh to 1559AD hai,” (this is 1559AD) our driver said. “You should told me this before.”

During the three days we spent in Udaipur, we were mostly tourists. But at the end of the day, we came home.

Playing around

* When I did a new search a little while back, our comfy homestay’s name was very much mentioned—though there were other properties with cryptic names. I don’t know if this hiding of names is a random thing. Any ideas why OYO does this? If you know anyone there, could you ask them to change this?

Photos taken with Motorola Moto G3. Click / tap on the image to enter my Flickr photostream.

Tags 1559AD, homestay, India, Khudala House, photographs, Rajasthan, travel, Udaipur, waiting

Hobbies

Weekly Photo Challenge: Treat

Post author By Kasturika
Post date Friday, 30 October, 2015
13 Comments on Weekly Photo Challenge: Treat

'Get out of my house!'

I’ve always had a soft corner for birds. But it’s always been a challenge to photograph them near my house. They hardly sit still long enough to allow me to take a picture. The birds in the jungle though seemed to be quite extroverted.

The Jungle Babblers, which are so restless in the city, didn’t seem to be afraid of us at all. One sat right next to us on our Gypsy, while a few more were perched atop the wind shield. Looking at the pictures, I suppose they were probably angry because we were trespassing their territory.

We spotted a Rufous Treepie at the exact same spot under a bush three times. I suspect it was looking after a nest, although I didn’t find one.

There were several Bulbuls too — some that allowed me to come real close. As strange as it sounds, I’d never been so close to them before in my life. And in my greed to capture a close-up, I didn’t get a clean shot at all.

Here are a few shots I did get.
Click on a picture to view larger size.

Rufous Treepie

Jungle Babbler

‘Get out of my house!’

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Treat.”

Tags birds, forest, gallery, photographs, Sariska, travel

Stories

Weekly Photo Challenge: Careful

Post author By Kasturika
Post date Tuesday, 27 October, 2015
8 Comments on Weekly Photo Challenge: Careful

Crikey!

‘Look! Peacock feathers!
Can I take one to keep?’

‘Wait! I’ll get it!
You must stay in the Jeep.’

It’s dangerous out there.
Wild creatures only pretend to sleep.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

A poor imitation of a poem by Robert Frost

Continuing with photographs from the Sariska Wildlife Reserve, here are a few photographs for this week’s photo challenge. Click on a picture to view larger size.