Costa Rica is a hot-dog country, sandwiched between two oceans. Join in as Unnati answers 83 questions about the country steeped in natural beauty and a content nature. The vibe is absolutely addictive. The place that is about 80% covered in forest, the place that inspired Avatar, the place where Jurassic Park was possibly filmed. There is so much to this place. Tune in and listen away to a real conversation on a real place by a real person. Learn about Costa Rica and get inspired to make a trip to this emerald county that takes you closer to nature than you could ever imagine, whilst brining out your inner spontaneous diva!
The effervescent @unnati_pingle the owner of Unnati Pingle Design Studio and Theorie @theorie.in features in all her glory, recounting a summer trip to the beautiful country of Costa Rica!
I am not an adrenaline junkie and I still have to skydive and I am not even a sports person but I love doing things that set my heart thumping, I love trying new things, in short I love living my life to the fullest. Last winter I received a whopping ACL tear, meniscus tear on my knee while skiing, after a very successful ski session, yet will I do it all over again? I would. Most certainly that too. Why? Even after bursting the capillaries around my eyes after this bungee jump I’d happily do it again, again ask why and I will tell you.
There is so much joy in setting the heart on fire, much like starting a new business, learning a new form of art or simply dancing the whole night away has a charm like no other. That said crossing a busy road blind-folded or investing in stocks on a whim is sheer foolishness. But wearing a harness and jumping off a building, well that is joy, sheer joy. I am a believer that good things, err great things will happen to me, the best is always yet to come and doing is fun. Fun things are even more fun when done in the right spirit. Today as I stuff my feelings due to a lack of adventure of my kind in life I hope there is more in store of things to do and places to go. There is so much hope, so much to look forward to and there’s a lot of gratitude for that. Spend on experience they say, but even experiences fade with time, what remains are feelings and feelings make beliefs.
The last few years have left me accident prone, starting with a scuba-diving accident, then moving on to a skiing accident I thought perhaps it’s time to check the adventure sports at the door. My mother-in-law attributed it to nazar, friends said stay home for a bit and I decided to do just that. But staying home turned out to have its own perils, on one side drawers and shelves turned lethal, a banged little finger and scraped forearms but to think of it the humble Khakra managed to cut me face(!) and am not even getting into the hazards of the kitchen, read burnt fingers and evil knives. This despite the fact that I don’t cook!
So as a dear friend said upon my skiing injury, atleast you had it while doing something glamorous. Bless her soul to put things into perspective. What’s life without living it large and taking a leap of faith here and there. After all it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. While we go through life, I’d very much like to have thought that I gave it my best shot, come hollering down the hill with a worn body than to have to have called it a day without so much as a scratch or a bump. While I hope my furniture stops trying to kill me as with other elements of nature and I manage to keep myself pretty healthy, I wish the courage to leap never leaves me! How about you?
Where the Crawdads sing by Delia Owens is an ode to nature, to the marshes, to solitude, to living amidst challenges, to thrive and to come out making a killing! Both literally and figuratively. After starting on the book several times and not getting past even one page on the Kindle, though I surprisingly love to read on the Kindle in general, I finally began the book again, this time on a library borrowed hard copy with a great font size and a new binding. And man, this time I couldnt stop. The book is beguiling to say the least and it kept me up all night reading till I ended it, murder mysteries have that quality you see, but this one is not a face-up murder mystery, it probably is but is layered under so many factors that the murder almost seems incidental. For an author who has written several award-winning books on the subject of nature, of the non-fiction variety, one can only expect a lot of information on the world of flora and fauna, while this one ticks all the boxes on the life in the marsh, the plethora of birds are captured quite beautifully.
There is a rhythm on the planet, the way the world works and then there is the way nature works, quite differently from the wordly world made by nature’s fondest child, man. But when the two worlds collide there can be mayhem, but when the two worlds collaborate then there is sheer magic. When Kya, the protagonist, already a wild child, in the rhythm of nature, learns to collaborate with the world of man, they is magic produced. She writes award-winning books, she paints furiously and she gets by on a charm that not many have. While she handles her issues, the author runs a faint thread of the right and wrong in the natural world and with that guides our sense of morality making sure we do not even judge and hardly despise the murderer. That quality which Owens achieves has truly captivated me.
Not much a bird-watcher this book had me looking out into trees, or even the sky watching for birds every now and then, it also had me hearing out to distinguish a parrot from a mynah. If bird-watching has been on your agenda from time immemorial, this one is something that will give you a final push and get you out there in all your glory. Sea-gulls, Red-chested cuckoo, and ofcourse the Crawdads, every page I turned had me googling for how the birds actually looked. I am so inspired to begin the rather noble device of bird-watching. Getting out those binoculars and emptying the mind. The way she describes mussels, fishing and even pies, makes one feel so in touch with the art of being, simply being. If we could only be, emptying the mind of anything, we can receive the enriching gladness of nature. That was my takeaway from the book. And the murder, oh well, it was nature surviving, the river taking its course. La di da.
It is a must-read if you are up for reading, but even if not, fret not, for there is a way, Resse Witherspoon is producing the movie starring Daisy Edgar-Jones as Kya and the movie is slated to release this year. I doubt that the Director can capture the nuances that Owens manages to capture and convey in the book that reads so easily and effortlessly, but I am sure that it may even be worth a patch.
The Sahyadri Mountains or more affably called the western ghats are a range of mountains traversing across the states of Karnataka, Goa, Maharashtra, Gujarat, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. They arent as high and lofty as the Himalayas, the highest point at 8,842 ft as against the Himalayas, at 8848m, making them roughly a third of the mighty Himalayas in stature, but unparalleled in beauty. If the color of the Himalayas is white, the colors of the Western ghats is green and what a green it is. This May, we made the most of the Indian Summers and decided to go traipsing across the ghats in the Indian subcontinent centring ourselves around a past of the ghats that have their very own Geographical Index marking, and drove around the ghats going through tunnels, slopy ghat sections, trading through waterfalls, mostly absent in the peak of the summer and then enjoying the loot of the season, read scrumptious berries, strawberries, mulberrys and well, shrewsbury!
Landing into the Pune Airport is like raising a salute to the Indian Airforce, an arm of the defence services of the country. As a defence airport, photography is strictly not allowed, not even encouraged briefly. But the aircrafts we got to see quite by chance even left a 4-year old enthralled. A small brisk airport, it barely acknowledges one, forget about luring one like the airports in the other metros do. Uber though, comes shiny and bright and takes us through the city of Pune, a sleepy big city when compared to the nearby bustling mega-metropolis of Mumbai about 150 kilometres away, serviced by a large-laned expressway, Pune is surprisingly large despite its proximity to Mumbai. Getting by in Pune is relatively easy if one has been subject to the traffic snarls of Bengaluru for sure, but then we are greeted with the tiresomeness of the Indian roads in most cities these days.
Pune’s most impressive neighbourhood is the Koregaon Park for sure, with its massive houses, that could easily pose as farmhouses but then they are houses, so massive in size and boundary walls over 10′ out, they keep away their location quite aptly. The houses of Adar Poonawalla, Cyrus Mistry are deeply aspirational but keeping the city out and themselves in almost seem like they are caged within themselves. I cant believe Poonawalla felt unsafe and had to make a dash for London to save himself even after living in a house like that(!) I mean like he needed the Indian Ocean for a moat to keep away the threats. But then the Adar Poonawalla foundation literally sponsors sports, clean-city initiatives, upliftment of the poor, empowerment of women and lot of other initiatives that seem worthy. While we looked at the fancy affairs of the Poonawallas we also watched Natasha strut at the Met, looking a lot like the cover of Atlas Shrugged as she carried off the spindle-corset and a Sabyasachi sari. One doesnt need to wear khadi to do charity she quips but then one would certainly be more comfortable in Khadi I think. And with that thought we tucked into a lovely sundowner at One-nought Eight, a art-taurent, featuring an art gallery and a restaurant serving up the most delicious pizzas and Pavlova to literally die for. With its earthy-plants and the breezy decor I would say it was absolutely enthralling. The nursery next door offers up scintillating information about plants making this art-place an absolute delight.
Pune is also the city of Osho, the spiritual cult that has several followers, I dont see the point, infact in this case I was glad to see high boundary walls, but the Osho garden made for a delightful walk. It is also the city of the Aga Khan the title given to the Nizari sect of Muslims, and the palace that was built to save the city from the famine, a palace that served a completely different purpose, shielding the freedom-fighters, keeping the Mahatma as a political prisoner in an Italian architecture-inspired building, so decadent as ever, like a cake with all its tiers in a garden so brown that it is a grandeur, a sight to behold, transporting one into varied thoughts.
The rest of Pune is markedly different from Koregaon Park, with the bustle of the Maratha-speaking people going on their affairs, Pune the home of Baji Rao, showcases the Wadis, the museums and the Mastanis, with much ease. It was the seat of the Maratha kingdom and the forts that surround the city tell a story. As time went on Pune transformed into a hub for education with colleges like Fergusson to Symbiosis and I must say the city’s average age is probably 19. Munching on Vada-pavs for dinner or tawa-ice cream seems to be the norm, and dont even get me started on Maggi which seems to be the national dish, atleast in the tourist spots from Kashmir to literally Kanyakumari. The Pune zoo, isnt the best in the country but it does have a bunch a animals worth drooling over, the Tigers for instance and the reptiles, as slimy as they maybe. The lake in the zoo is covered in algae and only speaks volumes about how unclean it is. Plastic ought to be drastically reduced in consumption for sure. That is recurring thought that sticks in my head everytime I walk around anywhere, travelling or not. To take respite and some shelter from the sveltering heat we ran over to the Phoenix mall in Viman Nagar, a neighbourhood that has its roots in the booming IT sector all over the world. Scotch & Soda was one brand that stood out with its beachy and summery vibes and the whiffs at Oud Arabia amidst the usual, Zara and H&Ms! A fabulous riverside dinner (yes, Pune has a river) at the Royal Connaught Boat Club wrapped up our trip to Pune. The Uttukars are a company that import Grass hardware from Germany, apart from making some fabulous clocks and kitchens. Our host, their house boasts of a brilliant log cabin connecting the indoors to the outdoors and the house to the outhouse. It is so inventive and smart, something I have never seen before except perhaps in Switzerland. Another feature as an architect that I loved was the glass loft in the kitchen covering half of the vertical shutter of the loft.
After ousting the closest city to reach one of the most beautiful hill-towns in this country we made our way to the town of Panchgani that is home to some amazing boarding schools and a breath-taking table land or table top. That was a surprise we didnt quite expect and were blown away for real. Honestly we had to hold on to our 4-year old son who was as inspired to take off on the table top as frankly, we were! The table top land is a natural formation of five hills with a flatenned top, giving the town its name of Panchgani. (five angans as translated from Hindi) The table top has two caves, a water pond and views that bring out the best in us and the sun, the sunset is exquisite. While we did not opt to ride the horses and walked all along, we were entertained by our peppy guide who had a lot to say on the place and on Bollywoods enchantment with Panchgani. The Pandavas too shelter in one of the caves of the Panchgani table land. The air in the cave was a good 10 degree cooler than the outside, talk of conditioned air. Our room had a stunning view of the valley and running around under the trees in the expansive garden of the hotel lawns had we fawning over the beauty of life. Another feature of Panchgani before I get onto the main feature is the sustainable, ecological farms that host people to brew kombucha, recycle goods, compost waste and literally learn to leave no trace on this planet. I for one, love to leave a digital trace, and hence this blog, but then it is a wonderful aspiration to have – to leave no trace on this planet and to tread super softly. The air is literally cleaner in Panchgani and the vibe of the place is exquisite. Lucky indeed are those that get to live there, the slowness of life is mighty alluring. And then lets get to the main part, the main feature of our trip, the reason for traipsing across the western ghats, the strawberries!!!! Dotting the landscape of Panchgani are exquisite strawberry farms with sweet pretty strawberries loading up on our plate every now and then. I for one ate so many strawberries that I can literally feel my skin glow with the sheen that strawberries provide. Filled with antioxidants, strawberries taste as yummy as they look and when partnering with cream that make a duet that I wouldnt ever wish to stop. Only until we reached Mahabaleshwar and I will tell you why. In a bit. But for now, Mapro with its strawberries and sandwich and pizzas and views that behold were like being in strawberry heaven. The Mapro Garden in Panchgani has all the trappings of a strawberry wonderland. We loved standing in strawberry cutouts working it up as we went from sampling fresh strawberries or khakras loaded with seasonings.
Mahabaleshwar is about 30 minutes drive away from Panchgani, and in Mahabaleshwar the jungle starts too, tigers were once a normal occurence in Mahabaleshwar, now it is people. In Mahabaleshwar the strawberry farms in May were almost burnt out, in the words of a resident, but the mulberries were in full swing and divine they were. While strawberries grow as a plant, mulberries grow on trees and they too make a wonderful combination with cream and ofcourse icecream. Corn is another ingredient that is found all over Mahabaleshwar, that I mean aside from Maggi(!), makkai tikka, makkai bhuna, corn fried, corn steamed, getting corn to be everything that it could ever be is one big aspect of this town. Apart from the stunning produce that is edible, Mahabaleshwar has produce that even delights the eyes, the view points that overlook into seven rivers that start at Mahabaleshwar, five are keenly visible but two are firmly underground. The major perennial river that starts at Mahabaleshwar is the River Krishna and there is a temple to commemorate the fact. Praying at the Mahabaleshwar temple of Shiva and the Krishna starting point is divine, here the hills are alive with the sound of life, the sound of water. As all tourist spots are these are too filled with hawkers ready to sell ware, everywhere, I wish the country didnt have so many crowded spots but then that is the nature of this country, the population, a bane or a boon, it could be both rolled into one. The horses at Mahabaleshwar too look smart and at the Venna Lake one is shown the best that nature can bring out in people. Boating at the lake is a solitary affair, one where we can rent a paddle boat or an oared one and roam freely in the expanse of the lake, it is the best thing to do, perhaps comes after swimming in my list, rowing ones own boat, so serene and so happiness inducing. And there is something about sunsets, all across the Western ghats, so beautiful as I will continue on the next leg of our traipse.
Driving ahead from Mahabaleshwar we headed to Lonavala, the town famous for chikki in peanut, walnut, pistachio or even in dried rose and strawberry. Every resort in Lonavala is studded with a water-themed park, with water slides, waterfalls and everything gorgeous. Why there is one on trees called a Machan but that is only for couples not enjoyable with kids, the water-parks well thats what makes Lonavala so enjoyable. In Lonavala, there are projects by bigwig developers like Aamby Valley, Lavasa and lots more, the hills have inspired splendid homes, as we saw in Lonavala. Ofcourse they are older and not swanky like in Koregaon Park but the sizes are just the same albeit with lower boundary walls that probably let the people breathe. Sliding down a water slide is such a welcome change for the summer, the sound of water flowing is very calming while standing under a waterfall massages not just the back but the soul as well and as it does it makes the body let go of everything, quite literally. Waterfalls naturally make caves and getting inside one of there waterfall caves is sheer delight, as I found recently, though the Lonavala waterfall is more flat it is to be seen in the monsoon in all its glory. But being amidst water in the hills gets the water to echo its fall all over the hills and hearing the echo is an experience.
From Lonavala we headed to the famous locale of Khandala, one that even inspired a popular song in Hindi. The Khandala ghat boasts of an unparalled view of the sunset, it is marvellous and I totally recommend it to everyone. We loved being on the ghat having our picture taken, eating chikki and doing everything that Aamir Khan recommends as he lip syncs to the song “Aati Kya Khandala”. With everyone dotting the landscape of Khandala the view looks even better. Everything is better when shared they say, the view too gets better I have found. Finding a lone coconut water seller on the ghat we went forward to get one for ourselves, turns out that coconut water is the favorite drink of our family. We lapped up the goodness and heard the tender coconut seller tell us stories about how the clouds rise towards the Khandala Ghat in the monsoons and he is eternally blessed to be sitting there at that spot twenty-four hours in a day, 365 days a year, I couldnt smile as I heard him, for it is not every day that a street-side vendor expresses gratitude or even contentment. There is something about contentment, it is a treasure, not easily found and when you do you realise that it is precious. That man on the Khandala ghat selling coconut water, with a twinkle in his eyes, his easy smiles, and a ready story or two has found his calling and that makes him swell, with pride, with gratitude, with happiness, whether his stall is full or not. A larger number of people throng the tea or the Maggi stalls, but simple pleasures come from the natural, not so much the man-made. The flow of water, the flow of the wind, the siege of the trees, the smell of the strawberries, the terseness of the Mulberries, the beauty of the hills, the sound of silence, the feeling of a full tummy, the excitedness of a 4-year old, the contenment of the heart or even for some with the ending of a trip! Some people are blessed to be insanely happy to return home, to not be bitten by the travel bug, to be happy where they are, to not find a need to travel, to breathe with contentment and be merry where they are, to be like trees deeply rooted, and then there are some like clouds, who want to flitter and flutter, here and there, and everywhere, and they marry each other, and then the magic begins, just like the earth and sky, with its trees and clouds.
While I flit through a dozen apps to plan my next holiday, say Club Mahindra, Kayak, Calendar, Booking.com, Air BnB, Tata Neu, Taj Properties, am finding this term flashing all over Mobile-only price. With increasing apps becoming phone based, yes I am talking about Instagram the phone is getting irreplaceable and the personal computer? Defunct. Such is life. Am wondering like I book a slot for the gym, if I can book a slot for school for my kid soon, claimable at any centre as long as I have a 75 pc attendance clocked, again, on the app. Perhaps leaving some room for online sessions when my son can’t attend class for reasons of travel or simply on a whim.
There is no denying the fact that life is getting so easy on the phone. I can’t believe but getting me unhooked to the computer has been the biggest blessing of this decade. Gone are those shoulder pains and neck aches that plagued me all my working life in my twenties. Not to mention the dry-eye syndrome acerbated by air-conditioned offices and blue-light screens. I can literally run my world lying on a couch, am reminded of Lord Vishnu. As I sketch on my the Pad and sent drawings away in a jiffy, the computer based applications like AutoCAD I wish will increasingly better their apps, so that the personal computer can finally take a hike. I love the times we live in. But I also love having no gadgets around me from time to time. I cannot argue how my friendly neighbourhood gadgets are measuring my height, weight and even stress levels! After all what we measure, improved and there is a lot to gain my taking stock, and I am indebted to technologists who make our lives so easy app by app, one app at a time. Though taking my phone to bed with me has been the worst thing of this decade, perhaps an app can help me with that too!
P.s this weekend while brunching I was told of a friend of mine who was tricked into downloading an app on the iPhone that promised to solar charge her phone(!) I do hope that can be a reality though. Just saying.
Emilia Jones, Troy Kotsur, Marlee Matlin and Daniel Durant create an endearing family that is bound by several trials of life, one being that of a disability of hearing. But this Oscar-winning movie touches all the right chords, it had me in splits and then it has me tearing up and in the end it left a lasting impression. I always knew how the absence of one sense made up with other senses but this movie shows keenly how ability ably defeats disability of all sorts. More crucial that anything else we face in life the best thing to have is a disability of fear. As long as one is unafraid, one can have several gainful ways of existence. As Daniel Durant plays the brother, a lasting dialogue he says, or rather conveys when Jones asks how will he run a coop business with a disability he says that the hearers will learn!
What an attitude. After all, attitude is everything. It is touching when the family agrees heartily on letting go their only hearing member but it is even more touching when Jones sings her audition and conveys what she is signing through ASL to her family. As they look around bored, she entertains them with the glory of meaning. And then there’s Kotsur, who tries to clean the stupendous talent and ability of his daughter by feeling her neck as she sings. There are so many moments in this movie that tug at the heart. It is made excruciatingly beautifully and is entertaining all the same. A must watch I would say, there are so many ways of living a full life on this planet, with or without ability, with stability and a sense of humour. There is no end to dreaming and there are no boundaries when there is courage.
Curated by the Reves art gallery, in Bangalore, set in a delightful setting by the pool at Taj Westend, with a book in my hand, the evening was a picture of literally all of my favourite things. Here are a few of the works that caught my attention. Vaikuntam is evergreen ofcourse, but two pieces by Shan Re looked fabulous and one by a Seema Kholi. While buying art is an art, for sure, soaking in art too is an art, less exhausting though ofcourse.
Vaikuntam’sSeema Kholi’s
With turkeys and other fowl for company, Kamal Pant inaugurated the well curated exhibition and the IPS officer clearly defined the role of the artist as a indispensable part of a society. To create anything, to imagine the nonexistent requires courage and creativity by that definition definitely requires courage. And the way art provides a perspective encouraging one to pause and reflect if not experience a certain bliss, for the doer and the seeer is undoubtable.
So here’s cheers to art, may we see it, may we make it, may we live with it, in it, may we experience it and thus may our lives be a work of art!
Tucked away in the leafy bylanes of Basvanagudi, Svasa Homes plays home to this delightful abode, an apartment sprinkled with a aesthetic and a vibe that transports one to the best of India. It is incredible really, like the country it takes deep inspiration from. Peppered with Chettinad columns and adorned with beautiful paintings from Rajasthan, carpets for Kashmir, this home boasts of an even delectable sight, a view of Bangalore’s leafy and cultural Basvanagudi from the 15th floor.
The entrance foyer is arresting and commanding with a set of arm chairs and a huge painting that sets the tone of the house. Covered in a patina of shiny grey paint, the walls enclose a flooring of wood conveying a warm and cultural aura in the home. The Pooja area is a glorified niche kept minimal and in balance with a Tanjore painting and a lamp. The kitchen door is an antique carved door that is an art piece in itself. The kitchen is alarmingly modern but balances itself with Atangudi tiles on the floor and a caramelised hue all over it’s fixed cabinetry and the counter top.
The bedrooms are aesthetically pleasing with beds and furniture in wood, impeccably sourced from the various parts of the country. The walls again use art and craft paying a cultural ode to the country’s vast extents. Keeping the wardrobes modern and utilitarian is a genius stroke as the sliding doors keep within them all the functional necessities in a home while blending into the walls quite effortlessly. The masterbed with an independent study unit speaks volumes of the finesse in crafted bespoke furniture.
The dining are has a gravitas of it own in a home that exemplifies gravitas. With a stunning chandelier casting light over an even more exquisite carpet, while a mega-Tanjore painting looks down at the dining table itself. The bar unit is hidden well in an heritage armoire that opens up into an elaborately well-stocked bar. In this home that resembles a temple of South-India it is only apt to have a bird’s eye view of a zillion coconut trees of the Ramakrishna Math Ashram in Bangalore.
Curated with taste of the highest order, paying keen attention to showcasing the best of India, being a visual delight, keeping to the basics, glorifying the arts and crafts of India, allowing room to breathe with classic minimalism, bringing a new definition to luxury ethnic, setting the standards of home really high, this super gorgeous home is definitely a marker of all things beautiful, all things aspirational and all things drool worthy. It makes one proud of India, it makes one proud of being Indian and presents the best of the country minus the chaos. It is so beautiful and with all the art so cultural that it becomes effortlessly soulful. It is a temple of sorts to India, to the nature of beauty and is a harbinger of inner peace.
I could not but exclaim at this point that Truth is Beauty, and a beautiful home could just inspire a beautiful life.
2010 was a big year for me, a huge move across the Indian Ocean, the starting at a world-famous architecture firm that does smart projects across the globe with a work ethic like no other, but more importantly the granting of my architecture license by the Council of Architecture. It has been twelve years hence and as I renew my license this year, I feel tremendously hopeful of what the future has in store for me. The last twelve years, 144 full moons and a lot of learning in this vast and diverse field that constitutes the making of things, small and big, sometimes a handle and at other times a building. The best is yet to come, and I simply am super enthused about it.
Meanwhile here are brief samples of work that came my way in the last twelve years. There a many of course that haven’t made it in this video, but they are all dear to me, being a part of my journey, they and have played a huge role in what I am today and what I seek to be in the future. This year is truly special with all the work pouring in, diverse, challenging work that’s has me stepping up to newer and brighter avenues. It’s been long in the coming and the path has been winding so far, I sincerely hope that this path straightens up in the next twelve years.
Raring to go, beaming with a curious sense of design, clear in the head, hopeful in the heart, I continue my journey in the field of architecture, sometimes witnessing, sometimes drawing inspiration, sometimes happily inspiring, at other times keenly learning. Thank you all dear readers for reading, incidentally, this blog completes 11 years this year, I started it a year after attaining my professional license. Soon we will have an option of listening in, with a podcast and an aural reading of the blog articles starting now. So read on, listen in and have me design your home, workplace or precinct!
The iconic Secunderabad Club was established on the 26th day of April in 1878 and that makes it today about 144 years old. What a figure for a building! That number itself catapults it to the echelons of history, making it a part of the rich heritage of Hyderabad and in turn of the country. Though the present building or the anchor of buildings, began with a generous donation of Sir Salarjung Bahadur II, it stood the test of time, till now, surviving, playing host to various turns of events, morphing itself from a humble hunting lodge to a prestigious club with world-class facilities. From being called first the Secunderabad Public Rooms, to the Secunderabad Garrison Club, the Secunderabad Gymkhana Club, the United Services Club, before finally being named the Secunderabad Club it has donned several hats in its hundred year old history. Built then of massive wood-work, the club’s form boasted of cutting-edge construction techniques of those times, when massive building spans and heights were maintained through stone pillars and wooden trusses, supported my iron and steel before being finished off with stone slabs for the floor. Set in about 22 acres of lush greenery, the club also comprises of several structures in the compound serving as additional facilities added over time. The main hunting lodge remained ever since as the main colonnade topped by a ball room, fringed by a heritage billiards room, administrative offices and chambers for the club’s elected President.
History has it that this Club was formed by the British Army Garrisons that were stationed in Secunderabad under an agreement with the 3rd Nizam – Sikandar Jah. The Club was then known as Garrison Club. Over a period of 15 to 20 years the British presence in Hyderabad increased and the British brought in their civilian officers to look after the Nizam’s Railways, as well as the judicial system to administer the cantonment area. The Nizam also requisitioned the British Officers to help him set up the electrical, waterworks and various revenue reforms in the state. During the late 19th century, the name of Garrison Club was changed to United Services Club representing the membership from all parts of the services. The Club was no longer an army club and it served all the services represented by the British. As time went by, the officers later changed the name to Secunderabad Club since it was situated in Secunderabad. This name change coincided with the presentation by Salar Jung I who was the Prime Minister of Hyderabad State to the resident at that point of time of his hunting lodge. The club came to the current location on March 1903 growing into several structures across its extent.
It is an icon for several reasons, because of its excruciatingly exquisite history, because of its distinguished people, because of it’s progressive attitude, because of it’s exceptional facilities, because of it’s insightful insignia and mostly also because of the superlative stories it’s walls tell. Layered with the past and laced with the vagaries of the modern, the building that was once a simple hunting lodge festooned by man’s conquest in the wild, one that stored the past on its walls but has always been poised stoically in the present, at the same time raring to go forth into the future has been popular generation after generation, decade after decade and that my dear readers, is no mean feat. To remain timeless and faultless, embracing the need of every member, charming with the old wooden panelling or chiding with the pendulum of the clock, providing enough room for the celebration of every festival, be it the chaos of Holi or the joy of Christmas, or simply for allowing a drink or two under the gaze of a star-lit sky, it has shown what classic in architecture really is. I could regale you with stories of how my ninety-one year old grandfather and my four year old son relate to the club’s aura in their own capacity not to mention my sixty-something parents or my brother and me at half their age. I for one have fond memories of participating and winning (no wonder I said fond) several drawing and painting competitions that every child is subjected to, once winning by the choice of the very famous illustrator R K Laxman! There are some buildings that make one’s heart swell with pride, some buildings that make one’s heart feel safe and sound, some buildings are that encourage intelligent conversation, some buildings that in-still a sense of propriety, some buildings that make one feel royal, some buildings that install in one a sense of leisure, possibly deep relaxation, still other buildings that infuse a heart of joy, but this one, it does it all. Am sure there isn’t one soul who has seen this building in real and not felt the same, member or not. From setting me on a path of growth as a little impressionable girl and later as a young buoyant architect, this magnificent building always made me feel great, we never do forget how something makes us feel, do we? And today, out of the blue, the visuals of the iconic main building, one that survived, two World Wars, one Cold War and one non-violent struggle for independence, retrofitting over the years to fit the British sensibilities and then the Indians of free India, to see this masterpiece of a building on fire is shocking.
I feel shaken even now writing this, recollecting for myself what the building meant to me as a child. It obviously inspired awe, but also was a home away from home, it always felt like a safe haven, where we spent hours whiling away time or learning something new, always besotted with familiar faces, the colonnade, from where came incessant chatter or at times guffaws of laughter, where my father introduced me for the first time to the various types of alcohol by name, I never drank of course and have continued to be a happy teetotaller, where an odd old gentleman or two would fall asleep on generous plantation chairs, (I could never imagine such gay abandon in a seemingly busy place!) where we could in a mobile-less world, que up to call our parents on the landline to pick us up, later lapping up food as the colonnade served the club’s varied cuisine that is extremely singular to its space, why it was also the place where I gave my first magazine interview and being published! Though little did I know then of the travails of fame. Retrospection is always a side effect of nostalgia. 🙂 The main ball room, well that played canvas to my forays into acting, played host to several summer camps, and the terrace that adjoins it played backdrop to our childhood charades. The administrative chambers is where we’d go when we irresponsibly lost our club cards, the grand staircase is what took us there. At his point I must admit that I was always spooked by the animal heads, or rather the taxidermy mounts on the walls. It always is spooky no matter which part of the world and I wonder what makes one embalm such creatures (!), but then I would never hunt, so the conquests of the game is past me. The building on fire, gutted to the core, is another level of spooky altogether, or must I say how unimaginable it really is. My social media walls are full of stories paying tribute to the burnt out building, leaving so many broken hearts that it feels like a person has died, but then it only is a building, housing no one at the time of fire, costing no lives. As an architect I am certain that it can be rebuilt, even incorporating what the older one missed, read recent amenities. I always wondered how the club has a petrol station and no elevator, seems wondrous isn’t it. It comes at a cost though, I am told the damages to the club are worth over thirty-crores, but when we are looking into the future there is really no time to lament the past.
And this I say with utter confidence as while interning in 2008, I had the chance to work on a part of the building, thankfully untouched by the fire last night, under the able guidance of architect Yeshwant Ramamurthy of Studio One, approved by the then Works Committee Chairman of the club Mr Vijay Sree Ram, where we worked on the design of the Dining Hall and restored the facade of the dining room, stone block by stock block, and with that experience of restoration I am glad with the certainty that this is an accident that can be set right. Helmed by a very proficient President and a suitable committee, there really is no member who has not got a vested interest in the Club. Like a doting child, every member means well, and every brick in the wall says the same thing, a story of Agathism, it will all turn out well in the end. A short-circuit is what set the building abuzz, bit by bit, but eventually decimating every part of the superstructure, it is a very unfortunate event, an accident that would better off be not, but it is and whether we build it up exactly as it was or something different, build it we will. And that is the spirit of the Secunderabad Club, or call it by any another name, with all the name changes of the past, it doesn’t matter what we call it, it doesn’t matter what it looks like, those who have witnessed this piece of history will remember it fondly for eons to come, the next generation will see glimpses of it in the sketches that notable artists have made in the past, but the building itself? Well, like a Phoenix it shall rise, from the ashes, in that I implicitly trust.
And it burns on in our hearts, making us forever grateful for the memories. After all for all that we cannot see, we can feel.
Last weekend I had the pleasure of putting my hands and mind to a new style of acrylic art, minus the paint brushes and with an addition of a pouring medium. Fluid art has caught on a new flight along with alcohol ink art and resin art, all these three forms of art do away with the traditional notions of fine art that has always employed the use of a paint brush and been made on the premise of a pre-conceived solid idea of what should be finally accrued, challenging the traditional notions, these forms of fine art insist on the artist having a certain sense of detachment. It is but for all a necessity, for a fluid art artist. Of course there is a choice in terms of colour, the scale but the final art is allowed to emerge from the canvas as such.
The freedom from the paintbrush makes this form of art accessible to a greater populace, but that trend would certainly be reversed as some people are perfectionists and hence prefer a greater control over their art work. This art is the epitome of letting go, but yes, letting go soon, for the acrylic and the pouring medium will definitely dry up all too soon. That’s one oil painting that makes Oils all too superior. There is always that element of change possible over a stipulated time with oil paints, with acrylic change was never perfectly possible, but the pouring medium gives oscillation a chance for a very short duration. The act to going with the flow is essentially a great life skill to have and fluid act may we’ll help one practice that. On a more philosophical note, non-action with this medium produces an equally splendid/beautiful result as could an extremely deliberated final product. There is power, insight and strength in non-action (as opposed to inaction), going with the flow, a sense of detachment and acceptance. It is wonderful to know that whatever will be will be and it will be okay, just like whatever is is. Now that’s a bit too philosophical but in these times these are life lessons and fluid is then the new solid.
P.s. getting the paint off your fingers may well be an art form in itself!
Vedasri Siddamsetty 