Monday, December 11, 2017

Windows




During a lecture at CEPT University, architect Prof. Vasavada shared an amusing thought about windows. He jokingly mentioned that when clients ask about windows in their homes, he would suggest placing a painting or print of windows instead of actual ones. He questioned why one would want to waste wall space when they rarely open windows due to dust or for using air conditioning. Besides, curtains often cover them, adding to the accumulation of dust. 

Although it was a joke, it reminds us of the sombre reality of windows in our urban lives. Historically, windows served as openings that brought light and fresh air into rooms, transforming dark spaces into bright ones. They hold nostalgic memories and emotional encounters. In fairy tales, windows were the means of escape for captive princesses from fortified castles, and lovers like Romeo and Juliet expressed their love through these romantic points. Their role in love stories is so significant that some beautiful Hindi film songs, such as "mere samne wali kidikki pein...," celebrate the youthful essence of windows in human life. In Arabian Nights stories, Persian windows that opened to moonlit skies, and Sufi songs praising the philosophical role of windows in expressing the reality of life and its metaphysical world, immortalized their philosophical and cultural significance.

Windows in buildings are aesthetically pleasing both from the inside and outside. They represent human needs and aspirations, balancing embellishment and functionality. Externally, they become symbols of social status in architecture, while internally they serve as escape routes from the confines of the built environment.

The famous Hawa Mahal in Jaipur tells another story of gender negotiations through windows—the unseen women hidden amidst the hustle and bustle of cities. Windows also act as secret passages for social and gender considerations, allowing the oppressed to connect with the forbidden world outside while adhering to social customs. In Kerala, a renowned traditional architectural element covers windows, enabling a view of the outside world from within while restricting the view from the inside to the outside. The partially reflective glasses that adorn our cities today have perfected this game.

 Throughout my artistic journey, I have always found these intriguing aspects of human life to be fascinating. In Paldi, Ahmedabad, there was a Gujarati bungalow near Parimal Char Rasta that caught my attention. Its transparent glass windows were always closed, yet there was a play of light behind their transparency. The idea of a fragile, transparent window providing a sense of security to the household amidst the violent world outside amused me. In my art, I have painted windows and explored their role in human life numerous times, aiming to understand the complex connection they have with our lives.

 Gradually, I realised that the role of windows is not a simple narrative between ornamental frames on the outside and functional necessity on the inside. It reveals itself as a highly complex negotiation within civilisations.

 Today, as pollution and dust continue to encroach upon our cities, windows are closing, one by one. They remain shut for weeks and months, and people in urban chaos have forgotten about them. For many city dwellers, windows have become a major problem. They stay closed, becoming a passage to nostalgia, memories, and the last connection between houses and the city—they remain shut.

 

(Photos taken during my recent trip to Ahmedabad with students.)












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