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What if this is the beginning of the way back to why you began?




In a year defined by clarity of purpose and a call to action, NASA India’s 67th year stood as a resounding declaration to speak up, to reform, and to reshape. The annual theme ‘Exclaim’ urged every student and voice to rise, express, and challenge the conventions of the architectural fraternity. It was not just a theme, but a movement, an invitation to imagine a better, bolder collective future for architecture in India.
With this spirit at its core, the year unfolded through a series of purposeful milestones. NASA India successfully convened Zonal Council Meets in Zone1, Zone2, Zone3, Zone5 and Zone6 in the offline format, while Zone 4 hosted its proceedings online, ensuring a strong start of this year’s leadership.
The First General Body Meeting in Visakhapatnam became a crucial moment of leadership, where bold decisions were made, including the revival of Ruebens as a Trophy, and the majority passing of an increase in the subscription fee from the 68th Year. The 67th year also marked a strong academic leap forward. The launch of the NASA India Research Conference introduced a



first of its kind for students committed to research in architecture. The Short Film Trophy followed, reinforcing the idea that architecture is not just about space, but also about stories; narratives that shape human experience and cultural memory. In line with the year’s vision, the Association consciously brought a more academic and future-oriented approach to all conventions, focusing on themes and subjects often absent from the standard curriculum. Across the country, the Zonal NASA Conventions came alive with creativity and collaboration.
At ZNC Zone 1, students attempted a Limca Book of Records by painting a 70-by-70 feet portrait of Ar. B.V. Doshi, a gesture of reverence and artistic unity. ZNC Zone 5 made a mark by inviting school students into the NASA fold and hosted a book launch of ‘The Forgotten Stepwells of Telangana’, making architecture accessible to younger minds. The zones hosted keynote sessions with Ar. Charanjit Shah and Ar. Biju Kuriakose respectively. ZNC Zone 4 featured a powerful keynote address by Ar. Sourav Gupta, among many distinguished speakers, who collectively elevated the intellectual value of our conventions.





NASA India also expanded its learning platforms through two well-received NASA India Online Program cycles, offering both basic and advanced modules tailored to the evolving needs of the profession. These programs reached a wide demographic of more than 1500 architecture students across the nation. The Louis I. Kahn Documentation Program continued its impactful journey in documenting architectural legacy, while international opportunities were strengthened through curated student engagements in Seoul, South Korea.
Among the year’s most significant milestones was the establishment of a collaboration of the NASA India Scholarship Fund with the Council of Architecture, with a value of ₹10,00,000, a defining step towards empowering deserving students across India. Complementing this, we had the launch of The Christopher Benninger Gold Medal, in association with CCBA Designs, Pune, marking a new pinnacle in student recognition, both in terms of prestige and the financial award it carries, standing as the



highest honour to an architecture student. Adding to this, the LIK Trophy Book was released at the Red Fort on 26th January 2025.
However, the year was not without its challenges. Due to unforeseen geopolitical tensions at the border, the 67th Year Annual NASA Convention was regretfully called off. The event was projected to host over 4,500 Indian students and 500+ international participants, with global representation from South Asia and beyond. While this decision was difficult, it was guided by caution, responsibility, and care for the student community.
In the 67th year, we did more than conduct events; we made statements, took stands, and set new academic and cultural benchmarks. Through actions, collaborations, and unwavering commitment to student voices, the Association continues to evolve as a force for thoughtful, inclusive, and transformative change in the architectural student fraternity across India.













By Nikitha Audrey D’Souza and Pradyuman Nair

In a profession often driven by novelty and spectacle, Ar. Riken Yamamoto invites us to pause and reflect. Being a recipient of the 2024 Pritzker Prize, he is known for work deeply influenced by communal living and traditional practices, emphasising architecture’s dual role in shaping relationships as well as spaces. At a time when many students may feel overwhelmed by the pace of this field or distanced from the profession, Ar. Yamamoto offers a refreshing counter-narrative. To NASA India, his recognition through the Pritzker Prize is not just a trophy in the cabinet, but a reaffirmation of architecture’s innate social purpose.
In this interview, he discusses the significance of village life, threshold spaces like the Darwaza, and how architecture can foster community in both traditional and modern contexts.
DON’T IMITATE. ADAPT. INNOVATE WITHIN THE WISDOM OF YOUR OWN PEOPLE.




IA: Your Pritzker Citation commended your ability to create the extraordinary out of normality. How do you transform everyday spaces into something meaningful? To you, what really defines the extraordinary in architecture?
RY: That’s a question I often hear, but I’m especially happy to answer it in an Indian context. When I was around 25 or 26 years old, I travelled across Indian villages with my professor and students. That experience shaped my understanding of what is “extraordinary.”
I remember a village where families built homes on artificial islands. They literally made land before building houses. These were not typical homes; they reflected deep communal structures. One house hosted the father, another housed the wife and children, and a third structure, the Darwaza, was meant exclusively for guests. They also had multiple fireplaces — one for each wife and child. To them, this was normal. This is what makes architecture extraordinary: it emerges from what a community deems ordinary. What is normal in one place can be utterly surprising in another. Either in India or in Japan, each culture creates a unique rhythm of life through built spaces. So to define “extraordinary”, we must first ask: “Extraordinary for whom?”
IA: You mentioned the Darwaza. What is the significance of such a space?
RY: The Darwaza is deeply symbolic. It’s not just a gate or a room; it is the threshold between public and private life. In the homes I visited in Chibayish, Iraq, there’s a similar space called the Madhef. These threshold spaces are universal because people everywhere need a transition zone where the outside world meets the inner one.
In one Indian joint family home I studied, the Darwaza was the master’s room and the guest space — a key part of the social fabric. These homes were often shared by multiple wives and their children, arranged in a carefully structured plan around a central courtyard. Every family had its Darwaza. It was a space of respect, hospitality, and transition.
I realised that this architecture was not about buildings, but about social rhythm. Even though some spaces looked like separate homes, the presence of a shared Darwaza unified them into one family.
IA: Has this influenced your modern architectural work?
RY: Yes, absolutely. I tried to reimagine the Darwaza in a project I designed in Pangyo, Korea. There, I created a cluster of 100 houses, divided into nine smaller groups. Each group shared a common deck, which became a semipublic zone used for working, relaxing, and socialising. Some families even used this space as a guest room or atelier.
The deck is surrounded by transparent glass walls, which make it visually open while maintaining its function. People meet, guests are welcomed, and the community forms naturally. Even in a modern setting, we found that such threshold spaces strengthened the sense of belonging.
IA: Your Pritzker Award celebrates your designs based on community and shared space. What does winning the Pritzker Prize mean to you personally and professionally?
RY: After the Pritzker Prize, I obviously became a very wellknown architect. Many cities and communities reached out to me. I was invited to the Philippines, Venezuela, and South America. One surprising moment was being contacted by slum residents who wanted to transform their neighbourhoods.
They didn’t ask for high-tech solutions. They asked, “How do we create better communities?” And I told them: you already have the community. What you need is to nurture it, not replace it. Slums are often perceived as chaotic or poor, but I saw a rich social life. People support one another. There is a culture of sharing. That is something modern urban planning often lacks. In Guatemala, Manila, and Venezuela, I saw this repeated. These communities reminded me of the villages I visited in India. They might not have material wealth, but they have social wealth. That is where architectural thinking must begin.
IA: When it comes to helping communities, you had a chance to do that uniquely as both architect and president of the Nagoya Zokei University of Art and Design. How did that dual role influence your design process?
Nagoya Zokei University of Art and Design is a renowned institution in Japan that integrates art, design, and architecture. Under Ar. Riken Yamamoto’s presidency, it became a platform for merging academic life with an appropriate spatial design that offered him a rare opportunity to physically shape the same environment he helped lead.


RY: Being both architect and president allowed me to align space with purpose. I wasn’t just designing buildings; I was shaping the educational environment and the philosophy behind it. I could speak directly with professors and students and create architecture that truly served their needs. It felt natural. I wasn’t split between two roles; I was unifying them. Designing for the university became a kind of ideal project where the space encouraged conversation, creativity, and deep relationships. I wish more institutions allowed for this kind of holistic approach.
IA: You founded the Local Area Republic Lab after the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake. How did that initiative shift your approach to urban planning?
The Local Area Republic Lab is a post-disaster urban research initiative founded by Yamamoto to explore how traditional community systems can inform modern, resilient city-making. It aims to revive social cohesion through architectural practices rooted in cultural continuity.
RY: After the Tohoku earthquake, I realised that rebuilding a city was not just about restoring its infrastructure. The real loss was the community. Modern architectural systems had no tools for that. The modernised idea of community architecture is just multiple individual units grouped together with no sense of communication.
We have high-tech tools for private homes, but almost no idea how to design for living together. So I turned back to traditional knowledge. I looked at Indian villages again. I studied how families shared courtyards and fire spaces, how public and private life coexisted naturally. That became the foundation for the Republic Lab: to reimagine cities as networks of communities rather than grids of buildings.
IA: If you had to condense your architectural ideology into one guiding principle for the next generation of architects, what would it be?
RY: Every culture has its own architectural wisdom, which comes from a time before modernisation. My advice is that you should learn from the past. Study your culture’s own traditions of living together, and bring them forward.
Don’t imitate. Adapt. Innovate within the wisdom of your own people. Use that foundation to create something meaningful for today.
IA: Lastly, what are your thoughts on NASA India and student-led organisations in architecture?
RY: India is not one country — it has many local cultures. That is a great strength. Student organisations like NASA India are powerful because they allow young architects to explore this diversity.

You are building not just walls and windows, but cultural futures. And to do that well, you must begin by respecting local communities. I always say: India is a republic of local areas. If you can design for the local well, you are already designing for the world.



By Nikitha Audrey D’Souza, Sneha Ann Thomas & Priy Ranjan Yadav
IA : As a former NASA India Council President and now a Senior Associate at COOKFOX Architects, how did your journey with NASA India begin, and in what ways has it shaped your path as an architect?
ASW : I got into architecture in 1992 and was fortunate to study at Rizvi College of Architecture in Bombay, one of the five new colleges at the time. Our founding principal, Prof. Akhtar Chauhan, an early pioneer at NASA, played a major role in shaping those initial years. Just 10 days into college, we attended ZONASA at CEPT Ahmedabad, and by 1994, we became full NASA members at the Roorkee convention. A year later in Nagpur, I ran for President and won, something I never imagined when I first joined. Back then, no one even knew our college, so it was a proud moment to be recognized nationally. The following year, at the SPA Delhi convention, the attendance jumped from 1,600 to over 3,500 students, and from there, NASA grew rapidly. By the time I finished my presidency in 1998, we had grown to 73 colleges. Today, it’s over 350, with more than 65,000 students.
We wanted to end our student journey by hosting a NASA convention. Despite having thesis and internships ahead, we placed a bid and won the opportunity to host it in Bombay. Though having setbacks, including losing our accommodation venue just a month before, we pulled it off, thanks to incredible teamwork and alumni support. What I gained from NASA helped me later in life, not only in architecture but also in the leadership roles I’ve taken on at national and global levels, such as within the Zoroastrian community.Those early learning experiences played a big role
What stayed with me most was the sense of belonging, realizing we weren’t just 40 students in one class, but part of a much larger creative network. That exposure brought healthy competition, new ideas, and lifelong connections. NASA had its challenges, like limited documentation and a small Executive Council, but it taught us resilience. Today, with tools like social media, it’s great to see NASA thriving. It’s a unique and powerful platform that needs to be preserved and nurtured.
“EVERY PROJECT STARTS WITH LISTENING — WHETHER IT’S TO THE COMMUNITY, THE CLIENT, OR THE SITE ITSELF.”



IA : What were the defining moments that kept you inspired during your time at NASA?
ASW : We were an amazing group of people, and NASA became a platform where we understood that it was bigger than any of us. It was bigger than our individual grades or designs. We realized that to excel, we had to excel together as a group and perform at the NASA stage. Everything became competitive in that context.
Whether it was attending conventions, going on site trips, or competing for awards like the GSEN, Louis Kahn, or Nari Gandhi, we all shared a common understanding. What we were doing as a team was not only about putting our college on the map, but it was also about something much larger than the individual. This mindset drove us and became ingrained in the batches that followed.
There were students who, academically, seemed disengaged even though they were brilliant when they applied themselves. But they never fully put in their best effort. However, when it came to NASA, they truly shined. They did incredible work, and that’s where their real talent came through. That, in essence, is what NASA meant to all of us. And hosting the convention was probably the crowning achievement of it all of us.
One memorable experience was when we were heading to the Roorkee convention with about five or six colleges. The train was only stopping for five minutes at a station, possibly Dehradun, and we had over 300 students onboard with luggages and not enough time to get off. Someone came up with the idea of having all the girls sit on the tracks in front of the train engine, figuring that no one would dare to move the train with them there. It was a creative solution, and those moments became some of the most defining memories of the experience.
There were rivalries for instance, between Bombay colleges and those from the North. We would get into slogan-chanting battles, each side trying to outsmart the other. But beneath all that energy was a strong drive to do well in the trophies. Those moments, filled with competition and camaraderie, really became defining experiences. In many ways, they capture what NASA meant to me and to so many of us who were part of it.
IA : With the diverse skill set you have developed over the years, including expertise in technology and software like CAD, BIM, 3D printing, and digital media, how do you think NASA has influenced the growth of these skills?
ASW: Even during my final year thesis, I relied entirely on hand drawings. CAD was available, and during the NASA convention in Nagpur, there was a buzz when we submitted CAD drawings for the Louis I. Kahn Trophy. It was one of the first times anyone had done that. Since Professor Yatin Pandya, who reviewed the brief each year, had no objections, we went ahead and embraced the technology. Our entry was on Watson’s Hotel in Bombay. We spent weeks doing measured drawings and then translated everything into CAD to present at the convention. While I wasn’t directly part of the design team, I was the Unit Secretary of my college and was closely involved. That experience made me realize my genuine interest in technology, from AutoCAD to the early version of 3D Studio.
I got my first job on campus as a night-shift lab technician at the architecture school. Since I was already up late working on assignments, it made sense to get paid while surrounded by great equipment. That’s where I really learned software. It started as a helpful tool, but I soon realized it was just that—a tool. Whether using pencils or digital lines, the goal remains the same: to become a better designer and create better designs.
Walking through the trophy halls at NASA conventions was another kind of education. You would see forty or fifty colleges competing on the same topics, whether it was the G-Sen, Nari Gandhi, or Louis Kahn. You were exposed to a range of design sensibilities and styles. The same brief was interpreted in so many different ways. It opened your eyes to how differently a single problem could be solved. You also learned how others presented their ideas and processes. That exposure stayed with me.
When I graduated from Pratt, the industry had fully transitioned to computers. I saw how they shifted from aiding drafting to influencing design itself.
Architecture started focusing more on how good things looked on paper rather than how well they could actually be built. But quality must be preserved. The computer should help express your ideas more clearly. It should support design, not dictate it. Good software or polished graphics cannot fix a weak concept. Strong design thinking is still the foundation
The next major shift came with the transition from AutoCAD to BIM. I adopted BIM in the mid2000s and soon realized that to use it effectively, you need to understand how buildings are actually built. In AutoCAD, you could draw anything, even if it made no structural sense. But with BIM, you have to know how a wall is constructed, how a window fits into that wall, how the roof joins it, and how materials come together. These are no longer abstract lines but real components with real implications.
Today, many graduates are fluent in software but lack a basic understanding of construction. Often, we have to help them unlearn some things and send them to the site so they can see how buildings come together in reality. The good thing is that BIM enforces a certain discipline. It demands accuracy and forces you to think through how different systems interact. That is where technology is truly helping architecture. It ensures that what we design is not just visually compelling, but also possible to build.

IA :Architecture students often feel unprepared for the industry, unsure of where to start or how to gain exposure. How does NASA India help bridge this gap by connecting students with professionals and industry experts?
ASW: Real-life experience on a construction site is absolutely essential. Yet, both in India and the United States, architectural education remains too focused on the classroom with limited exposure to actual building sites.
Architecture is a five-year program, which is longer and more expensive than most engineering degrees. It is important that this time includes more practical, hands-on learning. Although there is a semester dedicated to professional practice, most students end up in office environments doing work similar to what they did in college. Some may benefit from mentorship through direct interactions with firm principals, but without time on a construction site, a critical part of learning is lost.
NASA has a strong and widespread network. Almost every architect in India has been involved with NASA in some way. If NASA could use this network to create opportunities for students to intern not only in offices but also on construction sites, the benefits would be substantial.
From what I have seen, NASA now organizes international workshops with student visits to colleges abroad, which is impressive.
However, there is also potential to do something similar to what Habitat for Humanity once did. That initiative eventually gave rise to Architecture for Humanity.
I would love to see individual colleges or NASA zones take on real-world projects. For example, students could design and build a school over a few weeks during summer, in partnership with local governments or nonprofit organizations.
These hands-on experiences would significantly strengthen architectural education. This is an area where NASA could make a lasting impact by using its existing community and resources more effectively.


IA : Building on that, many architecture students wonder whether extracurricular involvement can truly impact their future careers. Given NASA India’s extensive network and industry exposure, do you think participation in NASA can improve career opportunities after graduation?
ASW: That has always been the question, even when I was a student. In our batch of 40, about half were deeply involved with NASA, while the rest stayed on the sidelines, often asking, “What am I getting out of this?”
NASA needs to communicate clearly that it is not just a social gathering. I remember professors saying, “You are just going there for fun. Why should I shift deadlines for that?” We had to push back against that perception, and I believe that challenge still exists.
The narrative needs to change. This calls for a strong communication and marketing strategy. Instead of highlighting entertainment and social events, we should emphasize the professional and intellectual value these conventions offer. When a trophy brief is released, the convention becomes a showcase of solutions, sometimes over a hundred entries—each offering a unique approach. Students attending these events get exposed to a wide range of ideas, which is a rare opportunity. Along with this, there are talks, keynotes, panels, and workshops that provide incredible educational value.
All of this is already happening, but the message often gets lost. Even 30 years ago, we faced the same doubts. Students still ask, “Why should I spend time on NASA activities?” or “Will this help me get a better job?” These questions might never fully go away, and not everyone will be convinced. But if even half the students understand the deeper value, that’s a big win. NASA needs to make it clear that attending a convention at your own time and cost offers access to things you won’t get elsewhere. You will hear from leading voices in the field, engage in direct conversations, and see some of the best student work from across the country.
NASA should be positioned as something that complements classroom learning. While college syllabi often leave gaps, NASA fills those by providing exposure to different perspectives and meaningful conversations. These experiences play a key role in shaping young architects.
If students ask about the direct return—like salaries or job offers—it’s hard to give a straight answer. That should not be the focus. The real takeaway is the experience itself. Over time, students who were unsure begin to see the difference. We saw it in our own batch. So, I wouldn’t worry too much about quantifying what NASA will provide in terms of better job prospects or career advancement. Trying to measure that is difficult, and I think it misses the point. Ultimately, it’s an experience, and the value lies in what you take from it.

IA: Do you think master’s degree and international education provides a significant edge, or can architects achieve the same growth through experience and local opportunities?
ASW : I believe foreign education can be valuable, but it is not essential. If you have the means and the opportunity, take it ; but be clear about your end goal. In my final year, I interned in Austria and spent one day a week on-site. That’s when I realized how much I didn’t know. I attended lectures and heard from incredible architects, but the experience made me see the gaps in my knowledge. That clarity led me to New York.
But today, the landscape has changed. With tools like Google Maps and abundant online resources, you can explore cities and learn from anywhere. While experience still matters, you can gain exposure without physically being abroad. So no, a master’s degree from a foreign university isn’t absolutely necessary. There are also real practical concerns. When people ask me where their children should study in the U.S., I usually ask them directly what their goal is. Many want to know about jobs, H1B visas, and staying back afterward. And while I don’t discourage them, I hesitate to say a blanket yes.
I’ve seen friends invest in degrees abroad, only to leave due to immigration challenges. They returned home with loans and unmet expectations. It’s hard to come back without having achieved what you set out to do, whether that was working abroad or settling down. If you pursue a master’s, do it with clarity. Are you filling in gaps from undergrad? Are you interested in something specific like sustainability, building science, or heritage? Then a focused program might make sense. And if you’re considering staying abroad, plan for what happens if things don’t work out. What’s your next move?
That said, travel is one of the best investments you can make. If possible, take time to backpack and explore. Study tours exist for this reason. Reading about a building is one thing, walking through it is another.
When I visited Fallingwater, I was surprised by how small it was. Photos make it seem grand, but in person, the ceilings are low, designed for people who were just over five feet tall. It’s these details, things you don’t get from books that make firsthand experiences so powerful.
IA : Having studied in both India and the West, you have experienced different approaches to education. So what differences do you see between the two? And if you were to establish your own institution, what fundamental aspects would you focus on to bridge the gap and improve architecture education in India?
ASW : From what I’ve seen, the biggest difference between working in India and the West—especially the U.S.—comes down to professionalism and communication across all levels, from architects to contractors to laborers. In the U.S., there’s a standard of professionalism that makes everything flow more smoothly. In India, while there’s a lot of creativity and fewer restrictions in terms of design, the execution often suffers because there’s a huge gap in how information is transferred from the drawing board to the people actually building it.
I remember learning about wooden trusses from textbooks written almost a hundred years ago— things I never actually saw being used in real practice. Meanwhile, newer construction techniques were never even mentioned. That disconnection frustrated me because we were being taught things that had no relevance to current industry standards.
If I were to start an architecture school in India, I’d focus on flexibility. The curriculum should be dynamic; adaptable to changing technologies, tools, and materials. Faculty should have the freedom to teach what’s relevant today, not just follow a rigid syllabus. I’d also push for more real-world exposure early on, with a strong emphasis on professionalism and communication. My goal would be to close the gap between academia and practice, so students graduate not only with technical know-how but also with the mindset and vocabulary needed to thrive anywhere in the world.
IA : When you returned to your alma mater as a lecturer in 1997, having experienced both sides— first as a student and later as a professor—was there anything you wished you had known as a student?
ASW: When I briefly returned to teach at my alma mater before moving to the U.S., I became aware of just how outdated the curriculum really was. I saw students spending weeks studying wooden truss structures that were already obsolete even when I was in college while more modern systems like curtain wall installation or modular construction weren’t even discussed.
The problem is, semesters are short, and teachers don’t have the flexibility to stray from the syllabus. I believe that while it’s important to teach fundamentals, we also need room to bring in contemporary tools, systems, and ideas. Technology in our profession evolves so fast, and the syllabus needs to evolve with it. Otherwise, we’re sending students out into the field with just 60% of the knowledge they actually need.
The people designing these syllabi also need to stay up to date. Architecture isn’t static, so our education shouldn’t be either. I want students to leave school not just with drawings and theories, but with experience-based understanding and knowing how to talk about their work, apply it, and keep learning beyond graduation. That’s what will make architecture education meaningful and prepare them for the real world.

IA : You have been part of global projects ranging from the Bank of America Tower to the restoration of the 12th-century Abtei Seckau and the masterplan guidelines for the Ground Zero site after 9/11—each covering vastly different facets of architecture.
Through these experiences, what do you believe is the larger purpose of architecture beyond aesthetics and functionality?
ASW: To me, architecture is the art and science of the built environment—and the magic happens when those two parts are in balance. I’ve worked on very different types of projects, and each has shown me a different facet of what architecture can do.
At Ground Zero, for example, the task was less about designing a building and more about setting the emotional and urban framework for a place with deep historical trauma. We developed guidelines for what would eventually be built there, but due to politics, only about 20% of our ideas were implemented. It was humbling it reminded me that architecture doesn’t always have the final say.
On the other hand, the Bank of America Tower was a chance to follow a project from beginning to end. Every decision we made from not including parking to installing advanced air systems was driven by sustainability and human well-being. It wasn’t just about the structure; it was about how people would feel in the building, how it would impact the environment, and how it could serve a larger urban agenda.
That’s when I realized architecture, when done right, can truly shape lives. It’s not just about form or façade. It’s about purpose, empathy, and responsibility. That’s the kind of work I want to keep doing projects that go beyond aesthetics and make a lasting, positive impact on people and places.
IA : Your projects, from the South Street Seaport to the Visitors Center at the Angkor Hospital for Children and the One Congress Street competition, span diverse contexts and cultural landscapes. How do you approach the design process when working on such varied projects? Do you have a core philosophy or methodology that guides your work across different regions and typologies?
ASW : Working at CookFox Architects, I’ve had the privilege of being part of some incredible teamdriven projects across very different contexts—from New York to Cambodia. One thing I’ve learned is that each new project challenges your assumptions. There’s a lot of unlearning and relearning involved.
Take the South Street Seaport project, for example. We had to convert 200-year-old ice storage buildings into residences without compromising their historic character. It was a delicate process and every intervention had to be thoughtful and subtle.
Then there was the Visitor Center for the Angkor Hospital in Cambodia. That one was particularly meaningful. The brief was to create a space that eased the burden on doctors by educating and engaging visitors. We had to understand the local culture deeply.
For instance, water is a very important symbol there, and that became central to our design story. What I’ve realized is that every project starts with listening whether it’s to the community, the client, or the site itself. You can’t come in with a fixed style or ego. You have to respond to context, to needs, to people. My design philosophy is rooted in flexibility and humility. Good architecture, to me, is always about place, purpose, and people.
Then there was the Visitor Center for the Angkor Hospital in Cambodia. That one was particularly meaningful. The brief was to create a space that eased the burden on doctors by educating and engaging visitors. We had to understand the local culture deeply. For instance, water is a very important symbol there, and that became central to our design story.
What I’ve realized is that every project starts with listening whether it’s to the community, the client, or the site itself. You can’t come in with a fixed style or ego. You have to respond to context, to needs, to people. My design philosophy is rooted in flexibility and humility. Good architecture, to me, is always about place, purpose, and people.




By Nikitha Audrey D’Souza, Pratha Sharma & Pranesh RU
Meet Shashank Bhoopathi an architect, ISRO Space tutor and creative force who defies the linear narrative of a conventional career path. With roots in design and a spirit that thrives on exploration, Shashank’s journey has led him through studios, stages, and stories that stretch far beyond the drafting table. His work delves into the intersections of space architecture and ancient technologies, weaving forgotten knowledge systems with futuristic imagination. Whether it’s rethinking how we inhabit Earth or beyond or reshaping the way we remember our past, Shashank’s practice reflects a deep
GEOMETRY ISN’T SYMBOLIC. IT’S FUNCTIONAL. IT RESONATES WITH THE FREQUENCIES OF LIFE ITSELF.




IA: You’ve taken a path that’s quite distinct from the traditional architectural trajectory. What led you to diverge from convention, and how did you navigate the uncertainties it came with.
SB: As a child, I was completely captivated by the stars. I have early memories of driving with my parents and watching the moon follow us. That simple moment sparked a curiosity that never faded. I always believed I’d end up studying aerospace engineering. But the universe had other ideas. I found myself in architecture, almost by accident. Yet, looking back, I don’t see it as a detour, I see it as alignment. Maybe the universe knew I needed to be in a more creative space, quite literally.
What I held onto was that childhood wonder, that fascination with the cosmos. Throughout my five years in architecture school, I kept connecting what I was learning to what I had once dreamt of. Slowly, my design language evolved. I began moving from conventional forms toward what I now call futuristic architecture a language shaped by the same forces that govern our universe. Honestly, I never really saw these shifts as uncertainties. I saw them as patterns part of a larger design.
Think about it this way: if the universe is a simulation, like a digital game say PUBG or any simulation coded in Python or C then it must have a language and I believe that language is mathematics and geometry. Everything in creation follows geometry. Look at nature, the way cells vibrate, the way plants grow, the way galaxies spiral it’s all encoded in patterns. What I’m most interested in is sacred geometry. To me, it’s the purest form of design. It’s not just symbolic, it’s functional. It resonates with the frequencies of life itself.
We actually tested this idea in an experiment. We created a geometrical pattern meant to replicate a natural magnetic field and used it in a plant growth study. We took two identical coriander plants in identical conditions except one was exposed to that specific magnetic field. The results were fascinating. The plant in the field grew almost four times faster.
That moment validated something for me: when your design aligns with the fundamental patterns of the universe, it doesn’t just exist it activates. It interacts. It influences life at the cellular level. We’re now applying that same thinking to circuit boards moving away from rigid, linear designs and seeing how geometry can make them more efficient and energy-responsive.
For me, there were never doubts. Just discoveries. I wasn’t questioning the path I was following the pattern. When you align with the geometry of the universe, you stop wondering if you’re on the right track. You start realizing the track is revealing itself to you, step by step.
IA: Your practice sits at the intersection of myth and the cosmos. Do you ever feel torn between the rationality of science and the poetry of storytelling? How do you balance those energies in your designs?
SB: I don’t see myth and science as opposites at all. To me, myth isn’t just a story, it’s encoded energy, symbolic physics. That’s how I perceive it. That’s why I never choose between poetry and precision. I bring them together consciously or subconsciously in everything I do.
There’s a statement by Nikola Tesla that completely shaped my thinking: “If you want to understand the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration.” That line didn’t just stay with me it became a lens through which I started seeing the world.
What if our cities didn’t rely on fossil fuels or solar panels? What if we could tap into the Earth’s natural electromagnetic field and translate it into usable energy? Imagine entire urban systems, transportation, appliances, industries, all powered
not by consumption, but by resonance. That’s not science fiction to me. That’s the direction. A vision rooted in geometry and the language of the universe.
When I design, I think in terms of sacred geometry - scalable, functional, vibrational. These aren’t just patterns; they are living systems. Templates that can energize, heal, and transform. That’s where I believe we’re heading to a time where myth becomes math, and cities become breathing organisms.
IA: As Telangana’s first ISRO Space Tutor, how has teaching and mentoring young minds helped you rediscover your own passion for the field?
SB: I truly believe that shaping young minds must begin early. I was a curious child myself—always asking questions. My father never dismissed those questions. He didn’t always know the answers, but he made the effort to explain it to me. I remember this one time—he used a lamp and two balls to show me how an eclipse works. That simple moment left a lasting imprint. That’s why I try to pass on curiosity, imagination, and the tools to visualize the unseen.
When I applied to become a registered space tutor under ISRO, I was very clear that I didn’t want to dive straight into equations and propulsion systems. I wanted to begin with wonder.

Most school students to engineering graduates are fascinated by space. But they don’t always know how to reach it. I was one of them. That’s why I’ve worked so hard to explore what it means for an architect to reach space. People say it’s impossible. I say I’ll build my own spacecraft.
That dream is still alive. Through workshops, I want to pass it on not just as knowledge, but as something living. Something that grows in the next generation. We’ve hosted several workshops based on Sacred Geometry and Space Architecture. There’s one particular exercise that still stands out to me. We gave each student a specific sound frequency. Asked them to sit quietly, eyes closed, and just visualize. Then we asked them to draw seven patterns they saw in their mind.
What we found was extraordinary: almost 90 to 95 percent of the patterns were the same. Think about that. Dozens of people, sitting separately, listening to different frequencies, visualizing alone and yet they drew nearly identical forms. That’s not a coincidence. That’s the resonance. That’s proof that vibration creates form.
Now imagine designing buildings, systems, cities, entire ecosystems that are tuned to those frequencies. What kind of spaces would we create? What kind of people would we become within them? That’s what I call cosmic architecture. It’s not just about building structures in space. It’s about building with the consciousness of space.
IA: Your background in architecture and founding the Ancient Technologies Design Research Lab both emphasise learning from the past. How did your architectural studies guide your interest in ancient design and eventually space tech?
SB: It started with a fascination first with the stars, then with structure. Originally, I wanted to study aerospace engineering. That was the path I imagined for myself. But life nudged me toward architecture. In hindsight, it made perfect sense. Both my parents are artists, so I grew up surrounded by creativity. I was always drawing, always building stories in my mind. I suppose that artistic instinct was in my DNA.
I realized early on that I could close my eyes and visualize a structure in 3D, rotate it, break it down, assemble it again almost like digital modeling, but in my mind. That’s something I believe we all have in us. But the real difference comes in learning how to translate those internal visuals into physical form. That’s where architecture became my language.
I’m from Warangal, which was the capital of the Kakatiya dynasty. We have monuments there that still stand as masterclasses in geometry and precision. The Thousand Pillar Temple, in particular, had a huge influence on me. The first time I really saw it, consciously I felt something shift. It wasn’t just architecture. It was geometry, vibration, and intention carved in stone. It made me wonder why aren’t we looking at these ancient technologies through the lens of space-age innovation?
We’re using advanced materials like titanium and carbon fiber today to build satellites and space habitats. But these temple structures, carved centuries ago in stone, have survived time, climate, and even tectonic shifts. What if we reimagined those same principles for space? What if stone, integrated with modern composites, could be fabricated into space-grade structures? It’s sustainable. It’s durable. Maybe it’s energetically intelligent. Cymatics plays a huge role in this thinking. It’s the visual expression of sound geometry created through vibration. When you look at the ceilings of our ancient temples, especially at the Thousand Pillar Temple, those patterns aren’t just decorative. They’re harmonic. They respond to space, to energy, to the body.

When we design with those sacred geometries already aligned with nature we aren’t just constructing walls. We’re building resonance chambers. Imagine a space habitat that doesn’t just protect against radiation but actually harmonizes with the occupant’s energy. That’s the level of integration I believe is possible when we connect the past with the future.
India has already proven its capabilities in affordable, innovative space exploration. Now, if we reinterpret our architectural heritage through the lens of scientific advancement, if we stop seeing cymatics, geometry, and materials as separate disciplines and instead start treating them as one unified system we can redefine what space living means altogether.
IA: You build for the planets we haven’t landed on yet. How do you explain the importance of such speculative design to skeptics?
SB: When we talk about space, most people jump straight to the idea of building homes or entire cities. But right now, what we need more urgently and practically are research labs. We’re not at the stage of colonizing space, we’re at the stage of creating controlled environments where we can conduct critical experiments that aren’t possible on Earth.
We already have the data. We understand the terrain, the atmosphere, and physics. The limitation isn’t knowledge, it’s infrastructure. This applies to agriculture too. I mentioned our experiment with plant growth using a magnetically influenced geometry. Now, we’re taking that experiment a step further. We’re currently building a small satellite, completely in-house at ATDRL Pvt.Ltd. , that will carry this research module into space. The idea is to observe how plants grow under the same geometric magnetic field, but in zero gravity. If we see accelerated growth or any fundamentally different responses, we’ll publish the data and expand the frontier of what we know.
The beauty of this is that it doesn’t require massive infrastructure or billion-dollar investments. Just a compact lab module, with maybe one or two astronauts to oversee it. It’s a minimal, high-impact approach that is what space architecture should be aiming for right now.

We’re not trying to move the whole of civilization into space not yet. What we need are bridges. Small, efficient, self-contained labs on the Moon or in orbit, that can lead to breakthroughs in medicine, agriculture, and sustainable living. That’s how we create relevance by connecting space to Earth’s needs. Geometry plays a vital role in all of this. A structure that’s designed with the right geometry can land safely, without heavy propulsion systems. That makes it more cost-effective, easier to deploy, and more accessible to everyone.
This is where I think the real strength of design lies, not in dreaming beyond reach, but in bringing the future closer. Making it practical, affordable and meaningful for the world we live in.
IA: If passion and purpose were two people, how would they talk to each other in your work?
SB: That’s a really meaningful question and I’d say, my passion points me to the stars. Quite literally. I’ve always been drawn toward the cosmos, the unknown, the questions that begin with “where am I?” and “what’s out there?” For me, space isn’t just a destination, it’s a state of curiosity. But passion alone isn’t enough. You can reach for the stars, but what are you building while you’re here on Earth? That’s where purpose comes in.
Even if I had all the money in the world, I wouldn’t feel fulfilled unless I could answer those fundamental questions about our existence. That curiosity has always driven me. Over time, I realized that my purpose is to design infrastructure that is in harmony with the universe, with nature and ourselves. I believe each of us has a unique role in the universe. When I started questioning my own existence, why I was here, what I was meant to do things slowly began to align. Geometry started to make sense. Patterns revealed themselves. I began to see that architecture isn’t just about constructing buildings; it’s about tuning into natural frequencies and creating environments that can heal, support, and elevate life.
I envision a future maybe by 2050 where cities no longer need hospitals. Where each home functions as a healing module. Where sacred geometry, copper-infused structures, and harmonic design aren’t just ideas they’re embedded into the very materials and layouts of our homes. Spaces that don’t just shelter us, but restore us. That’s not utopian to me. That’s nature-informed architecture.
Some people follow science, some follow art. Architecture is where those two meet. It’s the only field that lets a curious soul explore, build, experiment and then make it tangible. If I had pursued only physics, I might have remained trapped in theory. But architecture gave me a canvas. It gave me a language to turn questions into spaces and spaces into systems for the future. When your passion and purpose are aligned, you don’t face existential crises. You don’t feel lost. You move in rhythm. You operate in frequency.
And for me, everything I do, every structure I imagine, every detail I explore always comes back to the fundamental laws of physics, geometry, and nature.
IA:Was there a specific moment or project that redefined what “purpose” meant to you as an architect?
SB: Yes, The Kailasa Temple in Ellora is one of the most extraordinary architectural wonders I know. It’s carved entirely out of a single rock. Even today, with all our modern machinery and precision tools, creating something like that would take over a hundred years. Yet, it is believed to have been completed in just eighteen.
That temple changed everything for me. I started asking how did they do it? What kind of intelligence or technology could have made that possible? I don’t believe it was just human effort. There had to be something more, some kind of superintelligence, or perhaps a technology that was deeply rooted in nature’s own laws and forces. That’s when the idea of sound as a tool came to me. I started thinking about cymatics, the study of how sound creates patterns in matter. What if certain frequencies could affect physical material at a structural level? What if sound could melt stone?
There are ancient theories, and even modern researchers now, who are exploring the idea that resonance when precisely focused can cause real physical transformation. Just imagine: if you place a hundred massive drums in a perfect circular arrangement and strike them at the same frequency, what happens to the energy at the center?

I believe the ancients knew this. That sound, vibration, and energy were their tools, not just chisels and hammers. We often say architecture is about form and function. But to me, it’s also about frequency. When we begin to understand that when we start tuning ourselves to that deeper truth when passion reaches the stars and purpose builds the ladder we begin to create something that’s truly timeless.
IA: We often talk about ‘thinking outside the box.’ But do you think the ‘box’—the studio, the screen, the syllabus—has value too?
SB: That’s a really fascinating question. See, I think it depends entirely on the individual. For me, thinking outside the box wasn’t just an option, it was a necessity. I chose a path that didn’t exist yet. I knew where I wanted to go, and I had to build the road myself.
Even in college, I proposed a space architecture thesis. But people around me pushed back and said it was too much, too abstract, too soon. So I shifted and designed a Science City for my thesis. But even then, my mind was orbiting stars. I worked during my internship on realworld space problems. One of the projects I contributed to was eventually launched. Now, with ATDRL Pvt.Ltd. we’re going further. We’re combining geometry not the symbolic kind, but the fundamental geometry of the universe. Why make things harder than they need to be? Nature has already given us the code. We need to pay attention. I always tell students: think outside the box, yes but never stop being curious. Stay a student forever. There’s so much out there. Show someone the cosmic scale, let them see how small we are in the grand scheme of things. Maybe then, we’ll begin to ask better questions, design better systems, and build with greater intention.
Architecture gave me the tools to begin that search. Clearly architecture is not just about buildings. It’s not limited to concrete and steel. The entire universe is built on architecture. We’ve just reduced it to structures. Ancient civilizations built wonders like temples, pyramids, monuments and we still don’t fully understand their purpose. There are hundreds of theories, but no one knows
for sure. That’s architecture. That’s the mystery and beauty of it. When we start to see architecture not as walls and roofs, but as a way of understanding the world, everything begins to shift.
A dot is architecture. A line. A waveform. The phone you’re holding. The clothes you wear. The rings on your fingers. The way you speak. The way you move. Everything is architecture, because everything has been shaped. Whether it’s a potter at the wheel, an electrician wiring a circuit, or a scientist building something from scratch they’re all architects in their own right. Creation is architecture.
IA: If architecture and space architecture wasn’t your profession and things didn’t work out like the path that you had in mind, would your worldview still remain unshaken and your belief?
SB: Definitely. I’ve always said that if I can design a habitat in space with strength, resilience, and adaptability then I can design my life the same way. So even if architecture or space architecture hadn’t worked out, my core belief system and the process that brought me here would remain unshaken. If not this path, maybe I’d be a schoolteacher or an inventor, trying to solve local problems on a city scale. But I’d still be creating. I’d still be curious. No regrets because that drive to build, to imagine, would still be there.
If I wasn’t the one building, I’d make sure to guide the next generation to do it. Someone has to open doors and show that the possibilities exist. That’s what we’re working toward. What we pass on, our ideas and intentions, that’s even more powerful than the work itself. When you start doing something for that kind of cause, the universe begins to support you. That’s how I’ve always felt. The universe speaks through time. Time speaks through feeling. When your direction is right, the signals start to align. The knowledge I want to pass on isn’t for personal gain. It’s for the sustainability of nature. We need to truly design for a greater cause, then your work will have the power to save lives. Right now at ATDRL Pvt.Ltd. , we’re working on a grid-based city infrastructure system that operates on origami principles. We want to build expandable cylinders that deploy in emergencies. You look at conflict zones and you realize how much this world needs
systems that protect rather than destroy. The world was not meant for war, it is for everyone. Energy, shelter, access should be fundamental rights. Not privileges.If energy were free, if every home and vehicle were sustainable, there would be no rich and poor. No reason to fight. What are wars born from? Ego. Arrogance. A sense of false ownership. The Earth should be treated like a unified organism. A seamlessly connected system of cities and ecosystems, all designed sustainably and equitably for generations to come. It’s just a thought. But thoughts are powerful. We’re not doing this just to do it. We’re doing it because the idea exists and it matters.
IA: Those moments of feelings disconnected from architecture, unsure of their place. What would you say to someone going through that? Are there any ways of thinking or questions that might help them reconnect with their purpose?
SB: If someone is feeling disconnected from architecture , if they’re bored, uninterested I’d say, let them be in that stage. Don’t push them. You can’t force understanding. People come to realizations at the right time in their lives. You just have to create the right environment around them. Don’t put up a presentation in front of them and expect them to suddenly get it. Let them be where they are. But start laying a path around them drop in thoughts, conversations, little elements that might eventually connect. Something that clicks. A sentence, an image, a question that makes them pause, makes them think. The key is to make them curious.
That kind of subtle interaction is important. Real connection. We need more of that conversations between students and practitioners, or even between students and philosophers. I believe architecture needs a deeper layer of philosophy right now. Of course, I respect all the existing philosophies about light, material, form. But I feel like we need something more. Something elemental.
“

IMAGINE A SPACE HABITAT THAT DOESN’T JUST PROTECT AGAINST RADIATION , BUT ACTUALLY HARMONIZES WITH THE OCCUPANT’S ENERGY.”




BY SIMRAN TAJ HUBBALLI
As you walk through the streets of Mumbai’s Dadar market or Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk, you witness an ecosystem that thrives outside formal design interventions. A vegetable vendor sets up shop on the pavement, gradually carving out a familiar corner of urban life. In Kolkata, handpainted signs guide residents through the labyrinthine alleys, and in Bengaluru, local activists reclaim abandoned spaces, transforming them
into thriving community hubs. These silent architects, street vendors, community artists, and ordinary citizens play an undeniable role in shaping the urban fabric of Indian cities, often adapting to constraints in ways that formal planners and architects overlook.
Despite their invisibility in official records, these informal interventions hold the power to define how cities function. Through necessity-driven improvisation, these everyday actors solve pressing urban challenges related to accessibility, mobility, and public engagement, making Indian cities vibrant and ever-evolving spaces.

While global cities boast of graffiti as cultural expressions, India’s wall art serves as a more functional and political medium. The city walls of Delhi, Kolkata, and Chennai are canvases for everything from political statements to advertisements for local businesses. Mumbai’s Mahim Art District and Lodhi Art District in Delhi showcase how street art rejuvenates neglected areas while building a distinct neighborhood identity.
Grassroots wayfinding is another vital but overlooked contribution. In the crowded lanes of Hyderabad’s Charminar, hand-painted signs

serve as essential navigation tools, often more effective than official signage. Similarly, in Varanasi, ghats are marked with DIY signs directing pilgrims and tourists alike.
In his book Informal Urban Street Markets: International Perspectives, Michael Donovan discusses how informal wayfinding and public expressions shape user experiences in dense cities. India’s urban corridors exemplify this, where a mix of grassroots signage and collective memory ensures seamless navigation through unplanned settlements.
India has seen a rise in tactical urbanism smallscale, community-driven projects that reclaim urban spaces. The Indian, a citizen-led initiative, focuses on reviving neglected public spaces through crowd-funded street clean-ups and painting drives. Similarly, Mumbai’s Khau Gallis (eat streets) and Delhi’s Sunday cycling streets show how residents reclaim spaces for communal purposes beyond their original intent.
“Where faith meets expression: the ghats of Varanasi become urban canvases, blending wayfinding, art, and activism in a uniquely Indian syntax.”
According to a 2014 study by the National Association of Street Vendors of India (NASVI), nearly 10 million street vendors operate in Indian cities, adapting urban spaces for their livelihoods.
In Mumbai’s Crawford Market, vendors transform roadsides into dynamic, shifting spaces of commerce, often serving as waypoints for pedestrians and public transport users. This organic adaptation enhances the usability of
urban spaces, creating informal plazas and gathering points in dense urban environments. In his book Cities in Asia by and for the People, Yves Cabannes highlights how street vendors contribute to the economic and spatial dynamics of cities. In India, rather than obstructing urban planning, these vendors shape pedestrian flow, define microeconomics, and provide services that formal planning often neglects.

“Citymakers without blueprints: street vendors carve micro-economies
into the urban fabric, one stall, one pause point at a time.”
Indian cities have a long history of self-built settlements, with places like Dharavi in Mumbai, Govindpuri in Delhi, and Anand Nagar in Pune showcasing resilience and ingenuity. These settlements function as living laboratories of incremental architecture, where residents construct homes and neighborhoods based on immediate needs, available materials, and financial capacity.
Architect and urban theorist Rahul Mehrotra, in Ephemeral Urbanism: Does Permanence Matter?, describes how India’s informal settlements embody an urbanism that is fluid and adaptive, responding to economic shifts, migration patterns, and cultural shifts. These spaces demonstrate a parallel urbanism that coexists alongside formal planning, often filling gaps left by governmental oversight.
Architects and planners can learn from informal urban practices rather than seeing them as anomalies. In The Architecture of Informality: How Buildings and People Can Coexist in Cities, Ananya Roy argues that informal settlements should not be seen as illegal but as vital components of the city’s ecosystem. Indian architects like Charles Correa have long advocated for incremental housing models that blend planned infrastructure with organic growth.
Learning from Indian Case Studies
- Dharavi Redevelopment: While formal plans sought to replace Dharavi’s fabric with high-rises, urbanists like Matias Echanove and Rahul Srivastava of the URBZ collective have proposed upgrading existing structures while preserving the neighborhood’s organic growth.
Ahmedabad’s Night Markets: Instead of removing informal vendors, the city has designed pedestrian-friendly night markets that formalize street commerce without displacing livelihoods.
Future Indian cities are shaped not just by planners and architects but by the ingenuity of everyday citizens. Recognizing and integrating informal urbanism into formal planning frameworks will allow for more inclusive, responsive cities. Instead of enforcing top-down regulations, urban design must acknowledge the contributions of these silent architects, fostering a future where formal and informal urban practices work in tandem.

“Beyond masterplans, it’s the rhythm of footsteps, vendor calls, and collective memory that shapes India’s historic urban marketplaces.”
Written


BY PRANESH R U

The word “activism” has been getting a flurry of bad press of late. When activism is mentioned, what comes to mind? Making a concerted effort to educate people on a particular issue? No? Sadly, the public views it as a lost cause, something taken up by entitled people with too much time on their hands. But what does activism really mean in today’s day and age?
Architects often complain that not many are aware of the intricacies of this profession and why we form an essential strata of society. We are still viewed as an elitist and urban profession. The reaction to this is not in the form of policy but an attempt to further secure the architect’s foothold in the field. We fear losing out to the unlicensed professionals who offer subpar and hazardous outputs. Surely, we have all attended a seminar or panel discussion where these issues are raised, but the next time you’re at such an event, do take a minute to look around. You might find your professors, several senior architects, some enthusiastic students, barely anyone from outside the fraternity. These sessions end up just preaching to the choir.
So, is it enough to just comment on such issues in passing or have dialogues within the fraternity? Will things end up changing overnight? It is highly imperative that seasoned professionals, young architects and primarily students stand by their profession, and dispel these misinterpretations. You might raise this question, with the endless deadlines and exams, how can I make the time to change the whole narrative of my profession in society? Would one person speaking up really make that much of a difference? The sure-fire way to make the general public understand how design shapes every aspect of our life would be through activism.
Stripping apart all the shades of grey to view it in a simple black and white lens, activism refers to making people aware of a particular cause. No, you don’t need to go marching on the streets with banners, throwing soup cans at paintings or disrupting traffic. It can be as simple as explaining a particular concept to your peers or juniors, or telling your relatives why you won’t design their house for free in a steadfast manner.
As a student and later on as an architect, small initiatives can help shape the future in a more positive manner. Can you incorporate a bench for the public to sit along with your compound wall? Can a covered pavement improve a pedestrian or cyclist’s experience? Anyone can take the first step that leads to an avalanche of reform, and that person can be you!
It has become a practice established by my seniors through their Urban Design studio, to put up their sheets in a public park in their focus area. They explain the content to the members of the community, their observations, design intervention and gain invaluable feedback in return. The overwhelming positive response of such interactions intrigued me, leading me to ponder on how we as students could give back to the community a sense of design awareness, while gaining feedback that may shape our insights on design thinking to a significant level.
Through this article, let’s discuss a series of issues that we could attempt to address from the desks of our studio. How we can demolish perceived notions in the minds of the general public about our profession, the reasoning behind our designs, instituted policies and much more.
Architects as a community fail to harness the primary subset of people who can mould future activists - the teachers. While they shouldn't thrust their own biases upon their pupils, it is essential to create an environment wherein students can explore activism through a studio and beyond. Rather than giving monotonous assignments that students end up copying from ChatGPT, they can integrate creative tasks that can educate their friends in other courses, relatives and more.
Faculties should encourage students to challenge the status quo. Through debates and discussions in theory classes on topics that can promote intuitive thinking, giving space for raw ideas to develop. They can play a vital role by shaping briefs to address societal inequalities like designing for low income groups, focusing on slum redevelopment and universal design to make students think critically and equip them to address such issues in the future.
Many faculties have implemented unique learning techniques that need to be shared across platforms, through TED Talks, guest lectures or even webinars. This way students can benefit even if they are not taught directly by such professors. Mentoring students is another way that educators can help prepare upcoming architects to take on issues with full force. After all Indian culture has for long recognised the potential educators hold which is embodied in the saying “Matha Pitha Guru Deivam”.
During the rural study visit, I had come across a woman who had recently constructed a brick and concrete home. She lamented that her electricity bills had gone up and recalled how her mud house would stay cool even during the hottest months of the year. An unfortunate takeaway from our study was that most residents of the village, upon reaching certain levels of economic upliftment, tend to replace their age-old family homes of thick mud walls, thatched/tiled roofs with concrete framedfired brick structures.
Early in our education, we understand the pros and cons of using brick and concrete. But traditional construction methods are often relegated to an elective, with little scope of practical implementation through design projects. Students rarely experiment with “alternative” materials. They tend to be unaware of why these materials have withstood the test of time, and its continued relevance; instead capitulating to the trends of the day.
Activism does not always have to be about amplifying the trending issues within the fraternity, it can also involve taking a stand with the conviction to stand by methodologies that have been honed to suit the local context over several millennia. We can also encourage and contribute towards research into enhancing the feasibility of these materials with modern technology. Exploring 3D printing & composite structures that can reduce the dependency on concrete.
One way to keep students informed is by inculcating material exploration in academia, which can serve as an opportunity to explore mud construction. Countless organisations across India are working to make mud mainstream again and offer practical workshops for students and architects. This
contributes to a holistic learning experience for students while preserving the vernacular knowledge for the future generations. They play the role of an activist, by standing out amongst the “conventional” crowd, reminding us of the resilience of such methods. Just engaging in conversations with such activists, could reform your point of view, infusing the zeal to advocate for such material usage upon graduation. Students could converse with members of the community and make the case on why mud architecture is not elitist, that it is affordable, more sustainable and climatically suitable. Convincing even one prospective client, spreads the word exponentially. Herein, lies the simplicity of activism.
Our school is the space where we spend most of our formative years after ourhomes. Hence learning spaces often follow the residence to be the next level of architectural design. Faculties come up with creative briefs that encourage us to think with ingenuity with the end users in mind. The learning space could be for blind children, or for students with cerebral palsy, a residential school and so much more.
While institutions take their students on case studies to such marvelous examples, students tend to be distracted, simply viewing the space as a foreigner and not observing it to the fullest. Humans that inhabit the space, form the most important aspect of a built form and it is essential that we listen, empathise and venture to solve the concerns we come across in our designs. This is a vital step in the design

process that needs to be emphasised. These interactions can help shape your design even more effectively than the endless doom scrolling on Instagram/Pinterest.
Expanding further in relation to a learning environment, constantly checking in with students and teachers will help shape our design in real time and make more impact. The play of light and shade in a corridor could encourage students to run around and not restrict their movement. A more fluid arrangement of furniture could turn the classroom into an exploratory space rather than just serve for rote learning.
Instances like these can also serve as an opportunity to collaborate with professions outside of the construction industry. Involving psychologists in this process can help us better understand the workings of the human psyche. While encouraging them to decode the impacts of spaces on its inhabitants. Thus, a transdisciplinary approach allows professionals across the board to mutually play the role of an activist, by deepening our understanding in the respective fields.

India has been inching slowly but steadily to make life for Persons with Disabilities (PWD) better. Whenever we design, we need to keep in mind that we are designing for all end users. We must adhere to standards and guidelines stipulated that would allow a seamless experience for all.
Students in their naivety might ask “Why provide a separate toilet for PWDs?” or “Do I have to provide a ramp of 1:12 ratio at the entrances?”. I myself am guilty of thinking along these lines, until I had the experience of meeting several PWDs. They had to overcome many hurdles in an attempt to live a normal life. We also tend to forget that temporary disabilities are a possibility. For example, you could fracture your leg and be required to use a wheelchair till it heals.
A professor of mine helped us to empathise with the plight of Persons with Disabilities by engaging us in a role playing activity. The batch was grouped into four - with each student “lacking one ability”. Tasked as a group to perform an activity that we take for granted - walking across the studio/getting a cup of tea from the canteen. When we wrapped up with the activity we noted down our observations and pointed out conflict areas that made our own studio inaccessible. This activity also helped dispel one common misconception about universal design - it's not just about ramps! It is a nuanced subset of design worthy of its own specialised course.
The word disability covers a vast array of mental/ physical and visible/invisible issues. One instance that I recall - At a training center for persons with visual impairment, I understood that disabilities in vision in itself is a spectrum ranging from low vision to partial and complete blindness. One person emphasized the need to have a color variance between tiles and cushions on a chair within a restaurant. Their visual handicap, does not allow them to perceive the depths and easily seat themselves. This reinforced the fact that even trivial design choices can adversely impact a person’s experience within a space.


NGOs in every major city/town across India cater to the wellbeing of Persons with Disabilities. To take up the cause of activism, often requires an incident to trigger the urge to exclaim for reform. Visiting such NGOs can be a life altering experience. Students and architects alike must be sensitized to the issues faced by Persons with Disabilities, making sure that their designs are truly accessible for all . The imperative lies on us, as people who shape the spaces they reside in, to ensure that they can access a space with dignity and not depend on anyone else.
Building As a Learning Aid (BALA), primarily targeted at government schools, makes use of architectural elements to impart education in unorthodox ways. The door swing can be used to teach angles, the window grills to learn abacus, the stairs to count/multiply and so much more.
Learning however does not end with schools and colleges, it is a lifelong process. How can we pass on information about a building not restricted to
its design to those who utilise these spaces everyday. The evolution of BIM, is a boon that can also be used to enlighten a building's energy usage to its occupants, in a bid to encourage them to save on electricity and be mindful of their carbon footprint. Several buildings have implemented smart screens/ apps with information on rainwater harvested, energy saved and other metrics available at the swipe of a screen.
The Pompidou Center in Paris, with its services brought out to the external facade, reminds the passers by that architecture is not a simple one person job, but an amalgamation of several allied fields - structural engineers, HVAC consultants, acoustic consultants and more. They work together coming up with various iterations to provide a seamless experience right from the time you enter till you leave. The Rajkumari Ratnavati school in Rajasthan, has encouraged more girl children to enrol in education.
Ultimately, architecture in itself can play the role of an activist, that outlasts the architect’s era of influence by subtle choices in design that encourage a sustainable way of life. Designs that engage, inform and empower can lead to decades of positive impact on generations to come.
“Gone are the days of climate change, we are now in a climate crisis”. We all know the levels of pollution contributed by the AEC industry. Shelter, however, is an inalienable aspect of society that we cannot forgo.
While architects are involved in drafting guidelines for green building agencies like GRIHA, IGBC or ECBC, we need to take it a step beyond and advocate for a sustainable way of living.
Within India, we can campaign for laws to be shaped in a manner that any building being constructed needs to adhere to basic sustainability norms so that we can slowly reverse the damage inflicted to Mother Earth.
Architects also have a place in global agencies like the United Nations to advocate for reform not just in the “Global South” but in an equitable manner.

Making an impact does not necessarily need to be tangible. In the evenings; during our rurals study visit, we would be stopped by the elders in the village, who would enquire about what we were doing. We would engage in conversation, ask them about growing up in the village, and learn from their anecdotes. I recall one woman who was moved to tears after speaking with us, as she longed to talk to new people after her kids moved abroad for work. Through such conversations more people get to know about the basics of what an architect does - something many are still unaware of.
On the last day, we took it upon ourselves to paint a wall at the local primary school. We discussed the design with the headmaster and panchayat officials and all of us took part in the process. We made a mark on the village and hopefully the headmaster telling the students that a bunch of architecture students painted their school wall would sow the seeds of inquisitiveness, leading to budding architects from that village in the future. The pinnacle of the undergraduate degree is the
thesis. Students use this opportunity to take up live projects to propose their designs that have the capacity to be translated to real life outcomes. Seniors that I have had the pleasure of getting to know through NASA India have proposed concrete ideas from Sikkim to Bhuj, from Kashmir to Hyderabad.
In Sikkim, the thesis project involved the construction of an earthquake resistant shelter and entered in talks with the Government of Sikkim to bring this to fruition.
In Kashmir, on the site of a proposed AIIMS hospital, a senior from Chennai is attempting to make healthcare more accessible to the people of the region.
Along the banks of the Musi river, a student reimagined the riverfront as a thriving zone for public interaction while preserving the riparian zone.
The world can be a daunting place. More often than not students tend to back off making decisions that might make a difference. Yes, we may be limited to certain extents, but if we set our mind to accomplishing a goal there certainly is no limit. More such opportunities will present itself in each
studio of your academic journey, and I am sure that you can find your own way to make a difference. I hope this article has convinced you that even one person and one project can make a positive impact in the long run.
Take a moment, find your cause and be the best architectural activist you can be!
Written by Pranesh RU Illustrated by Suriyavarsha T

“When a wall becomes a canvas, a community comes together as one.”


BY BHAGYASHREE DONGRE
Architecture is often defined as the art and science of designing buildings, its understanding being confined to aesthetics, structural integrity, and functionality. Restricting its identity to these functional aspects overlooks its profound impact on human experiences, cultural expression, and societal well-being, which is why its true essence lies far beyond the confines of physical structures. Architecture is a way of thinking—a lens through which we engage with the world, solve problems, and shape our surroundings. As students embark on this journey at the young age of 17 or 18, they unknowingly sign up for a transformative experience that extends into every facet of their lives. It is an education that not only molds professionals but also has the potential to cultivate responsible citizens, visionaries, and problem solvers who understand the pulse of society.
The architectural mindset is both introspective and outward-facing. It refines one’s ability to observe, analyze, and synthesize—developing a keen sensitivity toward human needs, environmental challenges, and cultural narratives. Likewise, it fosters an acute awareness of spatial dynamics, social interactions, and the ever-evolving urban fabric, enabling architects to shape spaces that resonate with collective experiences. This dual growth, occurring both internally and externally, sets architects apart, allowing them to contribute meaningfully to the world in ways that transcend the realm of design.
Before even stepping into an architecture school, an individual’s curiosity about spaces, patterns, and interactions with the built environment begins to take shape. Though it may not always be apparent, this awareness subtly develops as one listens to stories of a bygone time from their grandparents, navigates new cities during travel, and builds experiences through diverse engagements in art, sports, and culture—each shaping their perception of space and place. Architectural education merely acts as a catalyst, accelerating and refining this innate curiosity. Through studio exercises, case studies, and site visits, students begin to appreciate the interconnectedness of history, technology, and human behavior. They are trained to observe the nuances of the world—not just as passive inhabitants, but as active participants in shaping its future.
Unlike many other disciplines, architecture does not deal with absolutes. It teaches students to navigate the gray areas, balancing function with aesthetics, tradition with innovation, and individual creativity with collective well-being. Over time, this practice instills a heightened sense of social responsibility. An architect does not just design a house; they design a home that will nurture families for generations. They do not just plan a city; they create systems that foster community, accessibility, and sustainability. By constantly engaging with these considerations, students develop an instinct to look beyond their personal interests. They approach life with an open mind—respecting diverse perspectives, embracing challenges as learning experiences, and finding value in every interaction. This mindset is a powerful force for positive change.
While many architecture graduates pursue conventional careers in design, others take their training into parallel streams—urban policy, filmmaking, game design, journalism, heritage conservation, and even entrepreneurship. What remains common among them is the ability to think spatially, problem-solve creatively, and approach challenges with a holistic perspective. For instance, an architect-turned-urban planner applies the same spatial reasoning skills to design inclusive public policies. A former architecture student working in film set design uses their knowledge of scale, materiality, and storytelling to craft immersive cinematic worlds. Even in sectors like marketing or tech, architectural training provides a structured yet flexible way of thinking—balancing logic with imagination, data with intuition.
This crossover is possible because architectural education is not merely about drafting and rendering. It is about learning to read between the lines, to understand human aspirations and constraints, and to respond with thoughtful, meaningful solutions. In this way, architectural thinking ripples out into various disciplines, proving that its impact is not confined to any one industry.

Architectural education demands scrutiny and attention to detail. Whether it is analyzing historical precedents, exploring materials, or designing for different climatic conditions, students develop a habit of questioning assumptions and seeking deeper truths. This sharpens their ability to see through the distractions of modern life—the noise of commercial media, the biases of digital algorithms, and the superficiality of fleeting trends. Instead of blindly consuming information, they learn to critique, reinterpret, and innovate.
One of the most fascinating aspects of architecture school is its diversity—not just in curriculum, but in its approach to shaping students’ worldviews. While some institutions emphasize theoretical explorations, others focus on technical mastery. Some nurture a culture of experimentation and flexibility, while others enforce discipline and rigor. Regardless of these variations, the outcome is largely the same: students emerge with a profound sense of resilience, adaptability, and optimism.
Beyond academics, the experience of architecture school itself is deeply character-building. Deadlines, critiques, and long hours of work teach students perseverance and patience. The collaborative nature of studio culture fosters teamwork and empathy. The exposure to diverse ideas and perspectives builds cultural sensitivity. Over time, these experiences translate into a unique confidence—one that is not based on arrogance, but on a quiet, assured belief in one’s ability to contribute meaningfully to society.
Perhaps the most valuable lesson that architecture imparts is the realization that learning never truly stops. Every project, every client, and every new site presents a fresh challenge that demands curiosity and innovation. Over time, this mindset extends beyond architecture, becoming a way of seeing the world—an ever-present lens that sharpens one’s perception of patterns, behaviors, and relationships in all aspects.
This awareness—that one can never know everything—is not a limitation but an invitation. It fosters a rare humility, an acceptance of the ever-evolving nature of knowledge and human experience. Whether observing the organic growth of a city, the cultural significance of rituals, or the nuanced details of a seemingly ordinary space, architects carry this sensitivity with them, constantly absorbing, questioning, and reimagining the world around them.
Architecture is not just a profession; it is a way of engaging with the world. It shapes individuals into thinkers, problem-solvers, and humanists who understand the value of design beyond aesthetics. Whether they go on to design landmark buildings or forge new paths in unexpected industries, their architectural education stays with them—guiding their decisions, shaping their values, and influencing their contributions to society.
As students embark on this journey, they may not always realize the profound transformation they are undergoing. But in time, they realise how architecture has shaped them into individuals who embrace challenges, cherish creativity, and recognize their responsibility toward the world. And in that realization lies the true impact of architectural thinking—one that ripples far beyond buildings, influencing lives, communities, and futures in ways that are both tangible and deeply meaningful.
Collective Pulse – Engaging People, Public, and Purpose

The Inner Journey – Introspection, Balance, Becoming
“Beyond
the Studio: The architectural mind travels far—into policy rooms, film sets, classrooms, and communities—where its power to imagine and influence quietly blooms.”

Written


BY NISCHAL M EJARDAR
A young student stands before a towering structure, eyes wide with wonder. For some, it’s a sleek skyscraper cutting into the sky, while for others, it’s an ancient temple whispering stories through its intricate carvings. This vision shifts and evolves—what inspires one architect may not move another, and even personal inspirations change over time. Architecture, at its core, is shaped by an ever-evolving dialogue between imagination and reality.
Among the many students drawn to architecture, one in particular stands at the heart of our story. He isn’t a prodigy or a revolutionary—just someone with a dream that refuses to fade. Let’s call him Sai.—it was a quiet moment in childhood that sparked everything. Sitting under the sprawling banyan tree in his ancestral home in Karnataka, watching the interplay of sunlight through the leaves, he imagined a home that breathed with nature. That childhood vision planted a dream: to design spaces that make people feel something. But as soon as the journey begins, reality pushes back. Late nights, harsh critiques, financial struggles, and creative compromises test that initial spark. We’re not going to sugarcoat these challenges; instead, we want to explore and embrace them. It’s about how architects, from students to seasoned professionals, can turn roadblocks into stepping stones and build not just structures, but meaningful careers.
“Success in architecture is not just about making a name for yourself—it’s about carving a space where passion and profession align, where creativity meets stability.”

“A curious gaze and a pencil in hand, Echoes of heritage shaping new dreams. Even legends began with a sketch”

Architecture school is a wild ride. Sai enters full of ideas, eager to create, and then— bam! The first critique hits, and suddenly his grand vision is reduced to a mess of red-inked corrections. Studio nights stretch into mornings, fueled by chai from the college canteen and a desperate need to meet deadlines. Sai quickly learns that architecture isn’t just about drawing pretty buildings—it’s about solving problems, working within constraints, and defending ideas with confidence.
The pressure can feel crushing. There’s the relentless demand for perfection, the neverending revisions, and the cost of modelmaking materials that somehow always seem overpriced. Burnout is a common enemy, lurking in the background, testing endurance and passion. Many students struggle with the fear of not being “good enough.” The weight of expectations—both from professors and from themselves—can feel suffocating.
But amid the chaos, there are moments of magic. The first time a professor nods approvingly at Sai’s work, the camaraderie
of shared struggles with classmates, the sheer joy of bringing an idea to life—these moments keep him going. And in between all the deadlines, Sai keeps returning to an idea—an open, nature-integrated community space inspired by the courtyards of traditional Indian homes. A project too ambitious for school, but one he keeps sketching, refining, dreaming about, drawing back to his childhood vision.
To thrive in architecture school, time management and self-care become as important as creativity. Learning to balance ambition with well-being ensures that passion doesn’t burn out before it can fully take shape. Sitting at his cluttered desk at dawn, Sai might pause to look out the window, watching how the morning light paints the cityscape of Bangalore. That small moment of stillness, of reconnecting with what drew him to architecture in the first place, is just as important as any critique. Seeking inspiration beyond architecture—through travel, art, and nature—keeps creativity fresh and perspective broad. Architecture is demanding, but the lessons lay the foundation for a lifelong career.

Graduation feels like the finish line, but in reality, it’s just the starting block. The transition from student to professional is a rude awakening. Gone are the days of abstract concepts and limitless creativity. Now, Sai is dealing with clients, budgets, Vastu consultants, municipal approvals, and—let’s be honest—some really uninspiring projects. That dream project from college? It’s put on hold as he drafts floor plans for a developer’s high-rise, corrects endless revisions, and chases permissions from local authorities.

The curve of a line, the weight of an idea. Every detail demands precision and patience. This is where architecture breathes first.
The long hours don’t end; in fact, they might get worse. Many young architects find themselves working late into the night, trying to meet impossible deadlines. The industry’s fast pace, coupled with high expectations, can make even the most passionate designer question their path. And then there’s the pay. Early salaries can be underwhelming, making it feel like architecture is a passion project rather than a sustainable career. Some wonder if they should have pursued a more lucrative field, while others seek ways to make architecture work for them rather than the other way around.
Yet, within the long nights and demanding projects, moments of joy surface—when a concept sketch becomes a tangible reality, when a mentor’s guidance turns an overwhelming challenge into a breakthrough. There’s an indescribable thrill in seeing something designed take shape, even if it’s just a small part of a larger project. Those moments fuel the perseverance needed to keep going.
And Sai? He still hasn’t forgotten about that community space. It lingers in the background, a quiet dream waiting for the right time.
Financial success in architecture is possible. The trick is in positioning yourself right. Building strong networks, learning negotiation skills, and developing a personal brand can turn architecture into a profitable venture. Success in architecture is not just about making a name for yourself—it’s about carving a space where passion and profession align, where creativity meets stability. It’s also important to find workplaces that respect work-life balance. The industry is evolving, and firms that prioritize employee well-being are becoming more common. Seeking mentorship, attending workshops, and staying connected to evolving trends can help young professionals navigate the complex world of architecture without losing themselves in the grind.
For those who stick it out, the game changes. Experience brings creative freedom, and suddenly, you’re no longer just executing ideas— you’re shaping entire projects. You get to make real decisions, push boundaries, and, most importantly, create spaces that matter. The transition from struggling young architect to an established professional is marked by a shift from following instructions to leading visions.
Sai finally gets the chance to revisit that old dream. A project comes along—a public pavilion inspired by the stepwells of Rajasthan, designed as a space where nature, water, and community come together. It’s not exactly the banyan tree courtyard he once envisioned, but it’s close enough. This time, he has the experience, the resources, and the confidence to bring it to life. And when he steps into the completed space, watching people gather, interact, and find joy in something he built—it’s the full-circle moment that makes the journey worth it.
Mentorship becomes key at this stage. Helping the next generation navigate the same struggles is a powerful way to give back. Teaching, guiding, and sharing the journey ensures that architecture continues to evolve and inspire.The architects of tomorrow now look towards Sai for inspiration and guidance. Successful architects don’t just create buildings; they create opportunities, push the boundaries of design, and advocate for a better built environment.
Financial stability also comes with time. As credibility grows, so does earning potential. Many architects find financial success not just through firm employment but through side projects, competitions, and even entrepreneurship. Some branch into real estate development, sustainable innovation, or digital visualization—expanding their reach and influence beyond traditional architecture firms.
Architecture is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s a journey filled with challenges, yes—but also with incredible rewards. Every setback is a lesson. Every criticism, an opportunity to improve. Every challenge, a chance to innovate. Success in this field isn’t just about talent; it’s about resilience, adaptability, and passion.
For those struggling, it helps to remember why they started. The long hours, the critiques, the financial uncertainty—these are hurdles, not dead ends. The key to surviving architecture is finding joy in the process. Celebrating small wins, embracing the learning curve, and staying curious can turn struggles into stepping stones.
So to the students pulling all-nighters, the young professionals wondering if they’ll ever catch a break, and the architects questioning if the struggle is worth it—keep going. Architecture is more than a job; it’s a way to shape the world. The journey is tough, but those who embrace it with grit and creativity will find not just success, but deep, lasting fulfillment.
Keep building. Keep pushing. Keep transforming challenges into masterpieces. The world needs architects who see beyond the difficulties and recognize the beauty in shaping the spaces we call home.
Written by Nischal M Ejardar
Illustrated by Rachit
Jain



Architectural design has always been more than a profession — it’s where my love for art and space finds meaning. It has taught me humility, patience, and the value of embracing the process. I’m grateful for the journey and the wisdom of my Guru, B.V. Doshi, whose philosophy guides me in both design and life, reminding me that architecture is about shaping experiences that touch the soul.
Chinmay Vivek Naik, 5TH YEAR, CITATION


Student of the Year (SOTY) trophy for me is less a reward and more an opportunity. It’s a journey of the ideas I’ve shared, the creativity I’ve explored, and the growth I’ve experienced. It challenges me to become a better version of myself than I was a year ago.



I’m honored to receive this citation from NASA for my housing project proposed in Dubai. This recognition motivates me to keep pushing boundaries in sustainable and context-driven design. Grateful for the platform that celebrates young architects and visionary ideas.
Bhavik Thakkar, 4TH YEAR, CITATION


Throughout the journey of developing the narrative and design for the thesis, there was a clear thought of the level of drawings and visuals needed to support the ideas and project nuances. The process of visualisation began parallel to the initial conceptual design post the research phase. The unique site context, history and the future scenario addressed in the proposal confronts the built paradigm. The visuals follow the same pattern of breaking away from conventional standards of expression of forms and details. The final the challenge was to summarize the work done over the year to a mere few sheets.
Shaun Martin Fernandes, 5TH YEAR, SPECIAL MENTION
Achieving the Student of the Year award has been the result of consistent hard work, a passion for learning, and a commitment to making the most of every opportunity i.e both inside and outside the classroom. From academic excellence and creative exploration to active participation in extracurricular initiatives, this journey has been shaped by perseverance, collaboration, and the invaluable support of mentors and peers. This recognition not only celebrates these efforts but also encourages me to continue striving for growth, impact, and meaningful contribution.
Mehul Tandon, 3RD YEAR, SPECIAL MENTION



From failing a subject in 12th to winning SOTY, the journey felt like a fall, until I rose again with faith, passion, and the Almighty’s grace. When what once felt impossible became real, I broke down in tears. That moment stays with me. Thank you, NASA India, for recognizing and uplifting such journeys.
Owais Hashmi, 3RD YEAR, CITATION


Being recognized on this stage has been very inspiring. The experience has been truly special. It made me pause, reflect on my journey, and understand my work in a new perspective. I am grateful to my college and NASA India for offering such an invaluable platform to grow, collaborate, and celebrate student work.
Vishal S. Gupta, 2ND YEAR, SPECIAL MENTION

Participating in the Student of the Year (SOTY) initiative was a privilege and an enriching experience. It gave me a platform to present my academic work and reflect on my second-year journey. Preparing for it pushed me to delve deeper into my subjects, refine my communication, and assess how my work aligns with the broader goals of the field.

Winning the 66th Student of the Year Trophy has been a defining moment in my academic journey. It reflects my passion for sustainable and contextdriven design. I’m grateful to NASA India for the platform and recognition that inspires me to keep pushing boundaries in architecture.
Darshan Jain, 1ST YEAR, CITATION


Receiving the citation was both humbling and motivating. It reaffirmed the value of dedication, persistence, and the support of my mentors and peers. I’m truly grateful to the organization for fostering a space that recognizes student growth. This milestone marks the start of a more purposeful and passionate path ahead.
Khushi Mahavir Jain, 2ND YEAR, CITATION

Receiving a Special Mention in the 66th Year Student of the Year Trophy for my work is both humbling and energizing. It validates the long nights and self-doubt, but more importantly, it strengthens my belief in the path ahead. I’m excited to keep growing, learning, and shaping my voice in architecture.
Dhruv Gupta, 1ST YEAR, SPECIAL MENTION




By Madhumithaa V and Vishnupriya K | Z603 | Citation 1

“ARCHITECTURE IS AN EXPRESSION OF VALUES THE WAY WE BUILD IS A REFLECTION OF THE WAY WE LIVE.”
-Norman Foster
As the world advances towards progress and evolution, there are consequences that emerge as constant challenges. The hurdles, brought about by these innovations, call for the necessity of immediate action. However, one must be mindful of the role that they play in shaping the community while providing such solutions. Regardless of the intensity, every decision that has to be made should have a sense of social responsibility. Being an inevitable part of the society, the impact of architecture on mankind is immense. An architect now bears the weight of spatial definition with which he or she can influence the plot of the worldly play.
The dynamics of a social enclave involve mutual understanding, respect for diversity, and the acknowledgment of shared responsibilities. It requires a vision beyond differences, settlement of conflicts and active participation of individuals in the creation of a balanced
66WAT-838
living setting. It is essentially the policy makers and executives of the government who are critical in sorting out the labels of injustices prevailing in a society. Public spaces become the battleground for politics and power where architectural activism is expressed through buildings of remarkable relevance.
For instance, in 1889 France, Eduard Lockroy, then a minister of the cabinet, expressed his power through the erection of the Eiffel tower, which in turn made an international sensation as well as reinstated the internal dominance over the opposition. Hence a question arises in one’s mind: if architecture could influence power play to this extent, can it not change a society to be more equitable and inclusive?
Inclusivity is the goal for an equitable design, though the two concepts do not align. Similarly, equitable design need not be universal too. Equitable design centres on addressing social injustices, universal design strives to achieve a universally accessible and integrative design for all users, and inclusive design aims to ensure representation for everyone. With a shared objective, these three approaches collaborate to craft noteworthy designs and experiences. Speaking of exceptional designs addressing the insight of societal equity, the Copenhill project in Copenhagen by the Danish visionary Bjarke Ingels, is designed to be the cleanest waste to energy plant in the world. It is found to be the tallest building in the city and Denmark’s first ski slope. He aimed to create a public urban space in the densest area of the city and chose to embed it in the topography of the most undesirable part of any city, a region which is generally avoided by the public: a sustainable waste conversion plant. The ski slope brings the entire community together regardless of any barriers, creating core memories.
“To me, CopenHill is a perfect example of the world changing power of architecture. That we have the power to give form to the future that we want to live in.” says the architect. Sometimes architecture even poses the role of a democratic institution: for the people, by the people and of the people. This can be evidently seen in the case of Modskool in Chilla Khader. The community of Delhi squatters did not have a permanent settlement. In 2011, the authorities demolished the 200 student school that they had been utilizing due to matters of illegal occupancy. That’s when the whole neighbourhood came together and approached the Social Design Collaborative (SDC) firm to get themselves a structure that could be rapidly dismantled and shifted without much hassle. With the power of vernacular techniques, locally feasible materials and community engagement, this fascinating entity came into existence, inspiring across domains.
Parallelly, the Kalkeri Sangeet Vidyalaya located in the modest area of Dharwad in Karnataka, introduces an expression – a template that poses a rudimentary and sustainable initiative to create on the vast, wild landscape. The sole motive of the makers was to sculpt an adaptable as well as multifaceted space. Creating a safe and inviting civic sphere with passive strategies and local resource assemblage, this performing arts centre has captivated a lot more people than expected.
To grant a human the most basic amount of equity through architecture is to provide him or her with a restroom. Restrooms have been associated with a long history of being spaces of segregation that benefit those in power and prevent underprivileged groups from participating in the public sector.
The onset of binary gendered restrooms draws attention to the fascinating development in Victorian architecture where detached areas for women were created in almost every aspect of life. This happened because of the fear of women empowerment in various fields. At some
point, having gender specific restrooms with class divisions were better than having no public restrooms for use. On a similar note, the Jim Crow segregation of regions based on ethnicity and race was also an architecturally impactful movement that has sparked rage across the world. For instance, there were three labels of restrooms namely, male, female and coloured. This design was a deliberate act of hatred against the people of colour, stirring thoughts of feeling less masculine or less feminine. These elements of segregation were such as but not limited to water fountains, theatres, waiting areas, trains, cars, etc. But the current controversy around restrooms is: should trans people be allowed to use the restrooms of genders that they identify with rather than the ones that they were born with or not. In situations like these, architecture and the architect who practices it, has the integral duty of determining the way a society can take a turn.
Tadao Ando, a man of concrete minimalism, has created in his career a long list of astounding buildings. One of his more prominent works is the church of light showcasing the incorporation of natural lumination as the sole religious element into the solid structure. What most people miss in this wonder of a building is that, unlike most of the churches, where there is a podium in which the pastor stands making him look more closer to God than the parishioners, this church excludes this element. “I believe that the way people live can be directed a little by architecture.” says the architect. The outline of this minor alteration, is that he inevitably puts everyone equal before the almighty and the design effortlessly integrates into the structure. This serves as a good example for how an architect can instigate an equitable society.
“I don’t think I started in architecture wanting to make the world more accessible. I just wanted to do good design. But I think if somebody can’t get into your space, that isn’t good design.”
Inclusive design is a process where every part of the built environment is designed to be used by a reasonable and a broad spectrum of individuals; it elevates the concept of accessibility by giving it a fresh social perspective. As designers of the physical context, an architect possesses the authority to include or to exclude and to empower or to limit. The accessibility to a built environment can be controlled by an architect. The means of accessibility exists in the form of the ‘Curb Cut Effect’ in our society. Though it goes unnoticed in a common man’s view, the impact this effect has on one’s life is certain. The ‘Curb Cut Effect’ refers to the phenomenon where design enhancements initially intended for a specific group, such as people with disabilities, end up benefiting a much more diverse population. In layman terms it can be understood as ‘when we design for people with disabilities, we make things better for everyone’. A simple example where ramps are provided in built space for wheelchair users makes it easier for people with luggage, strollers and individuals with temporary injuries. However, due to misconceptions, there is a belief that implementing accessibility regulations may compromise the aesthetics of a building or eliminate creativity from its design which is unfortunate.
Thus, lack of education has led to an overall deficiency in awareness in modern society. Several people associate inclusive design with only the concept of disability where it indulges the diverse notions of age, sex, race, socio economic status and many other criteria. The educators are crucial in shaping the next generation of professionals of this prestigious field. Just like how the Brazilian architect Lucia Costa steered Oscar Neimeyer, the professors play a vital role in creating sensible architects, making them mindful of the concepts such as equity, inclusivity and universal design. Nowadays, a lot of effort is being put into encouraging such architects with a vision. For instance, the evolution of the esteemed Pritzker Prize from initially being awarded as a lifetime achievement award, then as a recognition of worldwide celebrities and from the last decade, has progressed into focusing on the architects with social commitment who create hands-on solutions for the global crisis. If an architect
has mastered their concepts, they design well. But if they have the social awareness where to put in their mastery of skills, they end up navigating through the community’s problems.
”As long as we are separated or selectively harmed by space, justice is not possible.” says Liz
Ogbu, an architect with a sense of spatial justice. In the early 2000’s, streets of the US served as the informal hiring centres for day labourers. Under the scorching sun they wait to get a job that can pay for their daily bread. Noticing this everyday tussle, Ogbu wished to bring upon a novel proposition of the day labourer station as a way out. Collaborating with certain other studios, they create a structure, so adaptive and catering to the needs of the target community. Thus, an architect essentially becomes the being of societal reform.
When undertaking programs of humongous scale, compromises regarding regional differences are generally done. However, the large-scale infrastructure and development project, ‘The Smart City’ project initiated by the Indian government in 2015, has contributed to a great extent in preserving culture and heritage, and bringing together communities. One of such projects is the renovation of the Ayyankulam in Thanjavur. Prominently described as a spot for self-harm by the locals in the past, this pond was rejuvenated into a gathering space for the townsfolk and the history related to the cholas of the spot is reinstated.
Equity in a society can be established by acknowledging the existing barriers in the community. The need for these barriers to be removed is really crucial. But before looking out and into the world, one must delve deep into one’s self. Inside this innate area is where questions of utmost importance arise. What are the barriers and biases that our mind presents us with? On what basis do
these biases take a form and shape? Is it due to a series of historical oppression and dominance over one another?
For instance, when we take a conservative home, women are left alienated in the kitchen when the entire family gathers together during mealtime discussing the memories they made or debating the kid’s career choices. Creating a space or an opening in the kitchen wall by which the women can participate in the family’s bonding time, gives them the ultimate joy. This may be the smallest of a change but the impact it makes in the family dynamics is astounding. The self-awareness of an architect that they belong to the community that they design for, brings about the best version of any design that could be produced. Combating these issues of social equity can first begin at an individual level; but can only be further accelerated with the assemblage of several like-minded professionals. Thus, the process of creating an equity based design is not a destination but a process full of infinite struggles and milestones.
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4. Baldwin, E. (2019). CopenHill: The Story of BIG’s Iconic Waste-to-Energy Plant. [online] ArchDaily. Available at: https://www.archdaily.com/925966/ copenhill-the-story-of-bigs-iconic-wasteto-energy-
plant.
5. www.constructionworld.in.(n.d.). Ayyankulam, Thanjavur: Smart City Award for Heritage. [online] Available at: https:// www.constructionworld.in/urbaninfrastructure/ smart-cities-projects/ayyankulam--thanjavur-smart-cityaward-for-heritage/43783 [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].
6. Nuttle, W. (2021). The Scheming Politician Who Won Paris with the Eiffel Tower. [online] Paris an Engineer’s Guide. Available https:// medium.com/eiffels-paris-an-engineers-guide/ the-man-whoselected-gustave-eiffel-toastound-the-world-e019411c5c6e.
7. Nkoyock, N. (2023). Principles and strategies for equitable design. [online] LogRocket Available at: https://blog.logrocket. com/uxdesign/designing-for-equity/ [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].
8. Chen, A. (2019). The Design of Segregated Public Bathrooms: Victorian, Jim Crow, Trans, and Disability. [online] Medium. Available at: https://medium.com/@access_guide_/thedesign-of-segregated-publicbathroomsvictorian-jim-crow-trans-and-disability33c632ad9d7a.
9. Liz Ogbu. (n.d.). Day Labor Station. [online] Available at: https://lizogbu.com/work/daylabor-station.
10. www.youtube.com. (n.d.). Oscar Niemeyer : The last modern architect. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRVrd oonO8&t=249s [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].
11. Bachman1, L. and Bachman2, C. (n.d.). INTERSECTIONALITY, OPPRESSION, AND OPPORTUNITY IN ARCHITECTURE: CLAIMING THE SOCIAL COMPLEX. ARCHITECTURE OF COMPLEXITY, [online] 2017. Available at: https://www.brikbase.org/ sites/default/files/ARCC2017_Session1A_ Bachman_Bachman_0.pdf.
12. ArchDaily. (2020). Karen Braitmayer, Founder of Studio Pacifica, Weighs in on Accessible Design. [online] Available https:// www.archdaily.com/944706/karen-braitmayerfounder-of-studiopacifica-weighs-in-onaccessible-design [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].


By Alankrita, Souri | Z101 | Citation 2
You sit on your favorite bench in a park, the wind gently pats your face with its cool hands and lifts your chin to the sky.
This is where I find you.
You don’t know who I am, but I know you—a carefully placed piece in the puzzle of the universe. You are human, longing to belong and stand alongside the others of your kind. You call this web humanity, and you frequently wonder, indeed, how so many different worlds and textures exist alongside each other.
I am Hestia; in ancient Greece and Rome, I was a goddess, but now what remains of me are intangible feelings and thoughts in your head. I will be your cosmic guide as you traverse the world of revolutions and how people come together. So much of society as I have seen it made comes from the likes of you, who bounded together for a dear cause. My expertise, you see, is comfort, community, and the instrument that brings them together, architecture.
I can sense that your restless mind is a river of thoughts, and so was the mighty Ceaser’s as he lay on the ground at the Curia of Pompey, dying. He was stabbed an odd twenty-three times by his most trusted. The Curia was a public theater, and neither the young senators nor even I could predict what would happen next. They thought that they were protecting Rome from the hands of a dictator; unbeknownst to them, each knife that struck Caesar was a knife stuck inside the republic itself.
I frequently wonder what would have happened had Caesar died in the privacy of his forum. The betrayers would have had more time to gauge the reaction of the republic regarding his
death, placate the masses, and maybe even lie altogether.
Maybe then the consequences wouldn’t have been so catastrophic. Perhaps a lie could have been formulated about his ailing health. Where he died is what decided how the public got to know about the loss of their leader, which directly influenced how they reacted.
Amidst the skyline that you find so fascinating today is a myriad of invisible pockets where activities are happening undercover. This part of the tale is perhaps my favorite. You must know the story of your country—the only land you can truly call yours. But not even a century ago, on this very soil, people were fighting for your freedom. They conspired and planned for your safe future. In Bengal, the revolution of the mind was happening just as it was for the body.
A tiny restaurant was alive with the sounds of people cooking and eating, immersed in conversations about their lives as they were, but behind closed doors, in the back of that very eatery were leaders of courage planning attacks against the British. This juice shop, Paramount was its name, operated as a clandestine assembly. The fearless owner was on the lookout for the police so these men could be alerted and escape through the back doors on time, evading arrest. Another such place in Bengal was the Pice Hotel, a restaurant front harboring similar secrets of its own.
Revolutions did not only happen indoors; who’s to deny a tree or a field from becoming part of your stories? These are the places Gandhi chose to be his landmarks of change. Made significant by the assemblage of the poor and rich alike, rendered sacred by the virtue of their intentions
and desire for freedom, the Dandi march, and eventually Satyagraha. If even this isn’t enough for you, friend, let me transport you to the middle of April in 1919, where nearly a thousand Sikhs celebrated Baisakhi in what they believed to be the safest place to gather, for their wives and kids. What was a day of joy and fresh harvest darkened to become one burdened with death, a futile fight for survival. The people watched in horror as the garden quickly transfigured from the yellow of a fresh harvest to the red of blood and falling bodies. The brightest of skies turning dark from shame and loss.
From my place in the skies, I see that people are connected via abstract concepts of their inception, but more concretely, what connects them, first and foremost, is the space they occupy. If they were to speak, the air would carry your voice to others. You breathe the same air, and you share the same immediate experience, like the warmth of the room, the same breeze. A nearby bird sings equally for all. This, in its simplest sense, is what occupying the same space means. What if the space you occupy with others suddenly shrinks to the size of an annex behind an office building in Amsterdam?
The size of your life, which was large enough to include your school, your playground, and your library, is now limited to an attic. Now I talk about a girl who, like you, relied on fantasy to survive. She wrote, and she wrote, and she wrote to persist in a home that was barely a house with too many people, unable to even stick her head out of her window.
Does this sound familiar to you? Were you not in a similar predicament a few years ago? Where you called having dinner with
your family a party and sitting alone in your room ogling a computer, your office. Anne was carted to a concentration camp eventually, where her fight for survival continued, but in the shelter of the annex, trapped with a lot of people, there was friction, but there was also love, friendship, and mutuality. As two families faced the consequences of war, forced assemblage taught them what it takes to keep spirits alive in the direst of times. You know this through her accounts, but I was there when they celebrated birthdays and all their Jewish holidays with a passion rarely seen in people ambushed in situations.
One of the forty-four thousand concentration camps created by Nazi Germany could also be classified as a place of gathering, if I put it simply. Do you think the people caged there let themselves suffer inertly? Small fights against the guards broke out regularly; they fought their small revolutions. Wherever people are and if they are suffering, I can guarantee, my friend, that humans have fought for themselves through thick and thin. I can count on you and your people to always wish for freedom and autonomy. In that sense, you are very predictable to me. And for that, I am glad.
Have you noticed how all these stories pave the way for kinship, freedom, or progress? All against an evil. Spaces bring us together physically, of course, but what would gathering in a space mean if it also didn’t mean the exchange of ideas, osmosis of emotions, and a shared struggle to culminate in some sort of action? Because isn’t that what your lives revolve around at the end of the day? Affirmative moments of enterprise. I am not a stranger to the concept of cults either, where your kind is so close to one another that you are repulsed by the idea of any stranger coming amidst them. Those establishments scare me. When a group becomes so enmeshed in their philosophy that any alien idea is treated as an evil. Those are places that become hard to escape—a quagmire of distortion.
And yet people break free every day because, regardless of the illusion of community, you cannot compromise on your individuality, on your very own uniqueness. This is a solitary revolution. Where one’s mind should be a place of refuge becomes a battleground itself. This is the one fear I have regarding sequestered spaces. But watching your kind overcome again and again the temptation to stay sheltered in your thoughts dulls this worry of mine. You did not come to the park to sit idle, but the newspaper lies unwrinkled by your side, untouched. The headlines create a frown on your face. You know that people are suffering on both sides, just as you know that the real culprits sit on their golden thrones, sheltered far away from ground zero in their towers of glass elsewhere. Pulling strings or even the trigger is much easier from the safety of their lavish living rooms. When will all this end? Homes destroyed, kids orphaned, and dreams abandoned—to what end? You and I both inquire.
There is another headline that grabs your attention, A Pride Parade. What is so ostracized in your society that needs such a bold reclamation? The procession takes the route along the Barakhamba road, Tolstoy Marg, finally concluding at Jantar Mantar. The parade imbues these landmarks with urgency for the cause, changing the identity of these places briefly into points of color, devotion, and celebration. Jantar Mantar has been a hotspot for protests in your country.
The huge space adds to the element of convenience for the crowd, but also to the fact that it is a locus for the nearby buildings of authority, in what you call Lutyens’ Delhi. Because of its reputation, hawkers selling water, sunglasses, hats, and more, assemble here, ready for business. What was a good location for protests became even better with time. This is the magic of architecture, dear friend. It transforms with age and intention. As the hands of time shift the course of our lives, so do the spaces we grow in.
These spaces may no longer be abodes of insurgency, but their contribution to your history is indisputable. Even if now the tree no longer survives, the plaster on the walls may be peeling and crumbling to dust, the doors swollen and heavy, and the once polished floorboards coming loose. The trees, the annex, and the restaurants were characters alive with significance once because they were a part of something bigger than themselves. What an enigma. Is the identity of a place created by what it looks like and its materiality, or is it shaped by what happens there, like the Greek philosopher Plutarch’s Ship of Theseus? If so, how many spaces in your life reflect this, I wonder. Was your bedroom when you were young just a room for sleep, or was it an impenetrable fortress where nothing could ever hurt you?
Is your office desk just a desk, or is it where you fight your trickiest battles and win? Similarly, the restaurant’s rear was a convenient place to throw out leftovers, but wasn’t it also the place where the valiant silently fought for your independence? On a smaller scale, on a private scale, the life of your favorite chair, the corner near the window in your grandmother’s home, the park near your school, or this very bench isn’t trivial either. Someone’s mind, or more than one, carefully curated this experience for you.
Just as you are changed because of them, they are changed because you existed during the period of their life. New spaces are emerging constantly; they are eternally being created in your mind, home, and community. What remains to be seen is if you use them with honor and fairness or succumb to the traps of chaos like some weaker members of your community so often have. Sitting here, sharing a bench and our thoughts, we have created our very own modest assembly, but it looks like my time has come. Olympus beckons, and in the present, is where I leave you.
1. Burman, P. (2022), ‘A forgotten chapter of Indian independence: Kolkata’s cafés that were safe havens for Bengal’s Revolutionaries,’ 30 Stades, 13 August. https://30stades.com/2022/08/15/ kolkatas-cafes-that-were-safe-havens-forbengals-revolutionaries-freedom-fighters-indianindependence/.
2. Ouellette, J. (2022) Confirmed: Curia of Pompey, where Julius Caesar was killed, was built in three phases. https://arstechnica.com/science/2022/02/ confirmed-curia-of-pompey-where-julius-caesarwas-killed-was-built-in-three-phases/.
3. Kundu, S. (2023), ‘How did Jantar Mantar become a site of protests in the national capital?’ News9live, 30 May. https://www.news9live.com/ knowledge/how-did-jantar-mantar-become-a site-of-protests-in-national-capital-2159562.
4. Metin (2019), ‘Hestia, the goddess of the home, hearth, and architecture,’ Symbols and Their Meanings - Mythology and Gods - Mythical Creatures, 28 February. https://mythologian.net/ hestia-the-goddess-of-the-home-hearth-and architecture/.
5. The secret Annex (2022). https://www.annefrank. org/en/anne-frank/secret-annex/.
6. Nazi camps (no date). https://encyclopedia.ushmm. org/content/en/article/nazi-camps?series=10.
7. Alagarsamy, H. (2021) The history of pride parades in India https://feminisminindia. com/2019/06/24/pride-parades-india-history/.


By Japreet Kaur Kang and Sanya Sharma | Z103 | Special Mention 1
UGLY TRUTHS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY
The city is not that equal as it claims to be. The beauty of Chandigarh was the equalitarian ideology in its design, but many of these thoughts were not tangibly put, or if they were present the administration was not able to uphold the promises of equity.
The city was envisioned as a utopian blend of functionality, aesthetics and egalitarianism, when it was first conceived 70 years ago. This model was created for a new city with a new ideology designed for a new India. But what does it stand for today? Are the values of Chandigarh the same? Are the aims of Chandigarh the same? Is this modern city modern enough for this 21st century and will the city remain relevant for our future generations or just end up being another heritage city?
One of the primary challenges Chandigarh faces today is the high contrast of the socio- economic divide among its residents. The city’s layout, characterized by well- defined sectors, unconsciously segregates populations based on income levels. While certain sectors boast immaculate infrastructure and well-maintained public spaces, others sulk in neglect, with overcrowding and lack of amenities. The projected population for each sector was to be 15,000 but with this economic division, the posh sectors like sector 9 only has a population of 5000, while the other sectors like sector 22 has a population of about 25,000. The planned city’s rigid structure has unintentionally led to the creation of affluent pockets and marginalized neighbourhoods, resulting inequality in access to resources and opportunities. The lack of affordable

housing options aggravates the problem, further limiting access for economically disadvantaged citizens.
The city’s reliance on motorized transportation has marginalised pedestrians and cyclists, making it challenging for them to navigate the urban landscape safely. Public transportation remains underdeveloped, adding to unequal access to employment opportunities, educational institutions, and healthcare facilities. This lack of inclusive urban mobility leads to disparities, disproportionately affecting those without personal vehicles or the means to access alternative modes of transportation. The vision of the makers of Chandigarh aimed at creating a universal, modernist haven, the city’s planning has disregarded local culture and heritage. There has been limited input form the residents towards making of the city. Civic engagement is a crucial aspect of nurturing equity in urban planning, as it allows diverse communities to shape the city’s development. While Sukhna lake thrives as a dynamic and inclusive public space, the open hand monument face challenges in effectively engaging the public due to its limited interactive
elements, and exclusive symbolism, which was poor design on Corbusier’s part as it did not align with the desired use of the space. To enhance the utilization of the Open Hand Monument, there could be reconsideration of the surrounding space, incorporation of interactive features, and efforts to make the symbolism more accessible and relatable to a broader audience. Creating a more inviting environment around the monument would contribute to its meaningful integration into daily life of the community. The lack of participatory decisionmaking processes has resulted in urban policies that may not adequately address the needs and aspirations of the entire population. Empowering citizens to actively participate in the planning and decision-making processes can contribute to more equitable outcomes. Chandigarh, despite its initial vision of creating an egalitarian utopia, grapples with significant challenges in providing equity to its citizens. Addressing these issues requires a revaluation of the city’s planning principles, with a focus on inclusivity, cultural sensitivity, and active community engagement. Efforts to bridge socioeconomic gaps, enhance mobility options, and celebrate the city’s cultural diversity are essential for transforming Chandigarh into a more equitable and inclusive urban space. Only through a holistic and people-centric approach can the city truly fulfil its promise of providing a better quality of life for all its residents.
A true good soul of Chandigarh has left for heaven today, leaving behind almost 50 stray dogs that he used to take care of. The city doesn’t provide them even with the basic living conditions, and now the people who did have gone...
Why do the citizens feel the pressure of traffic all of a sudden? Why is the proposal of metro being pushed so aggressively? Why now?
Monju stumbles on what appears to be a manhole, and the three might have just found the solutions to their problems.....

Monju has tripped on the authentic, original manhole cover. Being the old lady she is, she feels a sharp pain in her hip and accepts that she might have met the ultimate fate in every old person’s life, getting a hip fracture.

Modular and majesty are sitting on the footpath, with a laying Monju waiting for the ambulance.

Chandigarh, the city every architecture student studies, especially in India, for it is the rst symbol of modernism of the free country, that people know of. Though credit is not only given to Corbusier now but also his team of Pierre Jeanerette, Jane Drew and Maxwell Fry, still the basic question “did Indians design for this new India?” stands, and the question of equity about the designing opportunity for Indians is asked. Something most people don’t know is that the ‘star team’ was accompanied by 9 prominent Indians who made Chandigarh, along with many others who haven’t got the credit for their work. The contributions of P.L Verma and P.N. Thapar people know, who they don’t know is Er. Mahindra Raj Mehndiratta the Indian engineer because of which the sculptural buildings of the city stand. Ar. U.E. Choudhary worked closely with le Corb. and designed the extension of the high court along with designing multiple typologies of housing and schools all over the city. She has to be credited for designing colleges specially for women to get educated, and for her hostel designs which have been implemented all over Chandigarh. Ar. B.P. Mathur designing one of the best-known landmarks is not known. Ar. Jugal Kishore Chowdhury was responsible for making the Indian portion of the ‘partitioned’ Punjab Engineering College. Ar. Jeet Malhotra and Ar. Harbinder Singh Chopra designed one of the best medical institutes in north India under the guidance of Pierre Jeanneret. Ar. Aditya Prakash designed many of the cultural centres, that people of Chandigarh now experience.
Of Course credit has to be given to the star team, to the ‘star architect’ for designing a total of 5 buildings in Chandigarh while only being on site for two months per year. Pierre Jeanneret, the then acting chief architect of Chandigarh was a great teacher and had a poetic way of teaching. He constantly encouraged young Indian minds to make iconic designs. Jane drew, known to be one of the most sensitive architects in this scenario, understood the working of Indian household and the mindset, giving amazing designs for housing and schools. Maxwell fry designing the rst glass building in India, materialising the concept of modern architecture.
The ambulance is gliding through the empty roads, where the backs of houses face the roads.

Many architects and urban planners study the principled transportation system of Chandigarh which consists of the systematic network of roads, pathways and cycle tracks. This adequate transport system reduces the unnecessary tra c jams and allows free vehicular movement on the roads. Also, due to the inward sector planning, the V2s and V3s are less chaoic resulting in a systematic ow. That’s why when an emergency strikes, the pathways are clear for VVIP cars like the ambulance in this case.
The ambulance entering the hospital, going on the ramp of PGIMER emergency, dogs howling and crying in the background.
The medical facilities in Chandigarh have been designed keeping circulation and human centric design as the top priorities.

Overcrowding and waiting for the treatment, people sleeping on the floor, with chaddars and stuff, guy standing with a glucose bottle and patient sleeping on the bench, modular sitting uncomfortably.

The government hospitals show a true sense of an equitable and egalitarian society in Chandigarh. The problem of overcrowding is sure to be there as the medical facilities are catering not only to the city but to three whole states of Punjab, Haryana and Himachal Pradesh. But, even with this aw, the hospitals paint a beautiful scene of equity, how people come from all types of different communities and economic backgrounds to get treatment from the best doctors at minimum prices. Sure, we see some disparity here and there, that the patients who know the doctors, get their number to see the doctor first, but that problem arises from overcrowding. If there were the expected number
of patients, then the turnaround time would have been suffcient, and people might not have tried to jump the line. Ar. Jeet Malhotra was associated with Le Corbusier for a long time and got inspired by his book “The Three Human Establishments”. He then developed a concept of “Environmental Planning Unit” or EPUs for harmonious and balanced urban growth in India after independence. Malhotra understood that cities cannot exist in isolation from rural areas and healthy interactions with these areas are essential to the prosperity and stability of all living things.
Thus, the primary goal of EPUs was to attempt to provide a healthy environment through integrated and comprehensive planning for both urban and rural areas. This ideology can be thoroughly seen in the pgi campus and building’s designs of both Ar. Jeet Malhotra and Ar. H.S. Chopra. The buildings welcome everyone and encourages integration.
Discussion in the waiting area, majesty observing the scene silently The patients and their attendants are silently sitting/ sleeping in the waiting area, a mundane scene was set. There were continuous noises from afar of stray dogs barking, and cry and howling. Modular is uncomfortable and keep shifting in his seat. He moans out of frustration and mumbles his complaints of his back starting to ache. A patient with her eyes still closed asks them to think of how she has been sleeping on the oor in the cold month of January. Then, she draws a comparison of how at least she is indoor and how the stray animals don’t even have shelter or warm clothes to escape this harsh weather and asks God to protect them. The old man from the corner of the room starts talking of his youngster days as old men do. He talks how chandigarh tries to stay the same, at least the inner sectors do, but travel to and from chandigarh shows the real problems. The real hustle is to cut through the traffic.
The conversation fades in the background as Majesty’s mind starts it’s own line of questioning.
Later that night when the 3 roommates reach home, majesty goes to his room and starts writing Majesty starts researching on the ideologies with which Chandigarh was initially designed and questions if the city is delivering to it? He starts questioning of what Chandigarh meant to its citizens back when it was created and what Chandigarh means to its citizens now?

Books
1)Fynn, S. and Prakash, V. (2017). Chandigarh Revealed.
2)Hélène Bauchet-Cauquil, Françoise-Claire Prodhon, Seguin, P., Roy, M., Tittensor, J., Harrison, J., Corbusier, L. and Jeanneret, P. (2014). Le Corbusier, Pierre Jeanneret : Chandigarh, India, 1951-66. Paris: Galerie Patrick Seguin.
3)Sarbjit Bahga and Surinder Bahga (2000). Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret.
4)Sarin, M. (2019). Urban Planning in the Third World. Routledge.
5)Touchaleaume, E., Moreau, G. and Martial Vigo (2010). Le Corbusier, PierreJeanneret : Láventure
indienne = the Indian adventure : design, art, architecture. Paris: Gourcu Gradenigo
Websites
1)World Architecture Community. (n.d.). Jeet Malhotra Evolved A Concept Of ‘Environmental Planning Units’ For Balanced Growth In India. [online] Available at: https:// worldarchitecture.org/article-links/ehvcz/ jeet_malho
tra_evolved_a_concept_of_environmental_ planning_units_for_balanced_growth_in_ india.html [Accessed 23 Feb. 2024].
2)modernregionalism, A. (2016). Remembering Architect H. S. Chopra. [online] Modern Regionalism.
Available at: https://modernregionalism. wordpress.com/2016/10/01/remember ing-architect-h-s-chopra/.[Accessed 23 Jan. 2024].
3)Gupta, S. (2020). Chandigarh Master Plan 2031 | Key Features & Free Download. [online] Housing News. Available at: https:// housing.com/news/chandigarh-master-plan/ ?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIkNXO49uQhAMV 2zeDAx04uQyxEAAYAiAAEgI6gfD_BwE [Accessed 25 Feb. 2024].
4)Patel, A. (2022). What Le Corbusier got wrong (and right) in his design of Chandigarh. [online] Scroll.in.
Available at: https://scroll.in/ magazine/1019474/what-le-corbusiergot-wrong-and-right-in-his-design-ofchandigarh[Accessed 25 Feb. 2024].
5)The Indian Express. (2022). The Indians who contributed to the making of Chandigarh. [online] Available at:https:// indianexpress.com/article/cities/chandigarh/ making-of-chandigarh-indian-contributors-lecorbusier-7942200/ [Accessed 25 Feb. 2024].
6)Hindustan Times. (2016). MN Sharma, ‘Salman Khan from Sialkot’ who became
Chandigarh chief architect. [online] Available at:https://www.hindustantimes.com/chandigarh/ mn-sharma-the-salman-khan-from-sialkotwhobecame-chandigarh-s-chief-architect/storyZTOwrnq2VRVGvVVmD00MqJ.html
[Accessed 25 Feb. 2024].
7)Hindustan Times. (2017). An answer to a ordable housing conundrum in Chandigarh. [online] Available at: https://www.hindustantimes.com/chandigarh/ an-answer-to-affordable-housing-conundrum-inchandigarh/story-b6TToCYETy2bEUKjdr0LhN. html [Accessed 26 Feb. 2024].
8)She Builds Podcast. (n.d.). Episode 07: Jane Drew. [online] Available at: https://www.shebuildspod cast.com/episodes/janedrew[Accessed 26 Feb. 2024].
9)Jackson, I. (2014). Jane Drew (1911-1996). [online] Architectural Review. Available at: https://www. architectural-review.com/essays/reputations/janedrew-1911-1996[Accessed 26 Feb. 2024].
10)Woollams, J. (2021). The Croydonist explores the life of Croydon born architect Jane Drew. [online] Croydonist. Available at: https://www.croydonist. co.uk/jane-drew/[Accessed 28 Feb. 2024].
11)Architectuul. (n.d.). Jane Drew. [online] Available at: https://architectuul.com/architect/jane-drew [Accessed 28 Feb. 2024].
Illustrations
All illustrations by the author


By Suhaima Malani and Aahan Jain | Z223 | Special Mention 2
A mundane Monday morning.
Railway stations flooded with people impending to a city that lacks adequate infrastructure for them, highways packed with tin boxes waiting to meet the glasswalled skyscrapers, indwellers leaving their shanty shacks in search of a square meal, elites sipping tea on their swanky balconies overlooking gated gardens, streets getting dressed with an army of umbrellas by the hawkers, and an ongoing presentation in an architectural classroom.
Despite its mundaneness, this Monday is different. The presentation title that reads, “The Dubious Case of Dharavi” takes an interesting turn when the discussion from the architectural theory soon escalates to a real-world scenario and ignites a series of dialogues that often fail to reach the discussion table in most cases. The professor nudges the right nerves as they highlight the dichotomy of the infamous land of Dharavi and the city’s unpreparedness for mass rural migration and loopholes in urban planning. On one hand, it boasts of being the golden goose of the city’s economy whereas the leeward side reeks of labyrinthine insanitary squatters, abysmal living conditions, and human sufferings.
Furthermore, the professor drives the point home by throwing light on the redevelopment proposal of Dharavi opening the forum for further debate. Soon the rigid container of knowledge turns into a vibrant courtroom of conscience.
A decent stratum of the class advocates that the redevelopment of the 525-acre land encompassing
shacks, small-scale industries, and all the life in between would ensure modern infrastructure, improved living conditions, and access to crucial amenities such as healthcare & education. This would not only render a better image of the city but would also release some pressure on the city concerning its crippling housing crisis.
However, the other half of the class is triggered by the translucent approach of the proposal that sidelines the interests of the stakeholders in the process and might result in the displacement of the intricate web of businesses that keeps the community afloat and the spirit of the neighbours in the face of adversities. They attempt to back their proposition with past examples of gentrification that resulted in a double-faceted course of development where the shimmering towers reserved for the affluent often hide the stacks of matchboxes meant for the displaced communities. They continue the argument by stating that the vertical warehouses developed under the Slum Rehabilitation Act are built as a mere mandate with subpar services and attention to the basic human need of light & ventilation. Hence, if given a chance these breeding grounds of epidemics would not exist in the city’s skyline.
The professor enters the debate by adding that even if the community is involved in the process, the concerns of rehabilitation and displacement still loom large. While the need for development in Dharavi cannot be ignored, a nuanced design approach coupled with community involvement, critical thinking, and empathy could ensure a world where progress does not leave anyone behind.
The classroom is engulfed with fear, hope, and an evident doubt,
The professor, who dwells at the crossroads of theory and practice acknowledges their concerns.
They begin by explaining that the role of architecture extends beyond its physical realm of bricks, cement, and mortar. It acts as a strong catalyst that can transform societal challenges such as social inequalities, inadequate living conditions, cultural erosion, sterile urban landscape, etc. into opportunities to draft a society that is somewhere close to being called “equitable”.
Furthermore, they cite the example of Quinta Monroy, a social housing project conceived by Alejandro Aravena to settle around 100 families inhabiting the same site illegally for about three decades. The real challenge conquered by the architect was to build community housing on a limited budget on land that cost them about 3 times more than what social housing could afford. In such cases, the communities are displaced to the city’s fringes that are far away from the opportunities of employment, education, and healthcare. This results in an unjustified urban sprawl.
However, Aravena took the unconventional path.
He involved the families in the design process and came to the conclusion of developing ‘half of a good house’; i.e. using the granted budget to design spaces that are out of the reach of the marginalized families and leaving the development of the other half in the hands of the owners. This not only allows them to expand according to their individual needs but also renders a personalized character to each dwelling. The professor further clears the air about participatory design.
They explain that engaging the stakeholders in the ideation process does not necessarily mean expecting solutions from them. More importantly, it is necessary to delve into the complexity of the issue.
Moreover, they quote the master himself,
“There’s nothing worse than answering the wrong questions well.”
Silence enveloped the classroom, the gravity of the discussion settling in.
“Community-driven design sounds a little utopian, especially in a dense fabric like India”, prompts a student.
The professor reads the palpable concern of the class and continues, “With a population of over 141 crores and growing, achieving social equity and design justice is an uphill task in India. However, despair is not an option but an opportunity to harness creativity and push back the conventional horizons”.
They keep the discussion rolling by presenting the case of the Future Towers, a mass housing project by MVRDV in one of the fastest-growing cities of the country, Pune. The design of the residential complex sprung from extensive research conducted by the design studio to understand the context of Indian housing and the need to cater to various income groups in urban centres.
Driven by a “community-centric” and “contextsensitive” approach, MVRDV provided an alternative solution comprising a heterogeneous mix of dwelling units ranging from 45 square meters to 450 square meters. This assortment accommodates a diverse spectrum of population consisting of young, mobile professionals, elderly, and large and small families. Thus, the vertical village not only unifies the diversity in income brackets but also stitches a sense of bonhomie amongst the occupants by providing “scoops” of communal spaces in and around the towers.
Clearing their throat, the professor further adds, “The urban paradox is beautifully explained by Biju Kuriakose, a renowned architect practicing in India. He advocates that urban housing will always be strained by economic disparities. However, there is a silver lining for social architecture, like Central Park in New York City, a green haven accessible to citizens from all walks of life. Such public infrastructure underscores the vital role of architects, urban planners, and policymakers to strengthen the civic fabric and maintain the essence of ‘the city as a leveller’”.
A murmur rippled through the classroom. A student raised his hand, his voice filled with curiosity, “The previous examples are of built projects that aim at maintaining social justice among the communities, but is designing the only way of achieving equity?” The professor chuckles.
They narrate the tale of the formulation of the Development Plan 2034 for Mumbai, where the role of architects translated into advocacy and extended beyond the physical realm. Post its release, the 20-year Development Plan became a hot topic of discussion wherein a plethora of loopholes was identified by the architectural community, activists from various NGOs, and citizens of the city. The proposed draft replicated the same mistakes from the previous Development Plan. Several places of religious and heritage importance, gaothans, koliwadas, adivasi padas, and ecosensitive zones were either marked wrong or completely ignored from the draft.
These glaring cracks in the development plan if overlooked, could have grave repercussions in the future. The joint effort of architects and citizens to voice their problems leads to informed policy decisions for equitable development.
The classroom brimmed with a newfound zest. While the set of challenges seems daunting, the professor attempts to displace the conversation to brainstorm possible ways in which the architectural fraternity could change the discourse of development.
To ignite a spark the professor throws the example of the Toilet Manifesto by Mad(e) in Mumbai, a research-based architectural studio, to the class. The studio addresses the social stigma that comes as an uninvited “plus one” with public toilets, by taking a pool of parameters such as sanitation technology, affordability, maintenance, etc under scrutiny.
The studio presents an interesting set of ten design modules that would fit the varied contexts of cities and villages. These monotonous toilet boxes are mingled with different allied programs such as creche, study area, amphitheatre, community kitchen, etc that would function as vibrant social magnets.
“Kill two birds with one stone”, the professor adds.
They now turn towards the “future architects” for ideas and suggestions that could move the needle. A student points out the example of a US-based architectural firm, Ten to One, that has a pro bono model covering about 10% of their built projects. They take up community-driven initiatives such as constructing schools, libraries, community centres, etc as a part of their ethical body of work. The possibility of architectural firms doing a percentage of their projects pro bono or purely volunteered could help to harness the untapped potential of architecture and act as “starters” of social change.
“The unlearning that happens outside the classroom often outweighs the learning achieved within the classroom. This results in a bridge that divorces theory from practice, empathy from design, and equity from society. Even if 1 out of 100 design studios follow this approach, our cities could aim for a better future”, the professor states, dissecting the intimate layers of the student’s suggestion.
Another student chimes in, “Udaan Housing Project is a low-cost mass housing proposal in Karjat conceived by the award-winning architect, Sameep Padora.
The project is the offspring of an extensive background study conducted by the research wing of the architect’s design studio. It helped the architect reach the profound depths of the problem and present a refined solution. Thus, research is the protagonist of any design solution. Can there be a possibility of striking a symbiotic relationship between the design studios and the architecture institutions? The students can be assigned the research leg of the project and the architect can further bring it to fruition.”
“Interesting proposition. Since evidence-based research is time-consuming, the firms can benefit from sharing the workload and students can learn from working at the grassroots”, the professor answers.
Another student proposes that educational institutions should promote social impact assessment of their academic briefs to instil within the students a sense of exploring the broader consequences of their design decisions and discourage them from designing in isolation. In a real-world scenario, the role of the architect extends beyond the coordinates of their site to the surrounding realm.
The student further quotes the example of One Green Mile, an urban design project by StudioPOD, where the architect looked beyond the walls of the presented problem and stitched an interesting design solution that not only solved the traffic congestion of the region but also carved out better urban streetscape and spaces for the community.
“Good suggestion. This will not only help you to analyse the ripple effects of your designs but also narrow down to more informed design outcomes”, the professor replies.
“How can architectural institutions tailor socially responsible individuals”, asks a curious student.
“Perhaps, by conducting more “Mondays” like these!”, the professor adjourns the class.
(Bell rings).
1. NDTV.com. (n.d.). Dharavi Redevelopment Project Hires Global Team For Mumbai Slum Master Plan. [online] Available at: https://www.ndtv.com/ indianews/gautam-adani-dharavi-redevelopmentproject-hires-global-team-formumbai-slum-masterplan-4781755 [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].
2. sparcnirman.org. (n.d.). SSNS (SPARC Samudaya Nirman Sahayak). [online]
Available at: https://sparcnirman.org/actionresearch-REDHARAVI.html.
3. The Wire. (n.d.). Mumbai’s ‘Designed for Death’ Buildings Are Incubating TB. [online]
Available at: https://thewire.in/health/how-mumbaisdesigned-fordeath-buildings-are-manufacturing-tbhotspots.
4. ArchDaily. (2008). Quinta Monroy / ELEMENTAL. [online]
Available at: https://www.archdaily.com/10775/ quinta-monroyelemental?ad_medium=office_ landing&ad_name=article.
5. Dezeen. (2016). Architects ‘are never taught the right thing’, says Alejandro Aravena. [online]
Available at: https://www.dezeen.com/2016/01/13/alejandroaravena-interview-pritzkerprize-laureate-2016social-incremental-housing-chilean-architect/.
6. ArchDaily. (2018). Future Towers / MVRDV. [online]
Available at: https://www.archdaily.com/906774/ future-towers-mvrdv.
7. The Indian Express. (2016). Urban planners, activists note glaring errors in draft Mumbai DP. [online]
Available at: https://indianexpress.com/article/ cities/mumbai/urban-planners-activistsnoteglaring-errors-in-draft-mumbai-dp-2829692/ [Accessed 4 Feb. 2024].
8. DNA India. (n.d.). Citizens protest against ‘error-filled’ revised DP of city. [online]
Available at: https://www.dnaindia.com/mumbai/ report-citizensprotest-against-error-filled-reviseddp-of-city-2235901 [Accessed 4 Feb. 2024]
9. The Indian Express. (2016). Development plan 2034: BMC admits to errors in draft. [online]
Available at: https://indianexpress.com/article/ cities/mumbai/development-plan-2034-bmcadmits-to-errors-in-draft-2930506/ [Accessed 4 Feb. 2024].
10.Firstpost. (2018). Mumbai Development Plan 2034: Key takeaways from blueprint for city’s land use over next 16 years-Business News , Firstpost. [online]
Available at: https://www.firstpost.com/business/ mumbai-developmentplan-2034-key-takeawaysfrom-blueprint-for-citys-land-use-over-next-16years-4446315.html.
11.madeinmumbai2018. (n.d.). MANIFESTOS. [online]
Available at: https://www.madeinmumbai.net/ mad-e-manifestos [Accessed 4 Feb. 2024].
12.November 28 and 2023 (n.d.). Architect’s Role in Creating Equitable Communities. [online] www.aia.org.
Available at: https://www.aia.org/ resource-center/architects-role-in-creatingequitablecommunities [Accessed 5 Feb. 2024].
13.Anon, (2021). UDAAN, low cost mass housing project - Sameep Padora and Associates. [online]
Available at: https://sp-arc.net/udaan-lowcost-masshousing-project/.
14.ArchDaily. (2022). One Green Mile / MVRDV. [online]
Available at: https://www.archdaily. com/985166/one-green-mile-

By Sudhanshu Patra, Dilsheen Kaur Anand | Z241 | Special Mention 3
In a realm beyond our reality, where the boundaries of imagination know no bounds, there exists a city like no other – SymphoSphere. It is a city where architecture transcends the mere physicality of space, where inclusivity reigns supreme, and where visionary ideals are woven into the very fabric of existence. As the sun rises over the SymphoSphere, it reveals a place where social equity is not a distant dream but a harmonious reality. Join me on a journey through this visionary city, where the symphony of architecture, education, and advocacy creates a harmonious and inclusive utopia.
The ethereal city of SymphoSphere derived its name from the whispered melodies of dreams. “Sympho” represents the harmonious fusion of diverse elements, orchestrated with unity, while “Sphere” symbolizes the limitless utopian metropolis. Thus, the name encapsulates the boundless nature of the city, unconfined by physical limits but defined by the collective dreams and aspirations of its citizens.
In SymphoSphere, architects are not just builders of structures; they are choreographers of an architectural ballet. Every building, every street, and every public space is a masterpiece of design, not just in terms of aesthetics but in the way it synchronizes with the needs and desires of its inhabitants.
SymphoSphere’s skyline is an enthralling ballet of sustainability and creativity. Buildings reach for the heavens with graceful curves, their facades alive with gardens that cascade like waterfalls.
Wind turbines swirl in time with the air, while solar panels shimmer in the sunlight, harvesting energy from the endless sun. However, SymphoSphere is about inclusivity as much as environmentally viable design. Elevators and ramps are integrated into the city’s landscape, and each structure is a tribute to the belief that architecture can and should serve all people, regardless of their physical abilities.
In the enchanted world of SymphoSphere, educational institutions go beyond conventional thinking and become centers of tremendous empathy and responsibility. They recognize architecture as an art that shapes societies and nurtures the very essence of humanity. These universities are dedicated to developing architects who not only have excellent skills but also an intrinsic sense of duty and compassion for creating equitable communities.
The SymphoSphere Architectural Academy, located at the very heart of this educational journey, is a sanctuary where creativity and compassion intertwine. Here, students go on a journey to develop experiences rather than just mastering the fundamentals of building design. Engaging in community projects, they collaborate with residents, delving into the intricate tapestry of their needs and ambitions. Workshops become whimsical playgrounds where both children and adults unleash their inner architects, creating dreamscapes that mirror the kaleidoscope of their imaginations. The academy’s guiding principle is simple yet profound: “Design with Heart.”
SymphoSphere’s public schools follow a holistic paradigm of education. Students are encouraged to explore not only the numbers and formulae but also the infinite domains of emotions and empathy.Visionary programs such as InclusiEd extends beyond traditional classroom boundaries, ensuring every child not only receives quality education but also actively engages in experiential activities fostering sensitivity and inclusivity. In the extent of InclusiEd, graduates emerge not only academically proficient but as compassionate and socially responsible citizens, embodying the core values of SymphoSphere’s educational philosophy. It’s an education that gives rise to a new generation of architects—torchbearers who are aware of the importance of social equity in every stroke of their design.
In SymphoSphere, architects lead change through active advocacy. Advocacy here is not a passive endeavor; it’s a dynamic force for change. Architects, community leaders, and residents unite in a symphony of advocacy that echoes through the city’s streets. They understand that social equity is a tangible goal that requires continuous effort and vigilance. In this utopian universe, campaigning is a dynamic dance—a ballet of change staged by architects who foresee a city in which fairness and inclusivity are indisputable. Architects rally for affordable housing initiatives, ensuring that every resident, regardless of income, finds solace within SymphoSphere. Collaborating with advocacy groups, they shape policies that prioritize diversity. Inclusive design principles become an unwritten commitment, erasing barriers for people with disabilities.
In the mesmerizing chronicles of SymphoSphere, architects take on the dual roles of creators and advocates, leaving an indelible mark on the city’s ever-evolving saga.
In the serene landscape of SymphoSphere, urban spaces unfold like chapters in a lively fantasy, each demonstrating the enchanting power of inclusivity and harmonious design.
Here, the cityscape is a symphony of diversity and unity, designed by the creative minds of architects and dreamers alike. As one walks through the streets of SymphoSphere, they are greeted by a tableau of enchantment. Streets, wide and welcoming, wind gracefully amidst verdant trees and blooming flowers, inviting all who tread upon them to embrace the rhythmic pulse of life. Sidewalks stretch expansively, offering ample room for movement, ensuring that every soul, regardless of ability, can dance freely to the melody of the city. In SymphoSphere, public transportation is more than just functionality, it’s a lyrical celebration of access. Ramps and elevators, like enchanting gateways, ensure that every citizen, regardless of mobility, embarks on a journey where no one is left behind, and every soul finds its home.
Amidst this metropolitan tapestry sits the awe-inspiring “Unity Bridge,” an architectural masterpiece that surpasses its physical form to serve as a symbol of togetherness and connection. This bridge, which spans peaceful waterways, is more than just a channel; it is a magical spot where differences dissolve and hearts connect. The Unity Bridge, complete with lush gardens and comfortable lounging spaces, invites tired travelers to pause, linger, and rediscover the beauty of human connection.
Despite the magnificence of SymphoSphere’s urban design, it is the famous “Dreamer’s Plaza” that captures the imagination and stirs the soul, a lush paradise brimming with life and activity. This is not your typical park - it is a live, breathing entity that pulses with the beat of community life. The park’s layout is as fluid as the melodies that drift through its air, shifting gracefully to accommodate a myriad of activities—be it a lively concert under the stars, a bustling farmers’ market brimming with local delights or a calm retreat for contemplation. People from all walks of life come together forming relationships and weaving the fabric of a community united by a shared sense of belonging and friendship. The distinction between nature and community blurs here, creating a dreamscape where the ordinary transforms into the extraordinary.
In the mystical world of SymphoSphere, the journey towards health and happiness goes beyond the individual, crafting a mosaic of social well-being that unfurls like a dream. Green places blossom abundantly throughout the SymphoSphere, serving as vital retreats. Parks and gardens spread like lush carpets, enabling residents to join in the timeless rhythm of nature. Whether it’s a brisk morning jog, a leisurely picnic with loved ones, or a solitary communion with nature, these verdant havens offer solace to tired souls. In the embrace of lush greenery and fragrant blooms, physical vigor blends with mental peace, infusing the city’s essence.
The city’s thoroughfares shine with the warm glow of well-placed lamps, casting shadows of reassurance upon the cobblestones underneath. Security cameras stand sentinel, but it is not just the watchful eyes of technology that safeguard the city; it is the collective vigilance of residents that transforms streets into playgrounds, resulting in SymphoSphere echoing with the laughter of children, dancing freely. Community centers, with compassionate counselors and empathetic listeners, offer warmth to those grappling with inner storms. Art therapy and mindfulness classes serve as guiding stars towards inner peace and emotional balance.
Economic prosperity in the SymphoSphere is not a privilege; it’s a shared reality. Affordable housing, ensures that every resident, regardless of income, enjoys the sweet melody of a high-quality life. Here, the spirit of “inclusive entrepreneurship” dances gracefully, fostering the growth of small businesses and startups embraced by the supportive community. Entering SymphoSphere’s local markets is like immersing yourself in a world of economic fairness. Designated spaces for street vendors and artisans reflect the city’s commitment to ensure everyone has a platform to thrive. These markets become vibrant hubs where culture and community intertwine radiating through the city’s soul.
DiverseDwellings, an initiative in SymphoSphere, portrays neighborhoods that celebrate diversity. From cozy apartments to expansive family homes, the city actively promotes mixed-income communities. It provides affordable housing while also creating communities where people from all origins coexist peacefully, sharing stories and enriching each other’s lives. SafeHaven—a housing scheme that extends a comforting hug to the vulnerable. Focused on crafting safe and secure homes for those in need, including survivors of domestic violence and individuals experiencing homelessness, SafeHaven showcases the city’s generosity. Collaborating with NGOs, SymphoSphere also offers an array of support services, empowering those in need to reshape their lives.
In the vibrant tale of SymphoSphere, sustainability emerges as a key value representing Solar Symphony— the city’s commitment to renewable energy. Here, the melody of renewable energy and green technology gracefully dances through the city, nourishing the environment while simultaneously painting the cityscape with ecological brilliance. Rooftops adorned with solar panels, gracefully harness the sun rays while wind turbines, like elegant dancers, pirouettes in the gentle breeze. This is more than just a city’s commitment to sustainability; it is a lifestyle in which renewable energy has reduced SymphoSphere’s carbon footprint. The Solar Symphony contributes to the development of a green energy industry that provides jobs, transforming the city into a living witness to the synergy of ecology and economy.
SymphoSphere draws inspiration from realworld examples that stand as living proof of architects’ efforts to create equitable inclusive, and safe urban environments, providing tangible evidence that the dream of an inclusive society can become a reality.
The Sabarmati Riverfront project stands out as a symbol of transformation, as architects have rejuvenated the riverfront area while also creating a universally accessible public environment. The once-ordinary riverbank has now flourished with recreational areas, gardens, and promenades. This project goes beyond the mundane, rekindling the city’s connection with nature.
Lajpat Nagar Elevated Park, Delhi:
SymphoSphere’s architects draw inspiration from the innovative Lajpat Nagar Elevated Park. This ground-breaking project creatively repurposes an abandoned flyover to create a green oasis in the center of the city. Elevated parks like this are examples of architectural abilities. They provide safe and accessible spaces, inviting citizens to unwind and cultivate connections. SymphoSphere aspires to be these symbols, envisioning urban infrastructure as potential canvases for communal well-being.
Copenhagen, Denmark:
SymphoSphere looks to Copenhagen, captivated by its inclusive spirit. Consistently ranking among the world’s most inclusive cities, Copenhagen’s commitment to cycling infrastructure, extensive public transportation, and accessible public spaces sets an impressive model. Denmark’s commitment to equal opportunities contributes to shaping an inclusive society that welcomes everyone.
As the sun sets over SymphoSphere, it casts a golden glow over a city that exists beyond the realms of reality. It’s a place where architects are visionaries, educators are nurturers, advocates are changemakers, and urban design is a symphony of inclusivity. SymphoSphere is not just a city; it’s a dreamer’s utopia, where the boundaries of what is possible are pushed to the limits.
In SymphoSphere, we find inspiration to embrace inclusivity, sustainability, and social equity in our world. It reminds us that the pursuit of utopian ideals is not a folly but a creative and imaginative venture that can lead to a brighter future.
As we bid adieu to SymphoSphere, let’s carry its visionary spirit as a lantern guiding our endeavors. Let us embark on a mission to transform our world into a place where dreams aren’t just fanciful illusions but tangible realities. SymphoSphere, with itscommitment to universal accessibility, secure housing, inclusive societies, and sustainable practices, stands as a beacon of hope— inviting us to turn aspirations into actions and make our shared future one where inclusivity knows no bounds.
BIBILOGRAPHY
1. Choudhuri, P. (2009),’ Re-structuring the development along a non-perennial river’, Case: Sabarmati river, CEPT University, Master Thesis, Ahmedabad, accessed 01 October 2023.
2. Manvi Singh, ‘Nuggets from daily life turn muse and flyovers, the canvas!’, accessed 01 October 2023, https://www.hindustantimes.com/cities/delhinews/ nuggets-from-daily-life-turn-muse-and-flyovers-thecanvas101687594676896.html
3. United Nations, 2009, United Nations, accessed 01 October 2023
<https://www.un.org/esa/socdev/documents/ compilation-brochure.pdf>



























Written by Mrinmoy sengupta | Art by Debayan Panchadhyayee





Written by Mahek Jain | Graphics by Rasika R
Every architect or architecture student inevitably reaches a point where quitting seems like the only logical option. For me, that moment arrived during a trip to Antalya, Turkey. After a phone call with a friend about our grueling lectures, I found myself spiraling into thoughts of sleepless nights, relentless deadlines, and a nagging sense that I was losing myself in the profession.
Had I chosen the right path? Was all of this even worth it? The thought of quitting began to feel like an escape rather than a failure. Needing to clear my head, I stepped out and wandered aimlessly through the narrow streets of Antalya’s old city. The charm of the cobblestone paths and historic facades should have captivated me, but I remained lost in my own uncertainty. The question haunted me—was quitting the right decision?
Then, as if by fate, I stumbled upon a small juice stall tucked into a quiet corner. Stacks of vibrant oranges and strawberries adorned the stand, illuminated by a single hanging bulb. It wasn’t much, but somehow, that single light was enough to brighten the space. Behind the stall stood an elderly man, carefully slicing oranges with practiced ease. I approached and asked for a cup of orange juice. Perhaps he noticed the weariness in my expression because, with a warm smile, he said, “Let me make you something better—something different.” I nodded in quiet agreement and watched as he skillfully blended fresh pomegranate and green apple into a deep crimson drink. As he handed me the cup, he asked where I was from.
A casual conversation unfolded, and soon, he inquired about my studies. The moment he mentioned it, the weight of my thoughts returned, pressing heavily on my chest. “Architecture,” I murmured, taking a sip of the juice. He said nothing at first, simply continuing to slice his oranges. As I finished my drink and reached into my pocket to pay, he looked up, met my eyes, and said, “You will be a great architect.
And one day, I want you to come back here to show me all of your designs.”
I froze. Something about the certainty in his voice struck me deep. His words carried an unshakable
belief that I had lost in myself. In that moment, it felt as though all my doubts, all my fears, had been gently swept away. I smiled—truly smiled—for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Thank you,” I whispered, meaning it more than he could ever know. As I walked away, I glanced up at the sky, feeling lighter than I had in months. Architecture, like life, often pushes us to the brink, making us question everything. But sometimes, all we need is a small patch of reassurance—a simple yet powerful moment—to mend the cracks.
And for me that moment came from a kind old juice vendor in the heart of Antalya.


TO RETURN IS NOT TO START OVER—BUT TO BEGIN AGAIN, MORE KNOWINGLY. “
The Indian Arch team is honoured to present this edition, a reflection of collective effort, passion, and purpose. With deep gratitude, we acknowledge every individual and institution that made this publication possible.
We extend our heartfelt thanks to NASA India for continuing to be a vibrant platform for architectural discourse, student expression, and academic innovation. The support, freedom, and responsibility offered by this association are the foundation upon which Indian Arch is built.
This edition would not exist without the unwavering dedication of the design and editorial team, who poured their time, creativity, and critical thought into every page.
Alisha Ahmed
Bhagyashree Dongre
Maosami Tatiya
Nikitha Audrey D’Souza
Nischal M Ejardar
Pradyuman Nair
Pranesh R.U.
Pratha Sharma
Priy Ranjan Yadav
Simran Taj Hubballi
Sneha Ann Thomas
Ajay P R
Aarthi Reddy
Kysha
Mahek Jain
Nidhi Sanganal
Polas Shriya
Prasad Prabhu
Rachit Jain
Raghu Varma
Rasika Ramakrishnan
Suriyavarsha T
Debayan Panchadhyayee
Jayanth Kumar
Keerthi Reddy
Mahek Jain
Mrinmoy Sengupta
Naehal Sharma
Nidhi Sanganal
Prasad Prabhu
Rasika Ramakrishnan
Rishikaa Pedaprolu
Sahil Nitin Khirid
Shaik Ahmed Affan
Shashank M P
Suriyavarsha T
Swaraj Jadhav
TP Soundarya
We are deeply grateful to all members of the Executive, Zonal and Unit Councils for their leadership, coordination, and support throughout the year. Your trust and vision continue to empower student-led initiatives across the nation.
Special thanks to our interviewees, student authors, and content contributors who lent their voices to this edition. We extend particular gratitude to interviewees including:
Ar. Riken Yamamoto
Ar. Arzan Sam Wadia
Ar. Shashank Boopathi
We are equally thankful to the students and faculty from across the country who submitted essays, research, photo essays, sketches, and experiences that enriched this magazine.
We acknowledge the generous guidance of practicing architects, academic mentors, and professionals who offered insights, reviewed content, and ensured that our narratives were both credible and grounded. Your encouragement sharpened our vision and strengthened our editorial approach.
Finally, we thank you, our readers—the architecture students, educators, and practitioners across the country who bring this magazine to life with your curiosity, engagement, and enthusiasm. Your belief in the spirit of Indian Arch fuels every edition we create.
All content of this book is either NASA India’s intellectual property or is shared with the parties mentioned. We have made every effort to credit the authors and artists to the best of our knowledge and information. However, if there are any mistakes or omissions, please do not hesitate to bring them to our attention.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.
The DET (Designer and Editorial Team) of National Association of Students of Architecture does not take responsibility for accuracy, technical soundness or completeness of the content of these works and shall not be liable for any loss or damage that may be occasioned directly or indirectly through the use or reliance on the content of this publication. We would like to reiterate that the views and opinions expressed in the magazine are those of the individual participants and do not necessarily reflect the views of NASA India.
The contents of the publication are intended for general reference only and are not intended to replace the need for professional advice in a particular area.
Thank you for your continued support and readership,
DET (Designer and Editorial team), NASA India
