Karad Diaries-4

One thing that I shall always cherish about the schooldays in Karad was the exalted status they gave me as one of the brightest students, particularly in the subject of mathematics. We had a new teacher in the 10^th class, Mr. M. N. Joshi, who was one of the SSC Board toppers and he decided to test our acumen on the very first day of joining. That year the SSC Board had changed the pattern of the examination, where questions were not directly based on the text-book, and unless you had a certain problem solving ability it was difficult to even translate the question properly in the mathematical framework. Mr. Joshi used this paper to test us, and I scored the highest in the class, 41 out of 75.  As this was a question paper for the 11^th class while we were in 10^th, even this score was remarkable. I was famous for scoring 100 out of 100 in Mathematics my earlier school at Kolhapur, but in Karad I was a nobody till this incident.

I was already in the A Division meant for the brighter students, and this incident made me a contender for a place in the list of honours at state level, alongwith Dinesh Deshpande, Pradeep Kashalkar and later Chandrashekhar Sabnis, who joined us in 11^th standard. After some time Mr. M. N. Joshi left the school to found his own coaching classes and we were students of his first batch, classes for which were held in a makeshift place previously used as a gymnasium. Mathematics ruled the day here, and once, when I declared my inability to attend an extra class due to my prior commitment to a drawing class, everyone laughed and derided me for putting drawing before mathematics. I had to explain that I needed to clear the Intermediate Level in the State Drawing Examination as I intended to join architecture after my matriculation. Unlike the current aspirants to the course of architecture, I had absolutely no idea what architecture was all about, only that I needed to clear the Drawing Examination for eligibility of admission to the course.

None of us could, however, make it to the state level honours list, to the disappointment of all, though I managed to get 99 out of 100 in Higher Mathematics and 91 out 100 in Arithmetic. Dinesh Deshpande joined UDCT, Pradeep Kashalkar joined Arts in the hope of making it to IAS, but could not make it and had to contend with a good position in a Bank. Chandrashekhar Sabnis became a doctor, but later died young due to a tragic accident. I met Pradeep later when he was transferred to Aurangabad, but have no contact with Dinesh after school and have no idea of what happened to him.

But my closest friend at Karad was Shrikant Sane, who did not figure in all this competition. Shrikant used to stay near my place, and we would be together for almost all the time. Shrikant taught me swimming; he was an expert, and with him and other friends I used to roam around doing trekking & many other exploits together. Once we had a shot at sighting the ghosts on the riverbank where there was a cremation ground and were told that the ghosts generally loiter there on a no-moon night. We used to study in the night at Shrikant’s place and decided to check this out, but when we ventured out on the next no-moon night at about 11.00 pm, our courage failed us after reaching the bank of the river and we ran back reciting Ramaraksha all the way. Of course, the other exploits worked, like trekking in the mountains of Agashiva and Sadashiva. Agashiva was a difficult trek, crossing over a few ranges, but Sadashiva was easier and I remember running all the way down the mountain just for the heck of it. Those indeed were happy days.

Karad Diaries-3

The earthquake occurred in the early morning, waking all of us up instantly. We were all sleeping on the floor as usual, but earth under us moved to and fro as if we were all sleeping on a giant swing, and we could not understand what was happening at first. We were all frightened, Sanju suggested we recite Ramaraksha and we all started reciting it in earnest. This went on for what felt like eternity, but could not have been more than a few minutes. After the movement stopped and everything was quite still, we rushed out of the house and assembled in the front courtyard. All the members of the landlord’s family had already gathered here, who, like us, were in their night-dresses, and there, in the sight of other people, we recovered enough to talk animatedly about the experience.

As it turned out, this was not altogether a novel experience for some from the landlord’s family, who used to live at Koyananagar, where earthquakes had occurred previously, but of course, they were of a smaller magnitude. We later learnt the devastating effects of this quake, which had caused havoc in Koyananagar and surrounding area near the epicentre of the earthquake. Our school was converted into a makeshift hospital to cater to the large number of people who were caught in the collapsing buildings and suffered injuries. After this quake, there were many aftershocks, and I remember sleeping out on the street en masse, for fear that the house would collapse over our head and later we moved to Kolhapur for a few months as the school was closed and we were given temporary admission in Vidyapeeth High School near Ambabai Temple in Kolhapur.

Surprisingly, there was virtually no damage to the structure of the house we lived in, mainly because it was a single storied structure with brick walls and a lightweight roof of steel sheets. So after a few months, we came back and continued to live in the same house as if nothing was amiss. I continued with my studies, and it was about an year after that I tried to take my life for reasons I can not remember, nor justify in any way.

As I recollect, we had a few choice locations for study, which I had found out with my friends in the school. One was under the old bridge over Koyana, where there was a gap between the steel girders and top of the stone pier of the bridge. This was quite high up and tricky to reach from the road at top but not really scary as the pier was very wide and the height of girder was about 6’, giving a good headroom. The other location was inside the shikhar (roof) of a deserted temple on the bank of the river, which was slightly dark inside but gave enough light from the opening to enable us to read if we sat just near the opening. It was in this location I tried drinking Tic-20, an insecticide, but apart from its horrible taste it turned out to be quite harmless. I have forgotten where I procured the bottle or why I did it, but remember that I felt relieved after I found out it did not work.

Much later, in an IIA seminar on character building, we were discussing the fears and loss of self-confidence in the young who are unable to accept the reality about them; I disagreed with the speaker and said nobody can feel insecure about his physical features or appearance, which is genetically programmed, but later recalled this incident and felt there might be some truth in this after all, as I recall no other reason for me to be so unhappy as to try to take my own life at the time.

Karad Diaries-2

The day I ran away from home was the day of Ranga-panchami, a day in which people throw colours on everyone they come across. People all over India celebrate this on the second day of Holi, but in western Maharashtra it used to be done on the 5^th day after Holi.  Though hailed as a celebration of colours, it doesn’t stop at colours; people throw muddy water at each other, smear each others faces with grease paint and hit unsuspecting bystanders with balloons filled with water and sometimes even push visitors in water tanks and so on. All in all it is a rowdy celebration and I hated it immensely, but that was not the reason I ran away from home.

We were three brothers then, and Vijay being youngest, was the spoiled child of the house. I and Sanju (the second brother) resented this, sibling rivalry being what it is; there were always some or the other kind of petty quarrels. Vijay, of course, would colour every incidence and report to father earnestly, resulting in him scolding us which was something we took for granted. We even had a nickname for Vijay, an abbreviation of ‘a puppet of the ruling power’. All this was normal, but the day before Ranga-panchami a complaint by Vijay made my father so mad that he beat me mercilessly with his shoes, which was more than I could take and decided to run away from home.

So in the morning of Ranga-panchami, I just took my bicycle and rode away, but had no clue as to where I would be going. So instinctively I thought of Grandma who was at Kolhapur as she adored me and would be consoling me and may even scold father for beating me. The distance was about 70 kms., and I managed to reach there by evening. The only incident during all this journey that I remember is that the rear tyre of the bicycle got punctured and I had to seek help of a puncture repair shop on the roadside who knew next to nothing about bicycles, there being no bicycle riders on the highway, but managed the job sufficiently for me to carry on riding. I do not remember paying him, but I used to have no money at the time and it never struck me that I would need any. So much for the planning to leave home and start a new life.

As it turned out there was no new life for me, only a change of place for a few days. Of course, as I learnt later, there was a great deal of search operation at Karad, when everyone realised my absence and Sanju bore the brunt as he was sent to search for me and became an easy target for all the rowdy activity of the day. This is something I had not anticipated and felt sad when I learnt about it. As all search at Karad failed, my father made a phone call to my mother’s ancestral home in Kolhapur, one of the very few places that had a telephone connection those days, and someone came to inquire about me at Grandma’s place, where I had reached by then.

So a great rebellion turned out to be a tame affair, the only outcome that I can now record is that I proved that I could ride a bicycle all day and travel 70-75 kilometres when young. I have a bicycle now and ride it occasionally for minor errands, and the maximum distance I can manage these days is about 5 kilometres. But then I am 65 now so that is also worth celebrating.  

Karad Diaries-1

Of all the towns I have ever stayed in, Karad happens to have some very special memories for me. It was here that I experienced firsthand the tremors of an earthquake, ran away from home for the very first and only time in my life and tried to take my own life for reasons I do not remember now. It was also where I explored the surrounding area with my friends, bicycling and trekking in the mountains, swimming in the river and doing many more exploits of similar kind, usual for a teenager.

I was all of 11 years old when we moved to Karad, and was admitted in the 8^th standard at the Tilak High School, which was about a mile from home, a distance I used to walk merrily with friends everyday. The School building was quite old, in typical british pattern of stone walls and verandahs enclosing a large courtyard where we had our morning prayers led by the Principal, who looked like the First President of India, Dr. Rajendra Prasad, with his bushy white moustache, white dress and Gandhi cap.

We lived in a rented house, like most of the lower middle-class families at the time. The house had high compound wall with a central door leading to the front courtyard, and was divided in two parts, one for us and the other larger portion belonged to the landlord. The front courtyard had a large champak tree in the centre, and also had a common loo and a bathroom on one side. We had two rooms, the outer just enough to accommodate a folding bed, two chairs and a small cupboard. The inner room was slightly bigger and was used as kitchen, also had an open washing place, and a door leading into the rear common courtyard, which had a banana tree and scores of other plants all using the waste-water from kitchen. As I now realise, it was a model of a sustainable household, with almost no waste, and the only services we used were water supply from the city mains and electricity from the grid.

My father had purchased a big radio in Kolhapur, which was placed on top of the cupboard in the outer room, with its indoor antenna in the form of a wire-mesh about 4” wide and almost 10’ long spread all across the room at top. It was an extravagance on the part of my father, as its cost was more than double his monthly salary at the time, but my father did not bother about such things when it came to things he really fancied. I remember going to dramas with the entire household (we were 5) and the tickets were really way above what we could afford, as I realise now. He never spared expenses when it came to school-books, dresses and many such items, and I remember suggesting him once to buy second-hand books to save money, but he would have none of it.

We lived in an area called Dubal Galli in Shukrawar Peth, and here I faced a lot of bullies who would call me names, curse me for no reason and throw stones at me when I was not looking, and it was difficult to pass the road without something or the other happening almost every day to school. Once one of them caught hold of my schoolbag and ran away with it. I told my father about it and he ran after him, but couldn’t catch him. After this episode, I found out an alternate route to school and never had to face them again. The lane was actually famous for a very different reason, as it had a house belonging to the late Home Minister of India, Hon’ble Yashawantrao Chavan, and I remember once going to the place when he visited and joining the crowd of the visitors to have a look at him. He was a very simple person, who met and listened to all visitors earnestly before replying. I managed to get an autograph from him, and should have saved it for posterity, but can’t find it anywhere now.

Aurangabad-Early days 02

Jayanta used to live in a small two room apartment in the Rokadiya Hanuman Colony near Kranti Chowk with a few of his friends and I joined the gang. My interview for the post went well; there were no other contenders, but I distinctly remember the enormous office of the Vice-Chancellor of the University who took my interview, and bargained down my salary to Rs. 475.00 instead of the promised Rs. 500.00, but having no experience in such matters, I accepted the offer and joined the Office of the Deputy Architect to Government.

I was an odd man out in the office, as I was an employee of the Marathwada University, and supposed to work only on the University projects and reported directly to the head. But he was a busy person having a large number of Government projects, and had hardly any time to work on the University projects, with the result I was having virtually  no work, and was eagerly waiting for an opportunity to start my own practice with the UD-6 projects I had been promised. I did not have to wait for long. In the first week itself Jayanta told me that the Municipal Council at Sailu in Parbhani Dist. was interested in carrying out some of the UD-6 projects, and I set out for place which is a 3 hour journey by road from Aurangabad.

It was at Sailu that I met Advocate Kharkar, the President of the Municipal Council, who was later to act as my patron and set a direction to my practice. He had participated in the freedom struggle and was in politics for the ideologies he believed in, and was an intelligent and thoroughly honest man. Given the practical side of his profession I sometimes wonder how he could have had such a flourishing practice, and that too, in a small town like Sailu.

When I met him for the UD-6 projects, he already had his ideas about them and was very specific about the outcome. I prepared the entire set of project drawings in a week and when I went back to discuss them, Mr. Kharkar asked to give a presentation to the entire Council. My presentation was applauded by most of the members and I was told that my proposal was accepted without any change.

The only issue to be settled was the terms. I was too young (twenty-two and half years) and inexperienced in this matter, so was Mr. Kharkar who drafted my agreement with the Council, taking care to secure my interests as well as those of the Council. He asked me whether there were any norms and I gave him a copy of the IIA norms on which he based the agreement. (Norms prepared by the Indian Institute of Architects were the only ones available at the time. This was in the year 1977, the Council of Architecture norms came much later in 1989)

That started a professional relationship which lasted for almost fifteen years, and looking back, I think that it these projects which defined my architectural career. I had complete freedom in the design, the only things I was questioned about were the other technical issues like volumetric details, cost and execution. But this freedom also meant that I had to do a thorough research before making any proposal, browsing through a variety of norms, standards and so on. This process was to become a standard practice for me in my professional career, and paved the way for my teaching career eventually.

Aurangabad-Early Days-01

One of the first things I remember about Aurangabad is my unplanned stay at one of the cheaper hotels near the bus stand, which had beds like a dormitory and you had to keep your valuables for safekeeping with the hotel manager; there being no lockable cupboards. As I had no valuables to carry, that was not an issue; all that my luggage consisted was a small bag with bare minimum clothes. I do remember wondering all the night whether I had done the right thing in believing Jayanta, that this was the land of opportunity.

I went to Aurangabad by sheer chance. Jayant Pandit, my classmate from JJ was working in the department of Town Planning there. He had been to Solapur where I talked about opportunities for starting my own practice, and he had painted a rosy picture of how there were projects for taking in the whole of Marathwada region. Being in the Department of Town Planning, he had some valuable inside information.

At the time, the State Government used to finance the Municipal Councils under the UD-6 scheme for implementing the Development Plans, and huge sums of money were allocated for this purpose. However, as there were very few technical consultants available, leave alone the architects, most of the Municipal Councils in the Marathwada Region were unable to submit any proposals, and the funds were under-utilized, creating a problem of sorts for the Department of Town Planning, where Jayant worked. He saw an opportunity to start architectural practice here, but could not think of leaving the job to do it. So he thought of asking me to start the practice if I was willing to take the risk. He also found a temporary job for me in the Public Works Department (PWD).

Very few people are aware that there is a Department of Architecture attached to the PWD, but it is very much there, and it has regional offices, headed by an Architect (called the Deputy Architect to Government), who is in charge of providing architectural services for all PWD projects. The one in Aurangabad had recently taken up the task of providing architectural services to the Marathwada University projects, on the condition that the University would provide an assistant for doing all the drafting work, and it was this position that was advertised, and for which I had to give an interview.

I was told that the job was purely temporary and carried a salary of Rs. 500.00 per month - a good offer compared to my then salary at V. T. Kota & Associates of Rs. 425.00 per month. This was my first attempt at any formal interview for a job. I had got the earlier job at with Architect V. T. Kota, by just declaring that I have finished my course and was willing to work. This was OK as I had worked in vacations in his office earlier, and he knew me and my work. Facing an interview in an unknown city  was  totally different matter. But the prospect of independent practice was attractive and hence I decided to resign and caught the bus to Aurangabad.

However, Jayanta failed to materialise even after promising me to pick me up from the bus-stand, and I had no option but to seek a shelter somewhere for the night, convinced that Jayanta was kidding me about the whole affair, and that I must go back the next day. Next day, I remembered that I had a distant cousin settled at Aurangabad after her marriage, and I decided to pay a visit before going back. As luck would have it, after listening to my story, her husband helped me to find Jayanta's office, and I finally met him. If that had not happened, I would not have settled at Aurangabad at all.  

One Year at Nanded City

The starting point was rather uninspiring. We shifted to the Nanded City flat only as a stop-gap arrangement when Pranav, Amruta and Nishant came over from USA, and this flat was ready and in our possession. We were all too aware of it being in the wilderness, what with only a handful of people living in the large 700 acre Township under construction, and the distance from the main gate to the apartment building was a whooping 3 kms. There was no public transport within the Township area, and we had only one car - I had sold off my own car when Pranav went to US leaving his car behind.

Nanded City at the time had absolutely no facilities except for water & electricity, and you had to bring almost everything from outside. Fortunately, Pranav & Amruta, having lived in Jacksonville for the last six years, were used to a similar set-up. There was also the small convenience shopping lot near the apartment block with one grocery shop, one selling milk and milk-products, and the third one selling ice-cream and coffee. The fourth shop was taken up by a curtain-maker-indicating that the people had just started coming in because the first thing you need in a new flat-more than anything else-is curtains for privacy. And nowhere else this was more important than Nanded city where most of the flats were designed to have a good look at each other's bedrooms. Incidentally nobody in India knows that architects have anything to do with housing-no builder ever mentions the name of his architect in his advertisements -so it is not really surprising that people are not aware of mistakes made by the architects in design.

As a long-standing teacher in architecture, every year I have delivered a series of lectures on the aspects of privacy in design of housing, and have hoped to make an impact in the future design of housing through its implementation-but students seldom listen to your lectures anyway. Then again, the major advantage in architectural profession is that you never have to live or work in the buildings you design. For most of the buildings that you design, you only need to have a few photographs-mostly taken from outside-to impress your next set of clients-who are typically builders-and interested in the external visual image of the building to help sell it to gullible buyers-they would never even dream of living in them.

So a flat buyer has to fend for himself dealing with all the commissions & omissions of the architect-but while you can manage the interior spaces & most of your old furniture in your new flat, the curtains have to be tailor-made for the windows of the new apartment. Moreover the typical design of the flats in Nanded city-designed for good views of your neighbour's bedrooms, made provision of curtains almost mandatory.