Frankly

  • Lal Dora

    Lal Dora  

    I’ve always been fascinated by cultural dichotomies and in my debut blogpost I’d like to shed some light on one such nuance I’ve perused since the beginning of my undergraduate studies in architecture leading up to my masters in Art, Design and the public domain at Harvard. I’ll take you through a brief history of what ‘Lal Dora encapsulates and what it inherently signifies in different cultural contexts culminating on how I conceived an art project around it. So, sit tight because this might be a lengthy one!

    Introduction 

    Lal’ meaning red and ‘Dora’ meaning thread was a phenomenon that came into being during the British regime in India. The premise of which used to be a red line drawn on the map of British controlled regions delineating the village population from the nearby agricultural land for revenue records. This land was meant to be used for non-agricultural purposes only as an extension to the village habitation1. The practise has an eery resemblance to the act of red-lining, (note the term red-lining and its similarity with lal dora) in certain neighbourhoods of North America in the 1930’s. However, that was more to do with racial injustice as opposed to taxation and revenue generation in this case. If you would like to read more about redlining you may check out this article by NPR. 

    The lal dora movement seemed to have originated in the year 1908 and after almost 50 years, 10 years after Indian independence in 1957 the Delhi municipal corporation issued a notification to the government which listed the lands under the LAL DORA classification, within and on the outskirts of Delhi. The MCD declared that no building By-laws needed to be followed in such areas and residents were free to construct without prior approvals. Other states followed suit which inevitably lead to haphazard informal settlements amidst major cities in the country. Today these villages are riddled with issues pertaining to sanitation, electricity, water shortage and neighbourhood safety to name a few. Some of these villages also have a rich history and within them are hidden some unique and mesmerising monuments, yet not many people know about them. 

    One of the major contributors to the demographic of these villages are migrants from various parts of the country in search of employment in the city. These villages prove to be ideal locations as they provide them an opportunity to live in the heart of the city but with relatively cheap rent owing to its inherent complexities. This influx of migrants changed the socio-cultural and socio-economic life of the village and bought about an interesting conglomeration of diverse ethnicities. Despite such radical changes in socio-cultural patterns the identity of these ‘urban villages’ are still in question. An informal settlement amidst strict formal entities, these villages were inevitably left-out and remained to be only a moment in the memory of the city. 

    Cultural symbolisms

    Now that you have a brief background let’s delve into some cultural symbolisms associated with red threads across many religious and ethnicities in the context of India. 

    A red thread is used in various religious rituals and acts as a powerful identifier of cultural meanings. Kalava (Fig5.1) also called mauli or charadu in Hindi is a sacred thread tied by a priest or an older family member2, typically grandparents or parents on the wrists of all the people attending the prayer ceremony. When used as part of a ceremony or puja, the kalava helps unite the congregation as one symbolic body during worship. A popular sacred belief is that the kalava protects the wearer from enemies and disease as well. Another common use of the thread is as a Sutli (Fig 5.2). A sutli is tied around a Pipal tree as a part of a Hindu ritual. The Pipal tree represents the tree of life owing to its longevity. The cotton thread represents the fragile nature of life, love, trust and faith. The belief underlying the ritual is that a single thread may be weak but when it is wound 108 times around the trunk it becomes strong and is no longer fragile and easy to break.

    In Islamic culture, a red thread is connoted as wish or Mannat (Fig 5.3) Irrespective of religious background individuals tie red threads around the Lattice screens of the Mosque or a Dargah. Each thread tied symbolises a wish and if granted, the person who tied it has to come back to untie it3. This tying and untying represents the gratitude and personal connection one makes with architecture.

    These intangible hidden meanings attached to this tangible simple thread opens up a host of possibilities for re-interpretation of the rather contrary universally observed concept of Red-lining conflict areas. 

    This dichotomy of the two systems presented an opportunity for me to reanalyse the connotations attached to red-lining and perhaps flip it over to a more inclusive rather than seclusive event. 

    The Project 

    Since the symbolic red thread is always wound around an object i.e the wrist, around a tree or lattice screens in mosques, the goal was to research an alternate typology. A way in which it has perhaps never been used before. So I gathered a few threads sourced from local shops and began some material explorations.

    Eventually the idea to stitch with the thread was settled upon. Since this particular thread has never been stitched with before it alluded to the narrative of developing a new use case for rewriting the concept of red-lining.

    The project was then divided into two segments, one as a curated stitch and the other crowd sourced. The curated stitch series was aimed at outlining and hypothesising what the original red-lining map would’ve been. I took various aerial images and painted them onto a 2’x2’ fabric canvas highlighting the haphazard nature of such developments in which all open areas were stitched using the thread. (See fig 5.4)

    The second segment of the project was aimed at being interactive. 3 panels, each measuring 6’x3’ were constructed ideally to be placed in open areas for residents and visitors alike to stitch through in any pattern as they desire. The only rule was that everyone gets the same amount of thread. Once they are done with their portion, the other person may choose to continue from where they left off or start a new stitch creating an almost cryptic pattern and in some cases query on what this may mean in the overall scheme of things. When the seemingly haphazard pattern is complete is when it is appropriated by projections of daily struggles of the village. With the thread being a direct representation of some of the plights residents face on a day to day basis. (refer to fig 5.5)

    The project however is far from complete, I envision this research to go on and eventually be a part of the daily life of an urban village. The ultimate goal would be to connect residents of the village with the city at large by re-creating the lal Dora but instead of it being a medium & measure for seclusion it becomes a means for opportunity & inclusion.

    I wish for the project to have a Human ritualistic scale as well as an opportunity to gain artisanal skill. Acting as a catalyst to explore a day in the life of the urban village by highlighting the daily struggles in hope for a conversation and dialogue among residents and citizens at large.

    I’d like to use the Lal Dora as a metaphor and medium of expression by re-analysing its potential and use its inherent connotations to flip the discourse around red-lining by exploring its alternative uses.

    1. “About Lal Dora – Know & Share.” About Lal Dora Know Share. Accessed December 04, 2016. http://laldora.com/

    2. Rajendran, Abhilash. “Why do we Hindus tie red thread – Mauli or Kalava – at the beginning of a Religious Ceremony?”, Hindu blog, 25th September 2015, URL: http://www.hindu-blog.com/2010/01/why-do-we-hindus-tie-red-thread-mauli.html Accessed 5th December 2016

    3. Selva J. Raj, “Miracle as Modern Conundrum in South Asian Religious Traditions” 23rd October, 2008, Page 201


    Written by Sahej Bhatia

  • Making Room for an Unexpected Year

    Making Room for an Unexpected Year

    Hello from day 100th (or so) of self-isolation!

    We moved into our new abode two weeks before quarantine and have been spending majority of our non-work hours moving, re-arranging and setting up. For someone who enjoys their home as much as we do, we created self-care spaces to support our new routines and with this little list, I hope you can too!

    While most of us are going through the same lockdown, our situations differ vastly; Some live in a house packed with people, while others alone in an apartment, some strive on external energies while others find it within themselves. However, re-thinking your surroundings and carving out a space for your new lifestyle is essential. This may be a corner to read, meditate, be creative or whatever may be on your mind.

    April 2020 – present
    1. Kitchen: While the lockdown lead us to preparing our own meals, somewhere in between the cooking we found it equal parts relaxing, exciting and eventful. We emptied out a shelf which now houses a speaker and phone dock so we can turn up the music, put away our phones and focus on how we are going to satisfy our tummies
    2. Guest Room: We are definitely not expecting any guests visiting us this season, if not this whole year. We pushed the diwan to one corner, freed up more space and added a large canvas rug. This empty space and its ever changing form- from that of a dance floor for my Zumba workouts to the expansive floor space for my 1000 piece puzzle, is all about energy and that really gets us going
    3. Living Room: I don’t need to leave tables empty for quarter plates or glasses- Spring was here and Bougainville grows all year long! All the bottles and glass jars have been put to good use and are filled with hues of greens, pinks and whites. My self-taught lessons on flower arrangements and experiments of ‘how to not-to-kill plants’ are held in this very space
    4. Study: After weeks of playing musical chairs, trying to spot the most comfortable dining chair to plonk myself on, I hit bullseye. The (not-so-beautiful) black ergonomic chairs are a clear winner and one was finally brought home from the studio except, as always, with a Studio Wood twist
    5. Corridors: Big on art and less on blank walls, that’s how I like my home to be. With all frame shops shut and the husband trying his hands on watercolours, it was time to DIY like we did back in school. Rolls of masking tape, [because it won’t chip the paint and is available at all chemists] sheets of art and ‘attempted-art’ were composed on the walls, giving the house some much needed colour.

    I am a firm believer that change is the only constant and this time it has entered our homes. The only thing we can hope for is to carry these habits into the future. It’s time to look inwards, focus on ourselves and balance if what we want is aligned with what we truly need, a house or a home.

    If you’re still struggling how to make your space alive again, call up your friendly neighbourhood designer (which is us) Remember, we’re all in this together, and we’re not going anywhere!


    Written by Navya Aggarwal, with edits from Vrinda Mathur

  • Well, frankly

    Well, frankly

    The idea of blogging has been on my mind for a while now and I’m glad this dream project is finally taking off. Albeit, its a bit daunting really, having built this up so much in my head, I didn’t realise writing for an audience would be so nerve racking. I am putting my point of view out there, but is the world ready for me? Yet what better time than now when our phones have become an extension of our limbs anyway. Our dinner tables, morning toilet routines, kitchen experiments, workout regimes are all guided by our devices, hence, more to stream, read, grasp.

    In this lockdown, I’ve been trying to engage myself with more cerebral content. I’ve finally given up on the Friends reruns and explored the Netflix lexicon which introduced me to ‘Abstract’. For those of you who are familiar with the show, good job! And for those who aren’t, please take some time out from the infinite scrolling and do yourselves a very creatively fuelling favour. 

    Every time I watched a new episode, I sat with my diary of notes and wrote about the designer’s journey, inspiration, highs, lows and quotes that stayed with me. Like when Olafur Eliasson talked of “design as a positive narrative and how it can change thinking into doing” or Neri Oxman spilling the magical formula of “knowing when to say why and in the same breath say why not?” I have used that line myself! pats back.

    Then there is Tinker Hatfield, known for the magic he created with Air Jordan’s for Nike. An architect by degree, a sportsman by passion and a shoe designer by pure chance. His three decade journey is inspiring in so many ways. 

    I also recommend watching the episodes with Cas Holmann, Paula Scher and Christoph Niemann.

    I am not big on podcasts but recently subscribed to Clever’on Spotify and heard about the prolific work of Ayse Birsel (pronounced eye-shay) Turkish born-American designer, Ayse studied Industrial Design in the United States and went on to becoming one of the most sought after creatives in the world today. With companies such as Knoll, Herman Miller, Toto, Nike, Tiffany & Co. and more in her portfolio, her design philosophy and pedagogies were very honest and relatable.

    Ayse: My first attempt at minimal portraits using the pen tool on Adobe Illustrator.

    She started her career in the 1980’s as a young-female-foriegner trying to convince multinational companies on why her designs and ideas will make a difference. She raised pertinent questions; For instance, “Why aren’t there enough female industrial designers when the majority of consumers are women” She also fought for democratisation of design with pure talent that was backed by gumption. The kind of enthusiasm that motivates young designers like myself.

    A perennial challenge I face as a woman entrepreneur in a field majorly governed by my male counterparts, is being subject to the fantastical argument that ‘men are better equipped at labour intensive fields than women’. Traditionally too, crafts such as carpentry or metal-smithing are practised by men whereas women are taught softer skills such as sewing and knitting in most parts of India.

    Maybe someday, our studio will stand as a testament to change and we’ll train and employ women carpenters to work shoulder to shoulder with our team of craftsmen. When in the true sense of the word, we will collaborate with craftspeople.


    Written by Vrinda Mathur
    with edits from Gunjeet Sra, Founder, Sbcltr Magazine